noon
Alas ! not for her , but the mourner whom she left ! In death even love is forgotten ; but in life there is no bitterness so utter as to feel everything is unchanged , except the One Being who was the soul of all -- to know the world is the same , but that its sunshine is departed . The noon was still and sultry . Along the narrow street of the small village of Lodar poured the wearied but yet unconquered band , which embodied in that district of Spain the last hope and energy of freedom . The countenances of the soldiers were haggard and dejected ; they displayed even less of the vanity than their accoutrements exhibited of the pomp and circumstances of war . Yet their garments were such as even the peasants had disdained : covered with blood and dust , and tattered into a thousand rags , they betokened nothing of chivalry but its endurance of hardship ; even the rent and sullied banners drooped sullenly along their staves , as if the winds themselves had become the minions of fortune , and disdained to swell the insignia of those whom she had deserted .