7. 
For now the despot’s bloodhounds with their prey
Unarmed and unaware, were gorging deep 2390
Their gluttony of death; the loose array
Of horsemen o’er the wide fields murdering sweep,
And with loud laughter for their tyrant reap
A harvest sown with other hopes; the while,
Far overhead, ships from Propontis keep 2395
A killing rain of fire:—­when the waves smile
As sudden earthquakes light many a volcano-isle,

8. 
Thus sudden, unexpected feast was spread
For the carrion-fowls of Heaven.—­I saw the sight—­
I moved—­I lived—­as o’er the heaps of dead, 2400
Whose stony eyes glared in the morning light
I trod;—­to me there came no thought of flight,
But with loud cries of scorn, which whoso heard
That dreaded death, felt in his veins the might
Of virtuous shame return, the crowd I stirred, 2405
And desperation’s hope in many hearts recurred.

9. 
A band of brothers gathering round me, made,
Although unarmed, a steadfast front, and still
Retreating, with stern looks beneath the shade
Of gathered eyebrows, did the victors fill 2410
With doubt even in success; deliberate will
Inspired our growing troop; not overthrown
It gained the shelter of a grassy hill,
And ever still our comrades were hewn down,
And their defenceless limbs beneath our footsteps strown. 2415

10. 
Immovably we stood—­in joy I found,
Beside me then, firm as a giant pine
Among the mountain-vapours driven around,
The old man whom I loved—­his eyes divine
With a mild look of courage answered mine, 2420
And my young friend was near, and ardently
His hand grasped mine a moment—­now the line
Of war extended, to our rallying cry
As myriads flocked in love and brotherhood to die.

11. 
For ever while the sun was climbing Heaven 2425
The horseman hewed our unarmed myriads down
Safely, though when by thirst of carnage driven
Too near, those slaves were swiftly overthrown
By hundreds leaping on them:—­flesh and bone
Soon made our ghastly ramparts; then the shaft 2430
Of the artillery from the sea was thrown
More fast and fiery, and the conquerors laughed
In pride to hear the wind our screams of torment waft.

12. 
For on one side alone the hill gave shelter,
So vast that phalanx of unconquered men, 2435
And there the living in the blood did welter
Of the dead and dying, which in that green glen,
Like stifled torrents, made a plashy fen
Under the feet—­thus was the butchery waged
While the sun clomb Heaven’s eastern steep—­but when 2440
It ’gan to sink—­a fiercer combat raged,
For in more doubtful strife the armies were engaged.