Now strike against each sharp projecting rock:
The frogs all grin, the eagle laughs aloud;
Who feels compassion for a Nidding base?
The marsh bespatters all his limbs with mud,
And brambles, brakes, and thorns his features fair deface.
Bruised by the rocks, now drip with blood his feet;
He weeps; but cold the cliff beholds his pain:
Against his bosom mercilessly beat
The howling tempest, hail, and snow, and rain.
Now in the ocean deep immersed he lies,