Arms And The Man. - The Beleaguered Town.

Behind the town the sun sinks down     Gilding the vane upon the spire,     While many a wall reels to its fall     Beneath the fell artillery fire.     As sinks that sun mortar and gun     Like living things leap grim and hot,     And far and wide across the tide     Spray-furrows show the flying shot.     White smoke in clouds yon earthwork shrouds     Where, steeped in battle to the lips,     The French amain pour fiery rain     On town, and walls, and English ships.     That deadly sleet smites lines and fleet,     As closes in the Autumn night,     And Aboville from head to heel     Thrills with the battle's wild delight.     At every flash oak timbers crash -     A sudden glare yon frigate dyes!     Then flames up-gush, and roar, and rush,     From deck to where her pennon flies!     Those flames on high crimson the sky     And paint their signals overhead,     And every fold of smoke is rolled     And woven in Plutonian red.     All radiant now taffrail and prow,     And hull, and cordage, beams and spars,     Thus lit she sails on fiery gales     To purple seas where float the stars.     Ages ago just such a glow     Woke Agamemnon's house to joy,     Its red and gold to Argos told     The long-expected fate of Troy.     So, on these heights, that flame delights     The Allies thundering at the wall,     Forewrit they see the land set free     And Albion's short-lived Ilium fall!     Then as the Lilies turn to red     Dipped in the battles' wine     Another picture is outspread     Where still the figures shine -         The picture of a deadly fray         Worthy the pencil of Vernet!