The whistling arrow to his bowels flew, And the sharp steel his blood profusely drew; He drops the reins, he totters to the ground, And his life issued murm’ring through the wound. Pierced by the Foot, this Archer bit the plain; | 350 The Foot himself was by another slain; | And with inflamed revenge, the battle burns again. | Towers, Archers, Knights, meet on the crimson ground, And the field echoes to the martial sound. Their thoughts are heated, and their courage fired, 355 Thick they rush on with double zeal inspired; Generals and Foot, with different colour’d mien, | Confusedly warring in the camps are seen,— | Valour and fortune meet in one promiscuous scene. | Now these victorious, lord it o’er the field; 360 Now the foe rallies, the triumphant yield: Just as the tide of battle ebbs or flows. As when the conflict more tempestuous grows Between the winds, with strong and boisterous sweep They plough th’ Ionian or Atlantic deep! 365 By turns prevail the mutual blustering roar, And the big waves alternate lash the shore. But in the midst of all the battle raged The snowy Queen, with troops at once engaged; She fell’d an Archer as she sought the plain,— 370 As she retired an Elephant was slain: To right and left her fatal spears she sent, Burst through the ranks, and triumph’d as she went; Through arms and blood she seeks a glorious fate, Pierces the farthest lines, and nobly great 375 Leads on her army with a gallant show, Breaks the battalions, and cuts through the foe. At length the sable King his fears betray’d, And begg’d his military consort’s aid: With cheerful speed she flew to his relief, 380 And met in equal arms the female chief. Who first, great Queen, and who at last did bleed? How many Whites lay gasping on the mead? Half dead, and floating in a bloody tide, Foot, Knights, and Archer lie on every side. 385 Who can recount the slaughter of the day? How many leaders threw their lives away? The chequer’d plain is fill’d with dying box, Havoc ensues, and with tumultuous shocks The different colour’d ranks in blood engage, 390 And Foot and Horse promiscuously rage. With nobler courage and superior might The dreadful Amazons sustain the fight, Resolved alike to mix in glorious strife, Till to imperious fate they yield their life. 395 Meanwhile each Monarch, in a neighbouring cell, Confined the warriors that in battle fell, There watch’d the captives with a jealous eye, Lest, slipping out again, to arms they fly. But Thracian Mars, in stedfast friendship join’d 400 To Hermes, as near Phoebus he reclined, Observed each chance, how all their motions bend, Resolved if possible to serve his friend. He a Foot-soldier and a Knight purloin’d Out from the prison that the dead confined; 405 And slyly push’d ’em forward on the plain; |