And let the awful tale
With grief and horror every realm o’ershade,
From Afric’s burning main
To the far sea, in other hues array’d,
And the red limits of the Orient’s reign,
Whose nations, haughty though subdued, behold
Christ’s glorious banner to the winds unfold.
Alas! for those that in embattled power,
And vain array of chariots and of horse,
O desert Libya! sought thy fatal coast!