One army struck -- their foes Struck not in answer; Magnus' swords were cold, But Caesar's reeked with slaughter and with guilt.
Nor Fortune lingered, but decreed the doom Which swept the ruins of a world away.
Soon as withdrawn from all the spacious plain, Pompeius' horse was ranged upon the flanks; Passed through the outer files, the lighter armed Of all the nations joined the central strife, With divers weapons armed, but all for blood Of Rome athirst: then blazing torches flew, Arrows and stones.

and ponderous balls of lead Molten by speed of passage through the air.
There Ituraean archers and the Mede Winged forth their countless shafts till all the sky Grew dark with missiles hurled; and from the night Brooding above, Death struck his victims down, Guiltless such blow, while all the crime was heaped Upon the Roman spear.

In line oblique Behind the standards Caesar in reserve Had placed some companies of foot, in fear The foremost ranks might waver.

These at his word, No trumpet sounding, break upon the ranks Of Magnus' horsemen where they rode at large Flanking the battle.

They, unshamed of fear And careless of the fray, when first a steed Pierced through by javelin spurned with sounding hoof The temples of his rider, turned the rein, And through their comrades spurring from the field In panic, proved that not with warring Rome Barbarians may grapple.