Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 2.djvu/182

148 8.

Remember the moment when Previsa fell, N32

The shrieks of the conquered, the conquerors' yell;

The roofs that we fired, and the plunder we shared,

The wealthy we slaughtered, the lovely we spared.

9.

I talk not of mercy, I talk not of fear;

He neither must know who would serve the Vizier:

Since the days of our Prophet the Crescent ne'er saw

A chief ever glorious like Ali Pashaw.

10.

Dark Muchtar his son to the Danube is sped,

Let the yellow-haired Giaours view his horse-tail with dread;