No record tells of lance opposed to lance, Horse charging horse ’mid these retired do-mains ; Nor that their turf drank purple from the veins, Of heroes fall’n, or struggling to advance, Till doubtful combat issued in a trance Of victory, that struck through heart and reins, Even to the inmost seat of mortal pains, And lightened o’er the pallid countenance. Yet, to the loyal and the brave, who lie In the blank earth, neglected and forlorn, The passing Winds memorial tribute pay ; The Torrents chaunt their praise, inspiring scorn Of power usurp’d,—gvith proclamation high, And glad acknowledgment of lawful sway.