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In that fierce onset to the fray
There was no flout nor giving way;
To work they fell, with blow and thrust,
And strokes that shore the level dust
From shields descending. Then, anon,
Flickering in air their weapons shone,
With crossing clang so fierce and high,
As if the javelins of the sky,
The livid lightnings, at their speed,
Had met and quiver'd o'er each head.