Classic Poem

Upon his helmet was a serpent pight,
And many a lengthen'd fold his tail unwound;
His sparkling eyes emit a flashing light,
And seem to hurl the levin-brond around,
His crashing jaws grate thunder's harshest sound:
Tall was the courser that this Paynim rode,
For very pride he seem'd to spurn the ground;
He champ'd the foamy bit, his eye-balls glow'd,
Adown his shining sides the sweat in torrents flow'd.