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114
elegiac ode.
E'en warriors shrank, dismay'd to view
Death wear his grimmest, ghastliest hue,
And half reluctant seem'd;
For fierce athwart the gloom of night,
The war-fires cast their lurid light!
Elate against the hurtling storm,
Vassall opposed his dauntless form,
And cheer'd his martial train:
"Come on, my Friends! yon bulwark's pride,
Shall fall before war's sweeping tide,
And strew the smoking plain."
On, on he rush'd! the crashing wall
Gave way and nodded to the fall!
Victory, thy flame inspir'd his breast,
Shed sparkles from his eyes, and flashed around his crest!

England! thy conquering banner flies,
Fann'd by the breath of hostile skies;
And to the quell'd Iberian's eyes