Then, hapless Ghebers, then, alas,
What hope was left for you? for you,
Whose yet warm pile of sacrifice
Is smoking in their vengeful eyes;--
Whose swords how keen, how fierce they knew.
And burned with shame to find how few.
Crusht down by that vast multitude
Some found their graves where first they stood;
While some with hardier struggle died,
And still fought on by HAFED'S side,
Who fronting to the foe trod back
Towards the high towers his gory track;
And as a lion swept away
By sudden swell of JORDAN'S pride
From the wild covert where he lay,[265]
Long battles with the o'erwhelming tide,
So fought he back with fierce delay
And kept both foes and fate at bay.
But whither now? their track is lost,
Their prey escaped--guide, torches gone--
By torrent-beds and labyrinths crost,
The scattered crowd rush blindly on--
"Curse on those tardy lights that wind,"
They panting cry, "so far behind;
"Oh, for a bloodhound's precious scent,
"To track the way the Ghebers went!"
Vain wish--confusedly along
They rush more desperate as more wrong:
Till wildered by the far-off lights,
Yet glittering up those gloomy heights,
Their footing mazed and lost they miss,
And down the darkling precipice
Are dasht into the deep abyss;
Or midway hang impaled on rocks,
A banquet yet alive for flocks
Of ravening vultures,--while the dell
Re-echoes with each horrible yell.
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