Holiday Stories for Young People Part 16

But now no stroke of woodman Is heard by Auser's rill; No hunter tracks the stag's green path Up the Ciminian hill; Unwatched along c.l.i.tumnus Grazes the milk-white steer; Unharmed the water-fowl may dip In the Volsinian mere.

VIII.

The harvests of Arretium This year old men shall reap; This year young boys in Umbro Shall plunge the struggling sheep; And in the vats of Luna This year the must shall foam Round the white feet of laughing girls Whose sires have marched to Rome.

IX.

There be thirty chosen prophets, The wisest of the land, Who always by Lars Porsena Both morn and evening stand; Evening and morn the Thirty Have turned the verses o'er, Traced from the right on linen white By mighty seers of yore.

X.

And with one voice the Thirty Have their glad answer given: "Go forth, go forth, Lars Porsena; Go forth, beloved of Heaven: Go, and return in glory To Clusium's royal dome, And hang round Nurscia's altars The golden shields of Rome."

XI.

And now hath every city Sent up her tale of men; The foot are fourscore thousand, The horse are thousands ten.

Before the gates of Sutrium Is met the great array.

A proud man was Lars Porsena Upon the trysting-day.

XII.

For all the Etruscan armies Were ranged beneath his eye, And many a banished Roman, And many a stout ally; And with a mighty following To join the muster came The Tusculan Mamilius, Prince of the Latian name.

XIII.

But by the yellow Tiber Was tumult and affright: From all the s.p.a.cious champaign To Rome men took their flight.

A mile around the city The throng stopped up the ways; A fearful sight it was to see Through two long nights and days.

XIV.

For aged folk on crutches, And women great with child, And mothers sobbing over babes That clung to them and smiled; And sick men borne in litters High on the necks of slaves, And troops of sunburnt husbandmen With reaping-hooks and staves;

XV.

And droves of mules and a.s.ses Laden with skins of wine, And endless flocks of goats and sheep, And endless herds of kine, And endless trains of wagons That creaked beneath the weight Of corn-sacks and of household goods, Choked every roaring gate.

XVI.

Now, from the rock Tarpeian, Could the wan burghers spy The line of blazing villages Red in the midnight sky, The Fathers of the City, They sat all night and day, For every hour some horseman came With tidings of dismay.

XVII.

To eastward and to westward Have spread the Tuscan bands; Nor house nor fence nor dovecot In Crustumerium stands.

Verbenna down to Ostia Hath wasted all the plain; Astur hath stormed Janiculum, And the stout guards are slain.

XVIII.

I wis, in all the Senate, There was no heart so bold But sore it ached and fast it beat When that ill news was told.

Forthwith up rose the Consul, Up rose the Fathers all; In haste they girded up their gowns And hied them to the wall.

XIX.

They held a council standing Before the River Gate; Short time was there, ye well may guess, For musing or debate.

Out spake the Consul roundly, "The bridge must straight go down, For, since Janiculum is lost, Naught else can save the town."

XX.

Just then a scout came flying, All wild with haste and fear: "To arms! to arms! Sir Consul; Lars Porsena is here!"

On the low hills to westward The Consul fixed his eye, And saw the swarthy storm of dust Rise fast along the sky.

XXI.

And nearer fast, and nearer, Doth the red whirlwind come; And louder still, and still more loud, From underneath that rolling cloud, Is heard the trumpet's war-note proud, The trampling and the hum.

And plainly and more plainly Now through the gloom appears, Far to left and far to right, In broken gleams of dark-blue light, The long array of helmets bright, The long array of spears.

XXII.

And plainly and more plainly, Above that glimmering line, Now might ye see the banners Of twelve fair cities shine; But the banner of proud Clusium Was highest of them all, The terror of the Umbrian, The terror of the Gaul.

XXIII.

And plainly and more plainly.

Now might the burghers know, By port and vest, by horse and crest, Each warlike Luc.u.mo.

There Cilnius of Arretium On his fleet roan was seen; And Astur of the fourfold shield, Girt with the brand none else may wield, Tolumnius with the belt of gold, And dark Verbenna from the hold By reedy Thrasymene.

XXIV.

Fast by the royal standard, O'erlooking all the war, Lars Porsena of Clusium Sat in his ivory car.

By the right wheel rode Mamilius, Prince of the Latian name; And by the left false s.e.xtus, That wrought the deed of shame.

XXV.

But when the face of s.e.xtus Was seen among the foes, A yell that rent the firmament From all the town arose.

On the house-tops was no woman But spat toward him and hissed, No child but screamed out curses And shook its little fist.

XXVI.

But the Consul's brow was sad, And the Consul's speech was low, And darkly looked he at the wall, And darkly at the foe.

"Their van will be upon us Before the bridge goes down; And if they once may win the bridge What hope to save the town?"

XXVII.

Then out spake brave Horatius, The Captain of the Gate: "To every man upon this earth Death cometh soon or late.

And how can man die better Than facing fearful odds, For the ashes of his fathers And the temples of his G.o.ds.

XXVIII.

"And for the tender mother Who dandled him to rest, And for the wife who nurses His baby at her breast, And for the holy maidens Who feed the eternal flame, To save them from false s.e.xtus That wrought the deed of shame?