On dun Cithæron's ridge appears

The gleam of twice ten thousand spears;

And downward to the Isthmian plain,

From shore to shore of either main,[of]

The tent is pitched, the Crescent shines

Along the Moslem's leaguering lines;

And the dusk Spahi's bands[340] advance

Beneath each bearded Pacha's glance;

And far and wide as eye can reach[og]

The turbaned cohorts throng the beach; 80

And there the Arab's camel kneels,

And there his steed the Tartar wheels;

The Turcoman hath left his herd,[341]

The sabre round his loins to gird;

And there the volleying thunders pour,

Till waves grow smoother to the roar.

The trench is dug, the cannon's breath

Wings the far hissing globe of death;[342]

Fast whirl the fragments from the wall,

Which crumbles with the ponderous ball; 90

And from that wall the foe replies,

O'er dusty plain and smoky skies,

With fares that answer fast and well

The summons of the Infidel.