JAROSLAW.
21
To storm the hill, loud uttering
An all-terrific cry,
That hills and vales resound again
And echo fearfully.
Upon the walls the Christians stood,
God’s Mother courage gave,
And quick their pliant bows they draw,
And fierce their falchions wave;
The Tatars they must back retreat
Before defence so brave.
Then raged the Tatar nation wild,
In fury at defeat,
The angry Khan upon them frown’d ,
And scowl’d with vengeful heat.
Into three columns now itself
The heathen host divides,
And in three columns furiously
They storm the mountain’s sides.
The Christians fell’d a score of trees,
All twenty as they grew,
And roll’d them from the summit down
Their battlements unto.
And now the Tatars storm the hill,
Shouting with fearful din,
