The ships have sailed from Marathon
On swift disaster’s wings;
And an evil dream hath fetched a groan
From the heart of the king of kings.
An eagle he saw, in the shades of night,
With a dove that bloodily strove;
And the weak hath vanquished the strong in fight—
The eagle hath fled from the dove.
Great Jove, that reigns in the starry plains,
To the heart of the king hath shown,