Thus fighting fires a while themselves consume, But straight, like Turks forced on to win or die, They first lay tender bridges of their fume, And o'er the breach in unctuous vapours fly. 247. Part stay for passage, till a gust of wind Ships o'er their forces in a shining sheet; Part creeping under ground, their journey blind, And climbing from below their fellows meet. 248. Thus to some desert plain, or old wood-side, Dire night-hags come from far to dance their round; And o'er broad rivers on their fiends they ride, Or sweep in clouds above the blasted ground. 249. No help avails; for, hydra-like, the fire Lifts up his hundred heads to aim his way; And scarce the wealthy can one half retire, Before he rushes in to share the prey. 250. The rich grow suppliant, and the poor grow proud; Those offer mighty gain, and these ask more; So void of pity is the ignoble crowd, When others' ruin may increase their store. 251. As those who live by shores with joy behold Some wealthy vessel split or stranded nigh; And from the rocks leap down for shipwrecked gold, And seek the tempests which the others fly: 252. So these but wait the owners' last despair, And what's permitted to the flames invade; E'en from their jaws they hungry morsels tear, And on their backs the spoils of Vulcan lade. 253. The days were all in this lost labour spent; And when the weary king gave place to night, His beams he to his royal brother lent, And so shone still in his reflective light.[187] 254. Night came, but without darkness or repose, A dismal picture of the general doom; Where souls, distracted when the trumpet blows, And half unready, with their bodies come. 255. Those who have homes, when home they do repair, To a last lodging call their wandering friends; Their short uneasy sleeps are broke with care, To look how near their own destruction tends. 256. Those, who have none, sit round where once it was, And with full eyes each wonted room require; Haunting the yet warm ashes of the place, As murdered men walk where they did expire. 257. Some stir up coals and watch the vestal fire, Others in vain from sight of ruin run; And while through burning lab'rinths they retire, With loathing eyes repeat what they would shun. 258. The most in fields, like herded beasts, lie down, To dews obnoxious on the grassy floor;[188] And while their babes in sleep their sorrows drown, Sad parents watch the remnants of their store. 259. While by the motion of the flames they guess What streets are burning now, and what are near, An infant, waking, to the paps would press, And meets, instead of milk, a falling tear. 260.