Behold her, single in the field,
Yon solitary Highland lass!
Yon solitary Highland lass!
Narrative and Lyric Poems (first series) for use in the Lower School by Stevenson
[8] Clanis. The modern river Chiana.
[9] Auser. A tributary of the Anio.
[10] Ciminian hill. A lofty mountain in the northern Apennines.
[11] Clitumnus. The river Clitumno.
[12] Volsinian mere. A lake which took its name from the town of
Volsinii (modern Bolsena) situated on its banks.
[13] Arretium. Arezzo.
[14] Umbro. A river in Etruria,--the modern Ombrone.
[15] must. new wine.
[16] Written from right to left.
[17] Nurscia. The Etruscan goddess of fortune.
[18] golden shields. Twelve golden shields kept in the temple of
Vesta, and believed by the Romans to be bound up with the safety of
their city. See notes on pp. 68 and 71.
[19] tale. (A. S. _talian_, "to reckon". ) number.
[20] Sutrium. Sutri, a city about thirty miles from Rome.
[21] Tusculan Mamilius. Tusculum is the modern Frascati, a city about
twelve miles from Rome. Mamilius was the son-in-law of Tarquin.
[22] Latium was a province in central Italy, inhabited by the Latins.
It was conquered by Rome in the fourth century B. C.
[23] Tarpeian. The Tarpeian Rock was a cliff on one side of the
Capitoline Hill in Rome. Tarpeia, from whom the cliff took its name,
was the daughter of Tarpeius, the governor of the citadel, on this
hill. She betrayed the fortress to the Sabines, but as they entered,
they threw their shields upon her and she was crushed to death.
[24] Fathers of the City. The senators.
[25] Crustumerium. A Latin city a few miles from Rome.
[26] Ostia. A city at the mouth of the Tiber, fifteen miles from Rome.
[27] Janiculum. A hill on the right bank of the Tiber.
[28] I wis. See H. S. Grammar, p. 176.
[29] Consul. After the expulsion of the Tarquin kings, Rome was
governed by two chief magistrates, known as consuls.
[30] the River-Gate. The gate facing the Janiculum hill.
[31] bridge. The Sublician bridge, which connected Rome with
Janiculum.
[32] twelve fair cities. The Etruscan confederacy was composed of
twelve cities.
[33] Umbrian. Umbria was a division of Italy.
[34] the Gaul. The Gauls were beginning to invade Italy from the
north.
[35] port and vest. Bearing and dress.
[36] Lucumo. Etruscan chief.
[37] roan. A roan horse is of a reddish colour, with white hairs
thickly interspersed.
[38] fourfold. With four thicknesses of leather.
[39] Thrasymene. Lake Trasimenus (modern Lake of Perugia). It is
only about twenty feet deep.
[40] holy maidens. The vestal virgins, whose duty it was to keep the
fire burning on the altar in the temple of Vesta. Vesta was the
goddess of the home, and the vestal virgins were bound by oath never
to marry.
[41] Ramnian. The Ramnes were one of the three tribes of which the
Roman people were mainly comprised; the Tities were a second of these
tribes; Horatius himself belonged to the Luceres, the third tribe, so
that in the defence of the bridge all three tribes were represented.
[42] The story is supposed to be told by one of the plebeians, or
common people in Rome, about 120 years after the event took place.
[43] The speaker voices the grievances of the Plebeians against the
Patricians.
[44] Tribunes. The officers appointed to defend the rights of the
Plebeians against the encroachments of the Patricians.
[45] beard. openly defy.
[46] harness. armour.
[47] Tifernum. A town on the river Tiber.
[48] Ilva. Elba, an island in the Mediterranean, on the coast of
Italy.
[49] Nequinum. Narni, on the Nar, which is a tributary of the Tiber.
[50] Falerii. One of the twelve Etruscan cities.
[51] Urgo. An island in the Mediterranean.
[52] rover of the sea. pirate.
[53] Cosa. A town on the sea-coast.
[54] Albinia. A river in Etruria.
[55] Campania. A district along the sea-coast.
[56] hinds. peasants.
[57] The she-wolf's litter. A reference to the legend, of Romulus and
Remus, the mythical founders of Rome, who were said to have been
suckled by a she-wolf.
[58] Palatinus. The Palatine Hill, one of the seven hills of Rome.
[59] changing. exchanging.
[60] ween. think, fancy.
[61] of public right. Belonging to the state.
[62] Comitium. That part of the Roman forum, or public square, where
the Patricians were accustomed to meet.
