"They rose up and grasped their spears; the soldiers called to the captains, `Come, lead us and the captains cried to the king, `Direct thou the battle.'
"They rose up in their pride, twenty thousand men, and yet a twenty thousand.
"Their plumes covered the earth as the plumes of a bird cover her nest; they shook their spears and shouted, yea, they hurled their spears into the sunlight; they lusted for the battle and were glad. "They came up against me; their strong ones came running swiftly to crush me; they cried, `Ha! ha! he is as one already dead.'
"Then breathed I on them, and my breath was as the breath of a storm, and lo! they were not.
"My lightnings pierced them; I licked up their strength with the lightning of my spears; I shook them to the earth with the thunder of my shouting.
"They broke - they scattered - they were gone as the mists of the morning.
"They are food for the crows and the foxes, and the place of battle is fat with their blood.
"Where are the mighty ones who rose up in the morning?
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