With eager eye and clamorous tongue
In broad career they press along,
Fierce on their victim gathering round—
—He suffers by no single wound!
Thus o’er the azure fields of night
Shoot the quick rays of northern light,
To one bright point converg’d they flow,
And round the silver zenith glow.
So, when a lake surcharg’d by rain
Bursts, and o’erwhelms the sloping plain,