Southward we turned.” He paused; then soon began

“Southward we turned.” He paused; then soon began, “But three days since, albeit it may be more, By chance we faced the foe, I slew a man;— Oh, start not, gentle maid,—’twill soon be o’er. He stood a sentry at the post which bore His trust. We took the army by surprise; ’Twas night, and few there were; perchance three-score Prisoners were made. Nay, hide not thus thine eyes; Remorse can rend a heart that Pity would despise.