"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 Gods, 28. "And for the tender mother Who feed the eternal flame, 29. "Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul, With all the speed ye may; May well be stopped by three. Now, who will stand on either hand, And keep the bridge with me?" 30. Then out spake Spurius Lartius, "Horatius," quoth the Consul, From Ostia's walls the crowd shail mark 41. But now no sound of laughter From all the vanguard rose. And for a space no man came forth To win the narrow pass. 42. But hark! the cry is Astur: And lo! the ranks divide; And the great Lord of Luna Comes with his stately stride. Upon his ample shoulders Clangs loud the fourfold shield, And in his hand he shakes the brand Which none but he can wield. '43. He smiled on those bold Romans If Astur clears the way? ?" Then, whirling up his broadsword And smote with all his might. Right deftly turned the blow. The blow, though turned, came yet too nigh; It missed his helm, but gashed his thigh: The Tuscans raised a joyful cry To see the red blood flow. 45. He reeled, and on Herminius He leaned one breathing-space; Then, like a wild cat mad with wounds, Sprang right at Astur's face. Through teeth, and skull, and helmet, So fierce a thrust he sped, The good sword stood a hand-breadth out Behind the Tuscan's head. 46. And the great Lord of Luna The giant arms lie spread; 47. fin Astur's throat Horatius Right firmly ussed his heel, 54. Back darted Spurius Lartius; And, as they passed, beneath their feet They would have crossed once more. 55. But with a crash like thunder Fell every loosened beam, And, like a dam, the mighty wreck Lay right athwart the stream: And a long shout of triumph Rose from the walls of Rome, As to the highest turret-tops Was splashed the yellow foam. 56. And like a horse unbroken When first he feels the rein, The furious river struggled hard, And tossed his tawny mane; And burst the curb, and bounded, Rejoicing to be free; And whirling down, in fierce career, Battlement, and plank, and pier, Rushed headlong to the sea. 57. Alone stood brave Horatius, And the broad flood behind. Down with him!" cried false Sextus, With a smile on his pale face. "Now yield thee," cried Lars Porsena, "Now yield thee to our grace." 58. Round turned he, as not deigning Those craven ranks to see; Naught spake he to Lars Porsena, To Sextus naught spake he ;] But he saw on Palatinus The white porch of his home; And he spake to the noble river That rolls by the towers of Rome. 59. "Oh, Tiber! father Tiber! To whom the Romans pray, A Roman's life, a Roman's arms, Take thou in charge this day!" So he spake, and speaking sheathed The good sword by his side, And, with his harness on his back, Plunged headlong in the tide. 60. No sound of joy or sorrow Was heard from either bank; But friends and foes in dumb surprise, They saw his crest appear, All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry, And even the ranks of Tuscany Could scarce forbear to cheer. VOL. IV.-69 |