Page:Lalla Rookh - Moore - 1817.djvu/118

 He looks impatient for the promised spears Of the wild Hordes and TARTAR mountaineers; They come not--while his fierce beleaguerers pour Engines of havoc in, unknown before, And horrible as new;--javelins, that fly Enwreathed with smoky flames thro' the dark sky, And red-hot globes that opening as they mount Discharge as from a kindled Naphtha fount Showers of consuming fire o'er all below; Looking as thro' the illumined night they go Like those wild birds that by the Magians oft At festivals of fire were sent aloft Into the air with blazing fagots tied To their huge wings, scattering combustion wide.