Soothd with the sound, the king grew vain, Fought all his battles oer again; And thrice he routed all his foes, And thrice he slew the slain. Dryden.Alexanders Feast, Verse 4.
The broken soldier, kindly bid to stay, Sat by his fire, and talkd the night away; Wept oer his wounds, or tales of sorrow done, Shoulderd his crutch, and showd how fields were won. Goldsmith.The Deserted Village, Line 155.