Sack, burne, kill,
Downe with all, let all be levell'd.
IX.
And, thou Babel, when the tide
50Of thy pride
Now a flowing, growes to turning;
Victor now, shall then be thrall,
And shall fall
To as low an ebbe of mourning.
Sack, burne, kill,
Downe with all, let all be levell'd.
And, thou Babel, when the tide
50Of thy pride
Now a flowing, growes to turning;
Victor now, shall then be thrall,
And shall fall
To as low an ebbe of mourning.