Read "The Harlequin Opal, Volume 3" by Fergus Hume online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
They mount the ramparts, and they man the walls, Resolved to keep the climbing foe at bay, The hot-mouthed cannon hurl a thousand balls, A thousand swords flash forth to wound and slay. Down in the fosse the planted ladder falls, And smoke sulphurous spreads its veil of grey; Like incense from an altar up it rolls, To tell the war-god that a thousand souls Are to his honour sacrificed this day.
Oh, Mars! Oh, red Bellona! he or she, Though fallen your shrines, we bend yet 'neath your yoke; Born later than the Greeks, we seem to be Not much more civilised than were those folk, Instead of spears, and shields, and cutlery, Revolvers, rifles, guns, spit fire and smoke. For ye, blood-thirsty pair, we yet retain Our ancient love, and hence on battle plain With myriad victims we your names invoke.