[63] To charge the Volscian home. The Volsciana lived in the southern
part of Latium. They were constantly at war with the Romans. _Home_
is here an adverb strengthening the meaning of _charge_.
[64] Juno. Wife of Jupiter, and queen of heaven.
[65] Algidus. A hill about twelve miles from Rome.
ALICE BRAND.
Merry it is in the good greenwood,
When the mavis and merle[1] are singing,
When the deer sweeps by and the hounds are in cry,
And the hunter's horn is ringing.
"O Alice Brand, my native land 5
Is lost for love of you;
And we must hold by wood and wold,[2]
As outlaws wont to do.
"O Alice, 'twas all for thy locks so bright,
And 'twas all for thine eyes so blue, 10
That on the night of our luckless flight
Thy brother bold I slew.
"Now must I teach to hew the beech
The hand that held the glaive,[3]
For leaves to spread our lowly bed, 15
And stakes to fence our cave.
"And for vest of pall,[4] thy fingers small,
That wont on harp to stray,
A cloak must shear from the slaughtered deer,
To keep the cold away. " 20
"O Richard! if my brother died,
Twas but a fatal chance;
For darkling[5] was the battle tried,
And fortune sped the lance.
"If pall and vair[6] no more I wear, 25
Nor thou the crimson sheen,
As warm, we 'll say, is the russet gray,
As gay the forest-green.
"And, Richard, if our lot be hard,
And lost thy native land, 30
Still Alice has her own Richard,
And he his Alice Brand. "
'T is merry, 't is merry, in good greenwood
So blithe Lady Alice is singing;
On the beech's pride, and oak's brown side, 35
Lord Richard's axe is ringing.
Up spoke the moody Elfin King,[7]
Who woned[8] within the hill,--
Like wind in the porch of a ruined church,
His voice was ghostly shrill. 40
"Why sounds yon stroke on beech and oak,
Our moonlight circle's[9] screen?
Or who comes here to chase the deer,
Beloved of our Elfin Queen?
Or who may dare on wold to wear 45
The fairies' fatal green? [10]
"Up, Urgan, up! to yon mortal hie,
For thou wert christened[11] man;
For cross or sign thou wilt not fly,
For muttered word or ban. [12] 50
"Lay on him the curse of the withered heart,
The curse of the sleepless eye
Till he wish and pray that his life would part,
Nor yet find leave to die. "
Tis merry, 'tis merry, in good greenwood 55
Though the birds have stilled their singing,
The evening blaze doth Alice raise,
And Richard is fagots bringing.
Up Urgan starts, that hideous dwarf,
Before Lord Richard stands, 60
And, as he crossed and blessed himself,
"I fear not sign," quoth the grisly[13] elf,
"That is made with bloody hands. "
But out then spoke she, Alice Brand,
That woman void of fear,-- 65
"And if there's blood upon his hand,
'Tis but the blood of deer. "
"Now loud thou liest, thou bold of mood!
It cleaves unto his hand,
The stain of thine own kindly blood,[14] 70
The blood of Ethert Brand. "
Then forward stepped she, Alice Brand,
And made the holy sign,--
"And if there's blood on Richard's hand,
A spotless hand is mine. 75
"And I conjure[15] thee, demon elf,
By Him whom demons fear,
To show us whence thou art thyself,
And what thine errand here? "
"'Tis merry, 'tis merry, in Fairy-land, 80
When fairy birds are singing,
When the court doth ride by their monarch's side,
With bit and bridle ringing:
"And gayly shines the Fairy-land--
But all is glistening show 85
Like the idle gleam that December's beam
Can dart on ice and snow.
"And fading, like that varied gleam,
Is our inconstant shape,
"Who now like knight and lady seem, 90
And now like dwarf and ape.
"It was between the night and day,
When the Fairy King has power,
That I sunk down in a sinful fray,
And 'twixt life and death was snatched away 95
To the joyless Elfin bower.
"But wist[16] I of a woman bold,
Who thrice my brow durst sign,[17]
I might regain my mortal mould,
As fair a form as thine. " 100
She crossed him once--she crossed him twice---
That lady was so brave;
The fouler grew his goblin hue,
The darker grew the cave.
She crossed him thrice, that lady bold, 105
He rose beneath her hand,
The fairest knight on Scottish mould,
Her brother, Ethert Brand!
Merry it is in good greenwood,
When the mavis and merle are singing, 110
But merrier were they in Dunfermline[18] gray,
When all the bells were ringing.
--_Scott_
[1] mavis and merle. thrush and blackbird.
[2] wold. hilly, open country.
[3] glaive. sword.
[4] pall. A rich cloth from which mantles of noblemen were made.
