A foe too strong; for soon, though no weakling,
Clovis retreats—his men returned no blow;
But fled as timid sheep before a beast of prey;
The conquering Alemanni will surely win the day.
"O king! cry on Clotilda's Christ for aid!"
Shouted Aurelian, as the monarch fled;
Then, on his helmet, Clovis his hand laid,
And lifting it, these words the monarch said:
"My gods have failed to help: O Christ, Clotilda's God,
Grant me Thy mighty aid, and I will kiss Thy rod."