Fierce as the dragon scaled in gold
Through the deep files he darts his glowing eye;And pleased their order to behold,His gorgeous standard blazing to the sky,Rolls onward his Assyrian car,
Directs the thunder of the war,
Bids the wing'd arrows' iron storm advanceAgainst the slow and cumbrous lance.
What shall withstand the torrent of his swayWhen dreadful o'er the yielding shores
The impetuous tide of battle roars,
And sweeps the weak opposing mounds away?
So Persia, with resistless might,
Rolls her unnumber'd hosts of heroes to the fight.
strophe 2
For when misfortune's fraudful hand
Prepares to pour the vengeance of the sky,What mortal shall her force withstand?
What rapid speed the impending fury fly?
Gentle at first with flatt'ring smiles
She spreads her soft enchanting wiles,
So to her toils allures her destined prey,Whence man ne'er breaks unhurt away.
For thus from ancient times the Fates ordainThat Persia's sons should greatly dare,
Unequall'd in the works of war;
Shake with their thund'ring steeds the ensanguined plain,Dreadful the hostile walls surround,And lay their rampired towers in ruins on the ground.
