Of his young victories, had illum’d its way!
Oh, ’twas not then the time for tame debates,
Ye men of Gaul, when chains were at your gates;
When he, who fled before your Chieftain’s eye,
As geese from eagles on Mount Taurus fly,
Denounc’d against the land, that spurn’d his chain,
Myriads of swords to bind it fast again—
Myriads of fierce invading swords, to track
Through your best blood, his path of vengeance back;
When Europe’s Kings, that never yet combin’d