第419章 XLVI

In running to their death the wretches vie, Nor cease because their comrades perish near:

Yet bitterer in such a mode to die, Than death itself, does to the troop appear.

They grudge to forfeit precious life, and lie Crushed by the fragment of a broken spear;

And think foul scorn beneath the pounding stake Strangely to die the death of frog or snake.