Classic Poem

At this the Soldan waxed wondrous proud,
And shook his bloody faulchion in the air;
Again he mingled in the fighting crowd,
And flash'd dismay even to our farthest rear,
Where'er he went, him followed wan despair;
He seem'd grim Mars by Hebru's echoing shore,
Such his fierce cheer, and stern deportment were;
He seem'd Achilles, stain'd with Trojan gore,
Or Nimrod, first of kings, who chac'd the tusky boan.