Oh, Albuera! glorious field of grief![cc] [67]

As o'er thy plain the Pilgrim pricked his steed,

Who could foresee thee, in a space so brief,

A scene where mingling foes should boast and bleed![cd]

Peace to the perished! may the warrior's meed[ce]

And tears of triumph their reward prolong![cf]

Till others fall where other chieftains lead

Thy name shall circle round the gaping throng,

And shine in worthless lays, the theme of transient song.[cg] [68]