Verse > William Wordsworth > Complete Poetical Works
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THE FRENCH AND THE SPANISH GUERILLAS

          HUNGER, and sultry heat, and nipping blast
          From bleak hill-top, and length of march by night
          Through heavy swamp, or over snow-clad height--
          These hardships ill-sustained, these dangers past,
          The roving Spanish Bands are reached at last,
          Charged, and dispersed like foam: but as a flight
          Of scattered quails by signs do reunite,
          So these,--and, heard of once again, are chased
          With combinations of long-practised art
          And newly-kindled hope; but they are fled--                 10
          Gone are they, viewless as the buried dead:
          Where now?--Their sword is at the Foeman's heart;
          And thus from year to year his walk they thwart,
          And hang like dreams around his guilty bed.
                                                              1810.


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