From “Catiline,” Act V. Sc. 2.
SOUND all to arms! (A flourish of trumpets.)
Call in the captains,—(To an officer.)
I would speak with them!
(The officer goes.)Now, Hope! away,—and welcome gallant Death!
Welcome the clanging shield, the trumpet’s yell,—
Welcome the fever of the mounting blood,
That makes...
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It was the wild midnight,—
A storm was on the sky;
The lightning gave its light,
And the thunder echoed by.The torrent swept the glen,
The ocean lashed the shore;
Then rose the Spartan men,
To make their bed in gore!Swift from the deluge ground
Three hundred took the shield;
Then, silent, gathered...