[5] darkling. In the dark.
[6] vair. The fur of the squirrel.
[7] Elfin King. King of the fairies.
[8] woned. dwelt.
[9] circle. dance.
[10] fairies' fatal green. The dress of the fairies was green and
they were angered when mortals dared to wear garments of that colour.
[11] christened. Those who had been baptized were, according to
mediaeval belief, supposed to enjoy special advantages or privileges.
[12] ban. curse.
[13] grisly. horrible; hideous.
[14] kindly blood. The blood of your kindred.
[15] conjure. Call upon by oath. Distinguished from conjure, meaning
"to influence by magic. "
[16] wist. See High School Grammar, p. 176.
[17] sign. Make the sign of the cross upon ray brow.
[18] Dunfermline. A town, about twenty miles from Edinburgh.
THE SOLITARY REAPER.
Behold her, single in the field,
Yon solitary Highland lass!
Reaping and singing by herself,
Stop here, or gently pass!
Alone she cuts and binds the grain 5
And sings a melancholy strain.
Oh, listen! for the vale profound
Is overflowing with the sound.
No nightingale did ever chant
So sweetly to reposing bands 10
Of travellers in some shady haunt
Among Arabian sands:
No sweeter voice was ever heard
In spring time from the cuckoo-bird
Breaking the silence of the seas 15
Among the farthest Hebrides.
"Will no one tell me what she sings?
Perhaps the plaintive numbers now
For old, unhappy, far-off things,
And battles long ago. 20
Or is it some more humble lay,
Familiar matter of to-day?
Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain,
That has been, and may be again?
"Whate'er the theme, the maiden sang 25
As if her song could have no ending;
I saw her singing at her work,
And o'er the sickle bending;--
I listen'd motionless and still;
And, as I mounted up the hill, 30
The music in my heart I bore,
Long after it was heard no more.
--_Wordsworth_.
THE ISLAND OF THE SCOTS.
The Rhine is running deep and red, the island lies before,--
"Now is there one of all the host will dare to venture o'er?
For not alone the river's sweep might make a brave man quail;
The foe are on the further side, their shot comes fast as hail.
God help us, if the middle isle we may not hope to win; 5
Now is there any of the host will dare to venture in? "
"The ford is deep, the banks are steep, the island-shore lies wide;
Nor man nor horse could stem its force, or reach the further side.
See there! amidst the willow-boughs the serried[1] bayonets gleam,
They've flung their bridge,--they've won the isle; the foe
have cross'd the stream! 10
Their volley flashes sharp and strong,--by all the saints!
I trow
There never yet was soldier born could force that passage now! "
So spoke the bold French Mareschal[2] with him who led the van,
Whilst, rough and red before their view the turbid river ran.
Nor bridge nor boat had they to cross the wild and swollen Rhine, 15
And thundering on the other bank far stretch'd the German line.
Hard by there stood a swarthy man, was leaning on his sword,
And a sadden'd smile lit up his face as he heard the Captain's word.
"I've seen a wilder stream ere now than that which rushes there;
I've stemm'd a heavier torrent yet and never thought to dare. 20
If German steel be sharp and keen, is ours not strong and true?
There may be danger in the deed, but there is honour too. "
The old lord in his saddle turn'd, and hastily he said,
"Hath bold Duguesclin's[3] fiery heart awaken'd from the dead?
Thou art the leader of the Scots,--now well and sure I know, 25
That gentle blood in dangerous hour ne'er yet ran cold nor slow;
And I have seen ye in the fight do all that mortal may:
If honour is the boon ye seek, it may be won this day,--
The prize is in the middle isle, there lies the adventurous way,
And armies twain are on the plain, the daring deed to see,-- 30
Now ask thy gallant company if they will follow thee! "
Right gladsome look'd the Captain then, and nothing did he say,
But he turn'd him to his little band, O, few, I ween, were they!
The relics of the bravest force that ever fought in fray.
No one of all that company but bore a gentle name, 35
Not one whose fathers had not stood in Scotland's fields of fame.
All they had march'd with great Dundee[4] to where he fought and fell,
And in the deadly battle-strife had venged their leader well;
And they had bent the knee to earth when every eye was dim,
As o'er their hero's buried corpse they sang the funeral hymn; 40
And they had trod the Pass[5] once more, and stoop'd on either side.
To pluck the heather from the spot where he had dropp'd and died,
And they had bound it next their hearts, and ta'en a last farewell
Of Scottish earth and Scottish sky, where Scotland's glory fell.
Then went they forth to foreign lands like bent and broken men, 45
Who leave their dearest hope behind, and may not turn again.
