Or in among the poison-breathing swarms

Of monsters nourished by the sluggish Nile.

For, though it be to solitudes remote

The hoarse vague echoes of my sorrows sound

Thy matchless cruelty, my dismal fate

Shall carry them to all the spacious world.

Disdain hath power to kill, and patience dies

Slain by suspicion, be it false or true;