Classic Poem

As when a raging torrent thund'ring down
From some steep mountain, deluges the plain:
Its swelling waves the subject valley drown,
And sweep away the labours of the swain,
His flocks, his herds, his crops of golden grain:
So the fierce Soldan rush'd amid the throng,
And urg'd his fiery steed o'er hills of slain;
Like the wing'd whirlwind's blast he pour'd along,
And look'd Briareus fierce, or Adamastor strong.