13. 
Within a cave upon the hill were found
A bundle of rude pikes, the instrument
Of those who war but on their native ground 2445
For natural rights:  a shout of joyance sent
Even from our hearts the wide air pierced and rent,
As those few arms the bravest and the best
Seized, and each sixth, thus armed, did now present
A line which covered and sustained the rest, 2450
A confident phalanx, which the foes on every side invest.

14. 
That onset turned the foes to flight almost;
But soon they saw their present strength, and knew
That coming night would to our resolute host
Bring victory; so dismounting, close they drew 2455
Their glittering files, and then the combat grew
Unequal but most horrible;—­and ever
Our myriads, whom the swift bolt overthrew,
Or the red sword, failed like a mountain river
Which rushes forth in foam to sink in sands for ever. 2460

15. 
Sorrow and shame, to see with their own kind
Our human brethren mix, like beasts of blood,
To mutual ruin armed by one behind
Who sits and scoffs!—­That friend so mild and good,
Who like its shadow near my youth had stood, 2465
Was stabbed!—­my old preserver’s hoary hair
With the flesh clinging to its roots, was strewed
Under my feet!—­I lost all sense or care,
And like the rest I grew desperate and unaware.

16. 
The battle became ghastlier—­in the midst 2470
I paused, and saw, how ugly and how fell
O Hate! thou art, even when thy life thou shedd’st
For love.  The ground in many a little dell
Was broken, up and down whose steeps befell
Alternate victory and defeat, and there 2475
The combatants with rage most horrible
Strove, and their eyes started with cracking stare,
And impotent their tongues they lolled into the air,

17. 
Flaccid and foamy, like a mad dog’s hanging;
Want, and Moon-madness, and the pest’s swift Bane 2480
When its shafts smite—­while yet its bow is twanging—­
Have each their mark and sign—­some ghastly stain;
And this was thine, O War! of hate and pain
Thou loathed slave!  I saw all shapes of death
And ministered to many, o’er the plain 2485
While carnage in the sunbeam’s warmth did seethe,
Till twilight o’er the east wove her serenest wreath.

18. 
The few who yet survived, resolute and firm
Around me fought.  At the decline of day
Winding above the mountain’s snowy term 2490
New banners shone; they quivered in the ray
Of the sun’s unseen orb—­ere night the array
Of fresh troops hemmed us in—­of those brave bands
I soon survived alone—­and now I lay
Vanquished and faint, the grasp of bloody hands 2495
I felt, and saw on high the glare of falling brands,