III. History can only take things in the gross; But could we know them in detail, perchance In balancing the profit and the loss, War's merit it by no means might enhance, To waste so much gold for a little dross, As hath been done, mere conquest to advance. The drying up a single tear has more Of honest fame, than shedding seas of gore. IV. And why?--because it brings self-approbation; Whereas the other, after all its glare, Shouts, bridges, arches, pensions from a nation, Which (it may be) has not much left to spare, A higher title, or a loftier station, Though they may make Corruption gape or stare, Yet, in the end, except in Freedom's battles, Are nothing but a child of Murder's rattles. V. And such they are--and such they will be found: Not so Leonidas and Washington, Whose every battle-field is holy ground, Which breathes of nations saved, not worlds undone. How sweetly on the ear such echoes sound! While the mere victor's may appal or stun The servile and the vain--such names will be A watchword till the Future shall be free. VI. The night was dark, and the thick mist allowed Nought to be seen save the artillery's flame, Which arched the horizon like a fiery cloud, And in the Danube's waters shone the same--[412] A mirrored Hell! the volleying roar, and loud Long booming of each peal on peal, o'ercame The ear far more than thunder; for Heaven's flashes Spare, or smite rarely--Man's make millions ashes! VII. The column ordered on the assault scarce passed Beyond the Russian batteries a few toises, When up the bristling Moslem rose at last, Answering the Christian thunders with like voices: Then one vast fire, air, earth, and stream embraced, Which rocked as 't were beneath the mighty noises; While the whole rampart blazed like Etna, when The restless Titan hiccups in his den;[413] VIII. And one enormous shout of "Allah!"[414] rose In the same moment, loud as even the roar Of War's most mortal engines, to their foes Hurling defiance: city, stream, and shore Resounded "Allah!" and the clouds which close With thickening canopy the conflict o'er, Vibrate to the Eternal name. Hark! through All sounds it pierceth--"Allah! Allah Hu!"[415] IX. The columns were in movement one and all, But of the portion which attacked by water, Thicker than leaves the lives began to fall,[416] Though led by Arseniew, that great son of slaughter, As brave as ever faced both bomb and ball. "Carnage" (so Wordsworth tells you) "is God's daughter:"[417] If _he_ speak truth, she is Christ's sister, and Just now behaved as in the Holy Land.