Cuộc hành hương của chàng hiệp sĩ Childe Harolds - Khúc thứ ba (25) Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage - Canto III (25)

Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage - Canto III (25)

And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed,
The mustering squadron, and the clattering car,
Went pouring forward with impetuous speed,
And swiftly forming in the ranks of war;
And the deep thunder peal on peal afar;
And near, the beat of the alarming drum
Roused up the soldier ere the morning star;
While throng’d the citizens with terror dumb,
Or whispering, with white lips -- `the foe! they come! they come!’