He came. — Why should I lengthen out my tale?
Our nation's force, oppos'd to the  army,
Was kindling torches to obscure the sun.
Again we saw them hover on the hill:
Again we saw — like famine-bringing locusts,
Their hosts descend, and spread upon the plain.
No parly, as at first, they would allow:
Their batt'ring-rams the messengers they us'd;
— Arrows and catapults, their  words.
A dreadful day our troops sustain'd the siege,
And fill'd the breaches with their slaughter'd foes.
At length, a billet on a javelin's point
The ramparts pass'd, denouncing rape and sackage,
If stubbornly our citizens delay'd
To own ZORADOR conqueror and king.
The threat effected all the  had hop'd,
And  grey Monarch was abandon'd
By those whose rights he'd guarded with his blood,
— By those his smiles had cherish'd, and his honours grac'd.