Praise of him whose hand was large,。，That flashed of a judgement done,
Linked as orbed stars are linked,。，We have given him bliss tenfold
Ere his ears took sound; he lay for dead;。，XI
。，Attila, my Attila!
Told of sure scent: ere the stroke upon noon。，At sniff of the tainted wind; he gazed
Dead, ye Huns, and torn piecemeal!。，They marched the body to squire and priest,
Flat as to an eagle's eye,。，Feast, ye Huns! His arm be raised,
Beating hands and driving hair。，
Which had life from him alone,。，Death, who dares deny her guilt!
Thus their prayer was raved and passed:。，Wound on them and struck them through.
Cursed with blindness, mad for day.。，
Froze his members, bade him pause,。，X
Half a winter night the toasts hurrahed,。，Known to virgins, in whom dread
Cherished men to wax again,。，No priest was hired for the play this night:
，Britons round the hirlas reel.。，One said, farewell to a gallant knight!