As if some watchful foe, with bold insult
  Hung lowering o’er their camp.  The high resolve,
  That flies on wings, through all the encircling line,
  Each motion steers, and animates the whole. 
  So by the sun’s attractive power controlled,
  The planets in their spheres roll round his orb,
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  On all he shines, and rules the great machine. 
     Ere yet the morn dispels the fleeting mists,
  The signal given by the loud trumpet’s voice,
  Now high in air the imperial standard waves,
  Emblazoned rich with gold, and glittering gems;
  And like a sheet of fire, through the dun gloom
  Streaming meteorous.  The soldiers’ shouts,
  And all the brazen instuments of war,
  With mutual clamor, and united din,
  Fill the large concave.  While from camp to camp,
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  They catch the varied sounds, floating in air,
  Round all the wide circumference, tigers fell
  Shrink at the noise; deep in his gloomy den
  The lion starts, and morsels yet unchewed
  Drop from his trembling jaws.  Now all at once
  Onward they march embattled, to the sound
  Of martial harmony; fifes, cornets, drums,
  That rouse the sleepy soul to arms, and bold
  Heroic deeds.  In parties here and there
  Detached o’er hill and dale, the hunters range
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  Inquisitive; strong dogs that match in fight
  The boldest brute, around their masters wait,
  A faithful guard.  No haunt unsearched, they drive
  From every covert, and from every den,
  The lurking savages.  Incessant shouts
  Re-echo through the woods, and kindling fires
  Gleam from the mountain tops; the forest seems
  One mingling blaze:  like flocks of sheep they fly
  Before the flaming brand:  fierce lions, pards,
  Boars, tigers, bears, and wolves; a dreadful crew
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  Of grim blood-thirsty foes:  growling along,
  They stalk indignant; but fierce vengeance still
  Hangs pealing on their rear, and pointed spears
  Present immediate death.  Soon as the night
  Wrapt in her sable veil forbids the chase,
  They pitch their tents, in even ranks around
  The circling camp.  The guards are placed, and fires
  At proper distances ascending rise,
  And paint the horizon with their ruddy light. 
  So round some island’s shore of large extent,
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  Amid the gloomy horrors of the night,
  The billows breaking on the pointed rocks,
  Seem all one flame, and the bright circuit wide
  Appears a bulwark of surrounding fire. 
  What dreadful bowlings, and what hideous roar,
  Disturb those peaceful shades where erst the bird
  That glads the night, had cheered the listening groves
  With sweet complainings!  Through the silent gloom
  Oft they the guards assail; as oft repelled
  They fly reluctant, with hot-boiling rage
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  Stung to the quick, and mad with wild