Not dead,--oh no,--she cannot die! Only a swoon, from loss of blood! Levite England passes her by, Help, Samaritan! None is nigh; Who shall stanch me this sanguine flood? ...
Wavered the foremost soldiers,--then fell back. Fallen was their leader, and loomed right before The sullen Prussian cannon, grim and black, With lighted matches waving. Now, once more,...