The sheen of armour glistening in the sun,

Revealed a marching host. "Dash down," he cried,

Swift; as ye can, the bridge that spans the stream;

And thou, O river, from thy mountain source

With all thy torrents rushing, planks and beams

Ruined and broken on thy foaming breast

Bear onward to the sea. The war shall stop

Here, to our triumph; for this headlong chief