That with their weight, dame Terrae’s aged backe
Beneath the sway of horse and foot did cracke.
161.
And as blacke swarmes of ants with loaden thies,
Hauing vpon the flowrie spring made pray,
In number numberlesse with fresh supplies,
Climbes some steepe hillock, and through all the day
By thousands in thick flockes do fill the way;
So Spaine’s great host from trampled shores did wend,
In thronging troopes, their mountaine ships t’ascend.