And nearer fast and nearer Doth the red whirlwind come； And louder still and still more loud, From underneath¹ that rolling cloud, Is heard the trumpet's war-note proud, The trampling², and the hum. And plainly and more plainly Now through the gloom appears, Far to left and far to right, In broken gleams of dark-blue light, The long array of helmets bright, The long array of spears.