"And, for Ravenna sacked and ravaged lies, The Roman pastor bites his lips through woe;
Called by him, from the hills, in tempest's guise, Swoop the fierce Germans on the fields below.
It seems each Frenchman unresisting flies, Chased by their bands beyond the mountain snow, And that they set the mulberry's thriving shoot There, whence they plucked the golden lily's root.
