THE LADDER OF SAINT AUGUSTINE But they, while their companions slept, Were toiling upward in the night. 40 SAINT AUGUSTINE! well hast thou Standing on what too long we bore With shoulders bent and downcast said, And the masts, with all their rig- And down the coast, all taking up the A MIST was driving down the British For in the night, unseen, a single war Channel, rior, In sombre harness mailed, Dreaded of man, and surnamed the Destroyer, The rampart wall had scaled. He passed into the chamber of the sleeper The dark and silent room, And, from the frowning rampart, the| And as he entered, darker grew and black cannon |