He seized his sword, thick, broad, and long,
Well-forged, well-hammered, tempered strong,
Polished, of purest metal made,
Like lightning blazed the shining blade;
Jagged like a saw, it tore and hewed,
Inured to slaughter, blood-embrued;
Dire horror, and destructive fate,
On the full age attentive wait;
’Twas certain death its stroke to feel;
Strength-withering, life-devouring steel,