XXXIII.

But now the greater Rhune must too be won, And Colborne’s corps and Longa’s force the hill. Through wooded gorge, up craggy slopes they run, Then breathless pause--again with lusty will Burst fresh and sparkling like a mountain rill. And many and fleet the skirmishers of France, With fusillade severe but conquering still, They backward drive along the broad expanse, And Nial’s gleaming sword was ever in advance.