From the noise of the horse and the bowmen, IV. 29
All the land[217] is in flight,
They are into the caves, huddle in thickets,[218]
Are up on the crags.
Every town of its folk is forsaken
No habitant in it.
All is up! Thou destined to ruin(?)[219] 30
What doest thou now?
That thou dressest in scarlet,
And deck'st thee in deckings of gold,