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NOTES.
99
And loosed her bloodhounds from the den. . . . .They started from dreams of slaughtered men,And, by the light of her poison eye,Did her work o'er the wide earth frightfully:The dreadful stench of her torches flare,Fed with human fat, polluted the air:The curses, the shrieks, the ceaseless criesOf the many-mingling miseries,As on she trod, ascended highAnd trumpeted my victory!—Brother, tell what thou hast done.
vice.I have extinguished the noon-day sun,In the carnage-smoke of battles won:Famine, murder, hell, and power,Were glutted in that glorious hourWhich searchless fate had stamped for meWith the seal of her security.....For the bloated wretch on yonder throneCommanded the bloody fray to rise:Like me he joyed at the stifled moanWrung from a nation's miseries;While the snakes, whose slime even him defiled,In ecstasies of malice smiled:They thought 'twas theirs,—but mine the deed!Theirs is the toil, but mine the meed—Ten thousand victims madly bleed.They dream that tyrants goad them thereWith poisonous war to taint the air:
