XXV.

Dismayed and scattered fly the rival hosts, Full many a Gaul in Bidasoa drowned; But, ah, no respite San Sebastian boasts-- No truce proclaimed upon that fatal ground. Still havoc, plunder, stalk the streets around, Still bloodhounds bathe their sides in streaming gore! No angel-voice to plead for mercy found, No power to quell the fierce hyæna’s roar-- Even Hope doth seem to fly from that devoted shore!