。，As a night-flag round the mast.
This clatterjaw his foot could set。，
Her he eyed: his judgement was one word,。，The lady whom we revere
How she walked, how withered white,。，Which had life from him alone,
Then for plunder! then for brides。，Bronze in joy, like skies that scorch.
。，Joining to the fight amain.
Horror, with the snaky locks,。，Was she childish? was she sly?
Attila, my Attila!。，In his spear-heads lies the foe.
。，So hard it seems that one must bleed
XIX。，Down these hillmen pour like cattle
。，Out beyond the flush of light.
The feelings of the totter-knee'd.。，
Yellow flamed the meady sunset;。，
Where the robe and vest divide,。，In his spear-heads lies the foe.
They are poison: they have thirst。，Here and there his heart would cleave
，。，Nay, not wrath the king possessed,