Wars of great kings and clash of armouries
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Whose swords no man could tell, whose spears
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Were numerous as wheat field's ears
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Rolled over all the great lands, and seas
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Were loud with navies, their devouring fires
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Behind the armies burned both fields and towns
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And sacked and crumbled or to flaming pyres
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Were cities made, where treasuries and crowns
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Kings and their folk, their wives and tender maids
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Were all consumed. Now silent are those courts
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Ruined the towers, whose old shape slowly fades
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And no feet pass beneath their broken ports
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The Rotting Horse On The Deadly Ground
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| Summoning |