Lays of Ancient Rome - LightNovelsOnl.com
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"The ranks of false Tarentum Like hunted sheep shall fly: In vain the bold Epirotes Shall round their standards die: And Apennine's gray vultures Shall have a n.o.ble feast On the fat and the eyes Of the the huge earth-shaking beast.
XXVI
"Hurrah! for the good weapons That keep the War-G.o.d's land.
Hurrah! for Rome's stout pilum In a stout Roman hand.
Hurrah! for Rome's short broadsword That through the thick array Of levelled spears and serried s.h.i.+elds Hews deep its gory way.
XXVII
"Hurrah! for the great triumph That stretches many a mile.
Hurrah! for the wan captives That pa.s.s in endless file.
Ho! bold Epirotes, whither Hath the Red King taken flight?
Ho! dogs of false Tarentum, Is not the gown washed white?
XXVIII
"Hurrah! for the great triumph That stretches many a mile.
Hurrah! for the rich dye of Tyre, And the fine web of Nile, The helmets gay with plumage Torn from the pheasant's wings, The belts set thick with starry gem That shone on Indian kings, The urns of ma.s.sy silver, The goblets rough with gold, The many-colored tablets bright With loves and wars of old, The stone that breathes and struggles, The bra.s.s that seems to speak;-- Such cunning they who dwell on high Have given unto the Greek.
XXIX
"Hurrah! for Manius Curius, The bravest son of Rome, Thrice in utmost need sent forth, Thrice drawn in triumph home.
Weave, weave, for Manius Curius The third embroidered gown: Make ready the third lofty car, And twine the third green crown; And yoke the steeds of Rosea With necks like a bended bow, And deck the bull, Mevania's bull, The bull as white as snow.
x.x.x
"Blest and thrice blest the Roman Who sees Rome's brightest day, Who sees that long victorious pomp Wind down the Sacred Way, And through the bellowing Forum, And round the Suppliant's Grove, Up to the everlasting gates Of Capitolian Jove.
x.x.xI
"Then where, o'er two bright havens, The towers of Corinth frown; Where the gigantic King of Day On his own Rhodes looks down; Where oft Orontes murmurs Beneath the laurel shades; Where Nile reflects the endless length Of dark red colonnades; Where in the still deep water, Sheltered from waves and blasts, Bristles the dusky forest Of Byrsa's thousand masts; Where fur-clad hunters wander Amidst the northern ice; Where through the sand of morning-land The camel bears the spice; Where Atlas flings his shadow Far o'er the western foam, Shall be great fear on all who hear The might name of Rome."
