I heard the torrents leap and gush A small green isle, it seemed no more, The fish swam by the castle wall, And they seemed joyous each and all; It was as is a new-dug grave, And yet my glance, too much oppressed, XIV It might be months, or years, or days, I had no hope my eyes to raise, And clear them of their dreary mote: At last men came to set me free, I asked not why, and recked not where; It was at length the same to me, Fettered or fetterless to be, I learned to love despair. And thus when they appeared at last, 70 HORATIUS 1 A LAY MADE ABOUT THE YEAR OF THE CITY CCCLX THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY I Lars Porsena 2 of Clusium 3 By the Nine Gods he swore II East and west and south and north And tower and town and cottage Have heard the trumpet's blast. 1. Because of their tyranny, the Tarquins were banished from Rome, 509 B. C. "The banished King Tarquinius, however, soon marched with a vast Etruscan army against Rome, and drove the Romans, who had advanced beyond the Tiber to meet him, back into the city. The Romans destroyed the wooden bridge, by which they effected their retreat, and thus cut off the pursuit of the Etruscans." -Abbot's Italy. The various places mentioned are in Italy or on neighboring shores. Macaulay says of the Lays of Ancient Rome, of which this is one: "In the poems the author speaks, not in his own person, but in the persons of ancient minstrels who know only what Roman citizens born three or four hundred years before the, Christian era may be supposed to have known, and who are in nowise above the passions and prejudices of their age and nation." 2. Lars Porsena. Emperor of the ancient Etruscans. 3. Nine Gods. The nine great gods of the Etruscans, who alone had the power of hurling the thunderbolt. Shame on the false Etruscan Is on the march for Rome! III The horsemen and the footmen From many a stately market-place, From many a fruitful plain; From many a lonely hamlet, Which, hid by beech and pine, Like an eagle's nest, hangs on the crest Of purple Apennine; IV From lordly Volaterræ, Where scowls the far-famed hold Piled by the hands of giants. For godlike kings of old; From sea-girt Populonia, Whose sentinels descry Sardinia's snowy mountain-tops Fringing the southern sky; V From the proud mart of Pisæ, 4. Triremes. Warships with three banks of oars. From where sweet Clanis wanders Through corn and vines and flowers; From where Cortona lifts to heaven Her diadem of towers. VI Tall are the oaks whose acorns Fat are the stags that champ the boughs Of the Ciminian hill; Beyond all streams Clitumnus Is to the herdsman dear; Best of all pools the fowler loves The great Volsinian mere.5 VII But now no stroke of woodman No hunter tracks the stag's green path Grazes the milk-white steer; In the Volsinian mere. VIII The harvests of Arretium This year old men shall reap; 5. Mere. Sea, lake. |