Nor those, with Venus' car who fly
Through the light clouds and yielding sky
But the rapacious vulture brood,
With crooked beak that thirsts for blood,
And iron fangs. Their war, 'tis said,
For a dog's carrion corse was made.
Shrill shrieks resound from shore to shore;
The earth beneath is sanguin'd o'er;
Versed in the science to destroy,
Address and valor they employ.