"Not thicker billows beat the Lybian main, When pale Orion sits in wintry rain; Nor thicker harvests on rich Hermus rise, Or Lycian fields, when Phobus burns the skies, Than stand these troops: their bucklers ring around; Their trampling turns the turf and shakes the solid ground:"
Endroit: Chapter XII. Apology For Raimond Sebond. · ¶2315 Licence: Public domain · Source Le texte est donné tel que dans l'édition, sans retouche.