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24 “Nor of its fields a blade of grass, “Save what grows on a ridge of wall, “Where stood the hearth-stone of the hall; “And many a time ye there might pass, “Nor dream that e’er that fortress was: “I saw its turrets in a blaze, “Their crackling battlements all cleft, “And the hot lead pour down like rain “From off the scorch’d and blackening roof, “Whose thickness was not vengeance-proof. “They little thought that day of pain, “When lanch’d, as on the lightning’s flash, “They bade me to destruction dash, “That one day I should come again, “With twice five thousand horse, to thank “The Count for his uncourteous ride. “They play’d me then a bitter prank, “When, with the wild horse for my guide, “They bound me to his foaming flank: “At length I play’d them one as frank— “For time at last sets all things even— “And if we do but watch the hour, “There never yet was human power “Which could evade, if unforgiven,