Proud, like his king, to conquer and oppress,
In action rash, and haughty with success.

While thus deep slumber half the troop oppress'd,
And ev'n the waking found a pause of rest,
The joyful demon, with malignant look,
O'er all the host his sable mantle shook.
Instant before the slumbering soldier's eyes
Dreams of past joy and sweet illusions rise:
And he whose ardent spirit late engaged
In airy wars, and bloodless battles waged,
A mountain-chief in every vision slew,
And on the yielding rear still foremost flew,
Now, sudden, sees each fading phantom changed,
Feels every care and thought from war estranged,
Seeks the lost quiet of his native shore,
And mourns the lengthen'd toils, he gloried in before:
Burns with impetuous pleasure's feverish fire,
Or trembles in the tumult of desire.
The drowsy watch a sullen vigil keep,
And scarce oppose the invading hand of sleep.
Ev'n Eric, watchful still, and us'd to bear
His destined weight of military care,
Ev'n Eric feels his soul's wild tumult fled,
And bows to softer sleep his restless head.
Before him visionary glories roll,
And fancied victories dilate his soul.

Here, to complete his task, low-hovering stay'd
The fiend; while, mingling with the nightly shade,