Convention is the dwarfish demon styled[51]

That foiled the knights in Marialva's dome:

Of brains (if brains they had) he them beguiled,

And turned a nation's shallow joy to gloom.

Here Folly dashed to earth the victor's plume,

And Policy regained what arms had lost:

For chiefs like ours in vain may laurels bloom!

Woe to the conquering, not the conquered host,

Since baffled Triumph droops on Lusitania's coast.