XX. "And such as is the War-god, The author of thy line, And such as she who suckled thee, His baths and his perfumes; Leave to the sons of Carthage Leave to the Greek his marble Nymphs XXI. "Thine, Roman, is the pilum: Roman, the sword is thine, The even trench, the bristling mound, The legion's ordered line; And thine the wheels of triumph, Which with their laurelled train Move slowly up the shouting streets XXII. "Beneath thy yoke the Volscian Before thy chairs shall bow: The Lucumoes of Arnus Shall quake thy rods to see; And the proud Samnite's heart of steel Shall yield to only thee. XXIII. "The Gaul shall come against thee From the land of snow and night; Thou shalt give his fair-haired armies To the raven and the kite. XXIV. "The Greek shall come against thee, The conqueror of the East. Beside him stalks to battle The huge earth-shaking beast, The beast on whom the castle With all its guards doth stand, The beast who hath between his eyes The serpent for a hand. First march the bold Epirotes, Wedged close with shield and spear; And the ranks of false Tarentum Are glittering in the rear. XXV. "The ranks of false Tarentum Like hunted sheep shall fly: In vain the bold Epirotes Shall round their standards die: And Apennine's grey vultures Shall have a noble feast On the fat and the eyes Of the huge earth-shaking beast. XXVI. "Hurrah! for the good weapons Hurrah! for Rome's short broadsword, Of levelled spears and serried shields Hews deep its gory way. XXVII. "Hurrah! for the great triumph That stretches many a mile. Hurrah! for the wan captives That pass in endless file. Ho! bold Epirotes, whither Hath the Red King ta'en flight? Ho! dogs of false Tarentum, Is not the gown washed white? XXVIII. Hurrah! for the great triumph Torn from the pheasant's wings, The belts set thick with starry gems The goblets rough with gold, With loves and wars of old, The stone that breathes and struggles. The brass that seems to speak; Such cunning they who dwell on high Have given unto the Greek. XXIX. "Hurrah! for Manius Curius, Thrice in utmost need sent forth, 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. XXX. "Blest and thrice blest the Roman And round the Suppliant's Grove, Up to the everlasting gates XXXI. "Then where, o'er two bright havens The towers of Corinth frown; On his own Rhodes looks down; 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; Far o'er the western foam, MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. SONGS OF THE HUGUENOTS. I. MONCONTOUR. OH! weep for Moncontour. Oh! weep for the hour, Oh! weep for Moncontour. Oh! weep for the slain, Who for faith and for freedom lay slaughtered in vain; Oh! weep for the living, who linger to bear The renegade's shame, or the exile's despair. One look, one last look, to the cots and the towers, To the row of our vines, and the beds of our flowers; Alas! we must leave thee, dear desolate home, Farewell to thy fountains, farewell to thy shades, Farewell and for ever, the priest and the slave, II. IVRY, OR THE WAR OF THE LEAGUE. Now glory to the Lord of Hosts, from whom all glories are ! Now let there be the merry sound of music and of dance, Through thy cornfields green, and sunny vines, oh pleasant land of France! And thou, Rochelle, our own Rochelle, proud city of the waters, For cold, and stiff, and still are they who wrought thy walls annoy. Oh how our hearts were beating, when, at the dawn of day, And good Coligni's hoary hair all dabbled with his blood; And we cried unto the living God, who rules the fate of war, To fight for His own holy name, and Henry of Navarre. |