And the swift lightnings glance.
Hard proof of valour this,—the spirit’s fiery test:
Fierce combat, grown more fierce,—bear high the burning breast!
See on the waves there ride two mountains, fiery-bound,
Ætna and Hecla, loose on ocean’s heaving bed,—
The burning torches spread,
And ruin stalks around.
Ocean, and shore, and air, rush backward at the sight,
The Greek and Turk stand still, and groan in wild affright;
Calm as a rock the Russ is welcoming death with death;