But near and nearest to the wall

Of those who wish and work its fall,

With deeper skill in War's black art,

Than Othman's sons, and high of heart

As any Chief that ever stood

Triumphant in the fields of blood; 100

From post to post, and deed to deed,

Fast spurring on his reeking steed,

Where sallying ranks the trench assail,

And make the foremost Moslem quail;

Or where the battery, guarded well,

Remains as yet impregnable,

Alighting cheerly to inspire

The soldier slackening in his fire;

The first and freshest of the host

Which Stamboul's Sultan there can boast, 110

To guide the follower o'er the field,

To point the tube, the lance to wield,

Or whirl around the bickering blade;—

Was Alp, the Adrian renegade![343]