Houris, or aught except his florid race,
Who grew like cedars round him gloriously—
When he beheld his latest hero grace
The earth, which he became like a felled tree,
Paused for a moment from the fight, and cast
A glance on that slain son, his first and last.
CXVII.
The soldiers, who beheld him drop his point,
Stopped as if once more willing to concede
Quarter, in case he bade them not "aroynt!"