Pressed by Pompeius' steeds, whose horny hoofs

Rang in their gallop on the grassy fields

And killed the succulence. They strengthless lay

Upon the mown expanse, nor pile of straw,

Brought from full barns in place of living grass,

Relieved their craving; shook their panting flanks,

And as they wheeled Death struck his victim down.

Then foul contagion filled the murky air

(Editor：person)