Whelps

Then fury spurred their courage, and behold, / As ravening wolves, when darkness hides the day, / Stung with mad fire of famine uncontrolled, / Prowl from their dens, and leave the whelps to stay, / With jaws athirst and gaping for the prey. / So to sure death, amid the darkness there, / Where swords, and spears, and foemen bar the way, / Into the centre of the town we fare. / Night with her shadowy cone broods o'er the vaulted air.

The chief havoc was committed by a she-wolf, which, with her annual litter of whelps, had infested the neighbourhood.