And quench my anger in her flowing blood.830
Soon shall my flames enwrap the city's walls,
And in the ruins of her falling homes
The people shall be buried; squalid want,
Dire hunger, grief-all these shall they endure.
Too fat upon the blessings of our age
Has this vile mob become, and know not how835
To bear our clemency and relish peace;
But, rash and reckless, are they ever borne
By shifting tides of passion to their hurt.