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Up the hill, and to its wood-crown'd summit,
So in gather'd ranks the warriors crowded.
At the foot—a very wedge of courage,
Right and left, protected by their bucklers,
On their shoulders, lo! they bear their lances.
Rear behind the van, and third next second,
And the arrows from the hills are raining.
Now the darksome night the earth hath mantled,
Mantled earth—and heavy clouds the heavens;
And on christians and on tatars closes
Eyes that burn with passion and with fury;
Walls and trenches all around the mountain,
Raise and sink the christians hi the darkness.
But the morning in the orient wakens,
Wakes the forces peopling all the mountain;
Fearful is the crowd around the mountain,
Numerous more than eye can see—so distant!
Christian chiefs above the rest are towering
O'er the heights, up to the Khan's pavillion!
So the masses for the fray are portion'd.
All to the appointed stations rushing;
