Some weightier arms than crooks and staffs The villain Arab, as he prowls for prey, Oft marks with blood and wasting flames the way. Yet none so cruel as the Tartar foe, To death inur'd, and nurs'd in scenes of woe. He said; when loud along the vale was heard A shriller shriek; and nearer fires appear'd: The affrighted shepherds, through the dews of night, Wide o'er the moonlit hills renew'd their flight. |