poetry
A multitude like which the populous North. poured never from her frozen loins to pass. Theme or the Danaw when her barbarous sons. Came like a deluge on the south and spread. Be neath Gibraltar to the Libyan sands. chained on the burning lake nor ever theme. Had risen of heaved his head but that the will. And high per mission of all filling heaven. Left him at large to his own dark designs. That with reiterated crimes he might. Heap on him self damnation while he sought. Evil to others and en raged might see. How all his malice served