XXX.

At Zabaldíca now with gathering ire The rival armies stand on fearful steeps, Where rocks on rocks are piled like bastions dire, And savage Solitude sublimely sleeps, And Cristovál’s and Lanz’s torrent leaps Adown the valley where Sauróren smiles. The pass to San Sebastian England keeps. There Morton brave and Nial lead their files; And hardy veterans climb those cloudy mountain piles.