A mingled murmur ran, some shout aloud,
The distant troops around their leader crowd;
RAPHAEL indignant, 'mongst the rest drew nigh,
And o'er the field threw an enquiring eye;
Far in the rear, unconscious he had been,
Till now too distant to survey the scene;
But as he look'd around with dumb surprize,
Confus'd, a distant spectre seem'd to rise,
IANTHE's form, in direful garbs array'd,
Appear'd on piles of kindling fagots laid —
Wildly he flew towards the horrid shade. —