Chiefs, wife, sword by side,。，Who have drunk of a strange draught.
Shake to hear his riven chains,。，
XVII。，Night was on them like the mould
。，God it is in heaven who weeps
。，Fair, by the flushed early morning embraced,
。，Attila, my Attila!
With the steel-hilt in the clutch,。，Then for plunder! then for brides
I。，Where the torches ran a flood,
Signal for the British onset。，Froze his members, bade him pause,
Earth the prey of Attila!。，Make the bed for Attila!
Brave as the bright Orient's.。，Hot against the city-wall.
Still the woman holds him fast。，And she pictorially attacked.
Cub-hunting troops were abroad, and a yelp。，
Huddled in the corner dark。，Ripened in the womb!
When the horsemen from his bow。，
Death, who dares deny her guilt!。，All their breath indrew.
XVI。，On the heights of Love walked radiant peers;
，Ghostly Night across the hive,。，Fell three-fingered on the bed.