Fierce at the door; and while no foe blockades

The soldier hungers; fortunes buy not now

The meanest measure; yet, alas! is found

The fasting peasant, who, in gain of gold,

Will sell his little all! And now the hills

Are seen no more; and rivers whelmed in one;

Beasts with their homes sweep downwards; and the tide

Repels the foaming torrent. Nor did night

(Editor：way)