Journeys Through Bookland, Volume 6 | Page 8

welcome,?Fair guests, that waits you here!?What noble Lucumo comes next?To taste our Roman cheer?"
But at his haughty challenge?A sullen murmur ran,?Mingled of wrath and shame and dread,?Along that glittering van.?There lacked not men of prowess,?Nor men of lordly race;?For all Etruria's noblest?Were round the fatal place.
But all Etruria's noblest?Felt their hearts sink to see?On the earth the bloody corpses,?In the path the dauntless Three:?And, from the ghastly entrance?Where those bold Romans stood,?All shrank, like boys who unaware,?Ranging the woods to start a hare,?Come to the mouth of the dark lair?Where, growling low, a fierce old bear?Lies amidst bones and blood.
Was none who would be foremost?To lead such dire attack:?But those behind cried "Forward!"?And those before cried "Back!"?And backward now and forward?Wavers the deep array;?And on the tossing sea of steel,?To and fro the standards reel;?And the victorious trumpet-peal?Dies fitfully away.
Yet one man for one moment?Stood out before the crowd;?Well known was he to all the Three,?And they gave him greeting loud.?"Now welcome, welcome, Sextus!?Now welcome to thy home!?Why dost thou stay, and turn away??Here lies the road to Rome."
Thrice looked he at the city;?Thrice looked he at the dead;?And thrice came on in fury,?And thrice turned back in dread;?And, white with fear and hatred,?Scowled at the narrow way?Where, wallowing in a pool of blood,?The bravest Tuscans lay.
But meanwhile axe and lever?Have manfully been plied;?And now the bridge hangs tottering?Above the boiling tide.?"Come back, come back, Horatius!"?Loud cried the Fathers all.?"Back, Lartius! back, Herminius!?Back, ere the ruin fall!"
Back darted Spurius Lartius;?Herminius darted back:?And, as they passed, beneath their feet?They felt the timbers crack.?But when they turned their faces,?And on the farther shore?Saw brave Horatius stand alone,?They would have crossed once more.
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.
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.
Alone stood brave Horatius,?But constant still in mind;?Thrice thirty thousand foes before,?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."
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[18-22]?The white porch of his home;?And he spake to the noble river?That rolls by the towers of Rome.
"O Tiber! father Tiber![18-23]?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.
No sound of joy or sorrow?Was heard from either bank;?But friends and foes in dumb surprise,?With parted lips and straining eyes,?Stood gazing where he sank;?And when above the surges?They saw his crest appear,?All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry,?And even the ranks of Tuscany?Could scarce forbear to cheer.
But fiercely ran the current,?Swollen high by months of rain:?And fast his blood was flowing,?And he was sore in pain,?And heavy with his armor,?And spent with changing blows:?And oft they thought him sinking,?But still again he rose.
Never, I ween, did swimmer,?In such an evil case,?Struggle through such a raging flood?Safe to the landing-place:?But his limbs were borne up bravely?By the brave heart within,?And our good father Tiber?Bore bravely up his chin.
"Curse on him!" quoth false Sextus;?"Will not the villain drown??But for this stay, ere close of day?We should have sacked the town!"?"Heaven help him!" quoth Lars Porsena,?"And bring him safe to shore;?For such a gallant feat of arms?Was never seen before."
And now he feels the bottom;?Now on dry earth he stands;?Now round him throng the Fathers?To press his gory hands;?And now, with shouts and clapping,?And noise of weeping loud,?He enters through the River-Gate,?Borne by the joyous crowd.
They gave him of the corn-land,?That was of public right,?As much as two strong oxen?Could plow from morn till night;?And they made a molten image,?And set it up on high,?And there it stands unto this day?To witness if I lie.
It stands in the Comitium,[20-24]?Plain for all folk to see;?Horatius in his harness,?Halting upon one knee:?And underneath is written,?In letters all of gold,?How valiantly he kept the bridge?In the brave days of old.
And still his name sounds stirring?Unto the men of Rome,?As the trumpet-blast that cries to them?To charge the Volscian[20-25] home;?And wives still pray to Juno[20-26]?For boys with hearts as bold?As his who kept the bridge so well?In the brave days of old.
And in the nights of winter,?When the cold north-winds blow,?And the long howling of the wolves?Is heard amidst the snow;?When round the lonely cottage?Roars loud the tempest's din,?And the good