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ll. 267-280.

And oft the tear from his averted eye He dried; mindful of fertile fields laid waste, Dispeopled hamlets, the lorn widow's groan, And the pale orphan's feeble cry for bread. But when he told of those fierce sons of guilt That o'er this earth which God had fram'd so fair-- Spread desolation, and its wood-crown'd hills Make echo to the merciless war-dog's howl; And how himself from such foul savagery Had scarce escap'd with life, then his stretch'd arm Seem'd, as it wielded the resistless sword Of Vengeance: in his eager eye the soul Was eloquent; warm glow'd his manly cheek; And beat against his side the indignant heart.