FURIES! Why sleep amid the carnage? � Rise!
Bring up my wolves of war, my pointed spears.
Daggers yet reeking, banners filled with sighs,
And paint your cheeks with gore, and lave
your locks in tears.
On yon white bosom see that happy child!
Seize it, deface its infant charms! and say,
Anarchy view'd its mangled limbs, and smiled!
Strike the young mother to the earth!
Away!
This is my era! Over the dead I go!
From my hot nostrils minute murders fall!
Behind my burning ear lurks feeble woe!
Filled with my dragon's ire, my slaves for
kingdoms call!
Hear them not, father of the ensanguined
race!
World! give my monsters way! � Death! Keep thy
steady chase!

Penned by my hand on the 15th of Valnuary, in the year 393 AF.