⁠More fearful, since man first
⁠Slaked with man's blood his thirst,
⁠Than when Rome clashed with Hannibal in fight,
⁠Till tower on ruining tower was hurled
Where Scipio stood, and Carthage was not in the world.

⁠Who carved their several praise in words of gold
To bare the brows of conquerors and to brand,
⁠Made shelterless of laurels bought and sold
For price of blood or incense, dust or sand,
⁠Triumph or terror. He that sought of old
His father Ammon in a stranger's land,
⁠And shrank before the serpentining fold,