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Constance De Castile

A Poem, in Ten Cantos. By William Sotheby

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XXVI.

“Like cataracts from the mountain brow
“Clash the couch'd lances in their rest,
“Squadron on squadron, breast on breast.

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“Who breaks the shield, the sword, the bow?
“Whose voice pours thunder on the gale?
“Whose war-hoofs, red with slaughter, crush the foe?
“Like Death, with terror crown'd, dark tow'rs the sable mail.