"The stream," he said, "is broad and deep, and stubborn is the foe,--
Yon island-strength is guarded well,--say, brothers, will ye go?
From home and kin for many a year our steps have wander'd wide,
And never may our bones be laid our fathers' graves beside. 50
No children have we to lament, no wives to wail our fall;
The traitor's and the spoiler's hand have reft our hearths of all.
But we have hearts, and we have arms, as strong to will and dare
As when our ancient banners flew within the northern air.
Come, brothers! let me name a spell, shall rouse your souls again, 55
And send the old blood bounding free through pulse and heart and vein.
Call back the days of bygone years,--be young and strong once more;
Think yonder stream, so stark and red, is one we've cross'd before.
Rise, hill and glen! rise, crag and wood! rise up on either hand,--
Again upon the Garry's[6] banks, on Scottish soil we stand! 60
Again I see the tartans[7] wave, again the trumpets ring;
Again I hear our leader's call; 'Upon them for the King! '
Stay'd we behind that glorious day for roaring flood or linn? [8]
The soul of Graeme is with us still,--now, brothers, will ye in? "
No stay,--no pause. With one accord, they grasp'd each
other's hand, 65
Then plunged into the angry flood, that bold and dauntless band.
High flew the spray above their heads, yet onward still they bore,
Midst cheer, and shout, and answering yell, and shot, and cannon-roar,--
"Now, by the Holy Cross! I swear, since earth and sea began,
Was never such a daring deed essay'd by mortal man! " 70
Thick blew the smoke across the stream, and faster flash'd the flame:
The water plash'd in hissing jets as ball and bullet came.
Yet onward push'd the Cavaliers all stern and undismay'd,
With thousand armed foes before, and none behind to aid.
Once, as they near'd the middle stream, so strong the torrent swept, 75
That scarce that long and living wall their dangerous footing kept.
Then rose a warning cry behind, a joyous shout before:
"The current's strong,--the way is long,--they'll never reach
the shore!
See, see! they stagger in the midst, they waver in their line!
Fire on the madmen! break their ranks, and whelm them in the Rhine! " 80
Have you seen the tall trees swaying when the blast is sounding shrill,
And the whirlwind reels in fury down the gorges to the hill?
How they toss their mighty branches, struggling with the
temper's shock;
How they keep their place of vantage, cleaving firmly to the rock?
Even so the Scottish warriors held their own against the river. 85
Though the water flashed around them, not an eye was seen to quiver;
Though the shot flew sharp and deadly, not a man relax'd his hold;
For their hearts were big and thrilling with the mighty thoughts
of old.
One word was spoken among them, and through the ranks it spread,--
"Remember our dead Claverhouse! " was all the Captain said. 90
Then, sternly bending forward, they wrestled on a while,
Until they clear'd the heavy stream, then rush'd toward the isle.
The German heart is stout and true, the German arm is strong;
The German foot goes seldom back where armed foemen throng.
But never bad they faced in field so stern a charge before, 95
And never had they felt the sweep of Scotland's broad claymore. [9]
Not fiercer pours the avalanche adown the steep incline,
That rises o'er the parent springs of rough and rapid Rhine,--
Scarce swifter shoots the bolt from heaven, than came the Scottish band
Right up against the guarded trench, and o'er it, sword in hand. 100
In vain their leaders forward press,--they meet the deadly brand!
O lonely island of the Rhine,--Where seed was never sown,
What harvest lay upon thy sands, by those strong reapers thrown?
What saw the winter moon that night, as, struggling through the rain,
She pour'd a wan and fitful light on marsh, and stream, and plain? 105
A dreary spot with corpses strewn, and bayonets glistening round;
A broken bridge, a stranded boat, a bare and batter'd mound;
And one huge watch-fire's kindled pile, that sent its quivering glare
To tell the leaders of the host the conquering Scots were there.
And did they twine the laurel-wreath,[10] for those who fought
so well 110
And did they honour those who liv'd, and weep for those who fell?
What meed of thanks was given to them let aged annals tell.
Why should they bring the laurel-wreath,--why crown the cup with wine?
It was not Frenchmen's blood that flow'd so freely on the Rhine,--
A stranger band of beggar'd men had done the venturous deed; 115
The glory was to France alone, the danger was their meed,
And what cared they for idle thanks from foreign prince and peer?
What virtue had such honey'd words the exiled heart to cheer?
What matter'd it that men should vaunt, and loud and fondly swear
That higher feat of chivalry was never wrought elsewhere? 120
They bore within their breast the grief that fame can never heal,--
The deep, unutterable woe which none save exiles feel.
