Page:The Siege of Valencia.pdf/49

LXXXIV.

Oh! the dread mingling, in that awful hour,
Of all terrific sounds!—the savage tone
Of the wild horn, the cannon's peal, the shower
Of hissing darts, the crash of walls o'erthrown,
The deep dull tambour's beat!—man's voice alone
Is there unheard! Ye may not catch the cry
Of trampled thousands—prayer, and shriek, and moan,
All drown'd, as that fierce hurricane sweeps by,

But swell the unheeded sum earth pays for victory!

LXXXV.

War-clouds have wrapt the city!—thro' their dun
O'erloaded canopy, at times a blaze,
As of an angry storm-presaging sun,
From the Greek fire shoots up^19[1]; and lightning rays
Flash, from the shock of sabres, thro' the haze,
And glancing arrows cleave the dusky air!
—Aye! this is in the compass of our gaze,—
But fearful things, unknown, untold, are there,

Workings of Wrath and Death, and Anguish, and Despair!