"Fierce loves and faithless wars"--I am not sure If this be the right reading--'t is no matter; The fact's about the same, I am secure; I sing them both, and am about to batter A town which did a famous siege endure, And was beleaguered both by land and water By Souvaroff,[369] or Anglicè Suwarrow, Who loved blood as an alderman loves marrow. IX. The fortress is called Ismail, and is placed Upon the Danube's left branch and left bank,[370] With buildings in the Oriental taste, But still a fortress of the foremost rank, Or was at least, unless 't is since defaced, Which with your conquerors is a common prank: It stands some eighty versts from the high sea, And measures round of toises thousands three.[371] X. Within the extent of this fortification A borough is comprised along the height Upon the left, which from its loftier station Commands the city, and upon its site A Greek had raised around this elevation A quantity of palisades _upright_, So placed as to _impede_ the fire of those Who held the place, and to _assist_ the foe's.[372] XI. This circumstance may serve to give a notion Of the high talents of this new Vauban: But the town ditch below was deep as Ocean, The rampart higher than you'd wish to hang: But then there was a great want of precaution (Prithee, excuse this engineering slang), Nor work advanced, nor covered way was there,[373] To hint, at least, "Here is no thoroughfare." XII. But a stone bastion, with a narrow gorge, And walls as thick as most skulls born as yet; Two batteries, cap-à-pie, as our St. George, Casemated[374] one, and t' other "a barbette,"[375] Of Danube's bank took formidable charge; While two-and-twenty cannon duly set Rose over the town's right side, in bristling tier, Forty feet high, upon a cavalier.[376] XIII. But from the river the town's open quite, Because the Turks could never be persuaded A Russian vessel e'er would heave in sight;[377] And such their creed was till they were invaded, When it grew rather late to set things right: But as the Danube could not well be waded, They looked upon the Muscovite flotilla, And only shouted, "Allah!" and "Bis Millah!" XIV. The Russians now were ready to attack; But oh, ye goddesses of War and Glory! How shall I spell the name of each Cossacque Who were immortal, could one tell their story? Alas! what to their memory can lack? Achilles' self was not more grim and gory Than thousands of this new and polished nation, Whose names want nothing but--pronunciation. XV.