XCI.

Upon a taken bastion, where there lay

Thousands of slaughtered men, a yet warm group

Of murdered women, who had found their way

To this vain refuge, made the good heart droop

And shudder;—while, as beautiful as May,

A female child of ten years tried to stoop

And hide her little palpitating breast

Amidst the bodies lulled in bloody rest.[462]

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