To clouds from th’ earth her stature straight is growne.
There whatsoever by her trumpe is blowne,]
The sound, that both by sea and land out-flies,
Rebounds againe, and verberates the skies.
They say, the earth that first the giants bred,
For anger that the gods did them dispatch,
Brought forth this sister of those monsters dead,
Full light of foote, swift wings the winds to catch:
Such monsters erst did nature never hatch.
As many plumes she hath from top to toe,