And tall, and strong, and swift of foot were they, Beyond the dwarfing city's pale abortions, Because their thoughts had never been the prey Of care or gain: the green woods were their portions; No sinking spirits told them they grew grey, No fashion made them apes of her distortions; Simple they were, not savage--and their rifles, Though very true, were not yet used for trifles. LXVII. Motion was in their days, Rest in their slumbers, And Cheerfulness the handmaid of their toil; Nor yet too many nor too few their numbers; Corruption could not make their hearts her soil; The lust which stings, the splendour which encumbers, With the free foresters divide no spoil; Serene, not sullen, were the solitudes Of this unsighing people of the woods. LXVIII. So much for Nature:--by way of variety, Now back to thy great joys, Civilisation! And the sweet consequence of large society, War--pestilence--the despot's desolation, The kingly scourge, the lust of notoriety, The millions slain by soldiers for their ration, The scenes like Catherine's boudoir at threescore,[444] With Ismail's storm to soften it the more. LXIX. The town was entered: first one column made Its sanguinary way good--then another; The reeking bayonet and the flashing blade Clashed 'gainst the scimitar, and babe and mother With distant shrieks were heard Heaven to upbraid:-- Still closer sulphury clouds began to smother The breath of morn and man, where foot by foot The maddened Turks their city still dispute. LXX. Koutousow,[445] he who afterwards beat back (With some assistance from the frost and snow) Napoleon on his bold and bloody track, It happened was himself beat back just now: He was a jolly fellow, and could crack His jest alike in face of friend or foe, Though Life, and Death, and Victory were at stake;[446] But here it seemed his jokes had ceased to take: LXXI. For having thrown himself into a ditch, Followed in haste by various grenadiers, Whose blood the puddle greatly did enrich, He climbed to where the parapet appears; But there his project reached its utmost pitch ('Mongst other deaths the General Ribaupierre's Was much regretted), for the Moslem men Threw them all down into the ditch again.[447] LXXII.