Attila
What though his feet were shod with sharp, fierce flame, And death and ruin were his daily squires, The Scythian, helped by Heavens thunders, came: The time was ripe for Gods avenging fires. Lo! loose, lewd trulls, and lean, luxurious liars Had brought the fair, fine face of Rome to shame, And made her one with sins beyond a name That queenly daughter of imperial sires! The blood of elders like the blood of sheep, Was dashed across the circus. Once while din And dust and lightnings, and a draggled heap Of beast-slain men made lords with laughter leap, Night fell, with rain. The earth, so sick of sin, Had turned her face into the dark to weep.
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"What though his feet were shod with sharp, fierce flame,..."
Henry Kendall's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "Attila"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...