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Upon his coursers swift of foot, this king,
Surrounded by the Argyraspides,
Passed, as in summer, through the flying clouds,
Passes the lightning-flash—without a sound
Think on Sennacherib, who at the head
Of a great host came from Assyria;
Nine hundred thousand troops, so fierce and proud
Their breath the very clouds would have impelled;
Unclean magicians; fear-inspiring centaurs;
Arabians, clashing their resounding cymbals;
Oxen, and leopards broken to the bit;
War-chariots bristling with sharp brazen scythes;
High-mettled steeds, suckled by tigresses;
Six hundred elephants, those moving forts,
Which, 'mid the legions treading pond'rously,
On their huge backs bore undulating towers.
On every side was nought save buffaloes
And camels, zebras, mammoths, behemoths,
Prodigious monsters of a world extinct;
A roaring mass, through which flew to and fro
The golden chariots' steel-toothèd wheels,
At night the camp was like a fiery plain;
And when that countless multitude awoke,
The fisher, launching his frail barque of reeds,
Thought that he heard old Ocean roar afar.
About the haughty monarch everything
Was all a-glitter. Swiftly flew his mares
And trampled 'neath their feet the springing grass;
He passed, rearing aloft his brow be-crowned
Above his chariot drawn by elephants;
And in his wake banners and oriflammes,
Like golden comets with their fiery tails.
But Heaven had compassion on a score
Of trembling peoples; on that meteor,
With all its gleaming train, God did but breathe,