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The Destruction of Sennacherib by Lord Byron

The Assyrian came down like a wolf on the fold
His cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold
The sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea
The blue wave rolled nightly on deep Galilee

Like the leaves of the forest when summer is green
The host with their banners at sunset were seen
Like the leaves of the forest when autumn hath blown
The host on the morrow lay withered and strown

The Angel of Death spreads his wings on the blast
And passed in the face of the foe as he passed
The eyes of the sleeper waxed deadly and chill
Their hearts but once heaved and forever grew still

There lay the steed with his nostril all wide
Through not rolled the breath of his pride
The foam of his gasping lay white on the turf
As cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf

There lay the rider, distorted and pale
With the dew on his brow and the rust on his mail
The tents were all silent, the banners alone
The lances unlifted and the trumpets unblown

The widows of Ashur are loud in their wail
The idols are broke in the Temples of Baal
The strength of the gentile unsmote by the sword
Hath melted like snow in the glance of the lord


I had to memorize this poem for Advanced English class, but I love reciting it.