Half living now They dragged their mangled bodies to the side, Whence flowed into the sea a crimson stream Of slaughter.

'Twas their pleasure yet to see The light they scorned; with haughty looks to scan The faces of their victors, and to feel The death approaching.

But the raft was now Piled up with dead; which, when the foemen saw, Wondering at such a chief and such a deed, They gave them burial.

Never through the world Of any brave achievement was the fame More widely blazed.

Yet meaner men, untaught By such examples, see not that the hand Which frees from slavery needs no valiant mind To guide the stroke.