The funeral presage of to-day.’
Thus as she speaks, the attendant train
Behold her writhing as in pain,
Her hands with slaughter sprinkled o’er,
And the fell weapon spouting gore.
Loud clamors thrill the lofty halls:
Fame shakes the town, confounds, appalls:
Each house resounds with women’s cries.
And funeral wails assault the skies:
E’en as one day should war o’erthrow