III.

And on the foremost crest our men have now Full many a rock’s Aiantine volume rolled; Prepared to hurl them from the mountain-brow, Their powerful hands this rude artillery hold, Should thirst of vengeance make the assailants hold. But men who Death had braved in every form Of War’s destruction known to them of old, Before this unfamiliar mountain-storm Have quailed, and our’s the height all strewn with corses warm.