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Till ample space was left to raise, Amid the trees, the watch-fire's blaze; And there, wrapt in their cloaks around, The soldiers scatter'd o'er the ground.

One was more crowded than the rest, And to that one was prest;— There sat the chief: kind greetings came At the first sound of name. "Am I not proud that this should be, Thy first field to be fought with me: Years since thy father's sword and mine Together dimm'd their maiden shine. We were sworn brothers; when he fell 'Twas mine to hear his last farewell: And how revenged I need not say, Though few were left to tell that day.—