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 Down came the blow! but in the heath

The erring blade found bloodless sheath.

The struggling foe may now unelaspunclasp [sic]

The fainting Chief's relaxing grasp;

Unwounded from the dreadful close,

But breathless all, Fitz-James arose.Sir W. Scott.

Linden when the sun was low,

All bloodless lay the untrodden snow,

And dark as winter was the flow

Of Iser rolling rapidly;

But Linden saw another sight,

When the drum beat; at dead of night,

Commanding fires of death to light

The darkness of her scenery!

By torch and trumpet fast arrayed,

Each horseman drew his battle blade,

And furious every charger neighed,

To join the dreadful revelry:

Then shook the hills with thunder riven!

Then rushed the steed to battle driven!

And louder than the bolts of Heaven,

Far flashed the red artillery!

But redder yet the light shall glow,

On Linden's hills of stained snow;

And bloodier yet the torrent flow

Of Iser rolling rapidly!

'Tis morn — but scarce yon level sun

Can pierce the war-cloud rolling dun,

Where furious Frank and fiery Hun

Shout in their sulphurous canopy!