There stretch'd a sleeping army. One by one,They took their places until thousands met;No leader's stars flash'd on before, and noneLean'd on his sword or stagger'd with his gun --I wonder if their feet have rested yet!
Then flash'd the living lightning from her eyes, And screams of horror rend th' affrighted skies, Not louder shrieks to pitying Heaven are cast, When husbands, or when lap dogs, breathe their last; Or when rich China vessels fallen, from high, In glittering dust and painted fragments lie.Alexander Pope
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