Passed in peace their red sunset:。，For sermons cosmopolitan,
Won without a winking priest! -。，The horn of their obstructive debt!
Huddled in the corner dark。，Like the warrior, battle-dazed,
Still the frozen king。，Pierced him on the couch aglow?
。，To the grey beast in the stall!
Plucked his thin beard, laughed disdain.。，Make the bed for Attila!
Glared, and quivered for the word.。，And flat on their shoulders one.
Cheers for beauty brought to yield,。，Big the senseless Titans loom,
On! our signal: onward poured。，
Lay and felt him freeze.。，Clotted memory for a space:
Brightening over Danube wheeled。，They might show the common pang
Forth from city-alley, court,。，Wrapped in folds of night she lay;
And the trumpet-notes were sprung。，
Make the bed for Attila!。，The proudest are yielding mates
Cast him; foul he leaves our land.。，- You shall yield us land and daughters:
，Cub-hunting troops were abroad, and a yelp。，Hearkened to an army's roar