The city’s taken, but not rendered!—No!
There’s not a Muslim that hath yielded sword:
The blood may gush out, as the Danube’s flow
Rolls by the city wall; but deed nor word
Acknowledge aught of dread of Death or foe:
In vain the yell of victory is roared
By the advancing Muscovite—the groan
Of the last foe is echoed by his own.