Their hearts were yearning for the land they ne'er might see again,--
For Scotland's high and heather'd hills, for mountains, loch and glen--
For those who haply lay at rest beyond the distant sea, 125
Beneath the green and daisied turf where they would gladly be!
Long years went by. The lonely isle in Rhine's tempestuous flood
Has ta'en another name from those who bought it with their blood:
And, though the legend does not live,--for legends lightly die--
The peasant, as he sees the stream in winter rolling by, 130
And foaming o'er its channel-bed between him and the spot
Won by the warriors of the sword, still calls that deep
and dangerous ford
The Passage of the Scot.
--_Aytoun_.
[1] serried. crowded.
[2] Mareschal. Marshal, an officer of the highest rank in the French
army.
[3] Duguesclin. A noted French commander, famous for his campaigns
against the English in the 14th century.
[4] Dundee. John Graham of Claverhouse, Viscount Dundee, a Scottish
soldier. He raised a body of Highlanders in 1689 to fight for James
II against William of Orange. At the battle of Killecrankie (1689)
he was mortally wounded.
[5] The Pass. The Pass of Killecrankie.
[6] Garry. A river in Perthshire, Scotland.
[7] tartan. A Scotch plaid
[8] linn. A waterfall.
[9] claymore. The heavy broadsword used by the Highlanders.
[10] laurel-wreath. The laurel is an evergreen shrub found in parts
of Europe. A wreath of laurel was a mark of distinction or honour.
DICKENS IN CAMP.
Above the pines the moon was slowly drifting,
The river sang below,
The dim Sierras,[1] far beyond, uplifting
Their minarets of snow.
The roaring camp-fire, with rude humor, painted 5
The ruddy tints of health
On haggard face and form that drooped and fainted
In the fierce race for wealth;
Till one arose, and from his pack's scant treasure
A hoarded volume drew, 10
And cards were dropped from hands of listless leisure,
To hear the tale anew;
And then, while round them shadows gathered faster,
And as the firelight fell,
He read aloud the book wherein the Master[2] 15
Had writ of "Little Nell. "[3]
Perhaps 'twas boyish fancy,--for the reader
Was youngest of them all,--
But, as he read, from clustering pine and cedar
A silence seemed to fall; 20
The fir-trees, gathering closer in the shadows,
Listened in every spray,
While the whole camp, with "Nell," on English meadows
Wandered and lost their way.
And so in mountain solitudes--o'ertaken 25
As by some spell divine--
Their cares dropped from them like the needles shaken
From out the gusty pine.
Lost is that camp, and wasted all its fire:
And he who wrought that spell? -- 30
Ah, towering pine and stately Kentish spire,[4]
Ye have one tale[5] to tell!
Lost is that camp! but let its fragrant story[6]
Blend with the breath that thrills
With hop-vines' incense[7] all the pensive glory 35
That fills the Kentish hills.
And on that grave where English oak and holly
And laurel wreaths intwine,[8]
Deem it not all a too presumptuous folly,--
This spray of Western pine. 40
--Harte.
[1] Sierra. A Spanish term, meaning a mountain range. The name
Sierra was applied, of course, to a great many different ranges.
[2] the Master. Dickens.
[3] Little Nell. The heroine of Dickens' novel, _The Old Curiosity
Shop_.
[4] Dickens died at Gadshill, Kent, and was buried in Westminster
Abbey.
[5] one tale. Both they who heard the story, and he who wrote it, are
dead.
[6] Let the fragrance of the western pine blend with the incense of
the hop-vines in memory of Dickens. In other words, let me add this
story as another tribute to his memory.
[7] hop-vines' incense. The smell of the hop-vines. Kent is the
chief hop-growing county of England.
[8] The great writers of England have done honour to Dickens.
A MUSICAL INSTRUMENT.
I
What was he doing, the great god Pan,[1]
Down in the reeds by the river!
Spreading ruin, and scattering ban,
Splashing and paddling with hoofs of a goat,
And breaking the golden lilies afloat 5
With the dragon-fly on the river.
II
He tore out a reed, the great god Pan,
From the deep, cool bed of the river.
The limpid water turbidly ran,
And the broken lilies a-dying lay, 10
And the dragon-fly had fled away,
Ere he brought it out of the river.
III
High on the shore sat the great god Pan,
While turbidly flowed the river,
And hacked and hewed as a great god can, 15
With his hard bleak steel, at the patient reed,
Till there was not a sign of the leaf indeed
To prove it fresh from the river.
IV
He cut it short, did the great god Pan,
(How tall it stood in the river! ) 20
Then drew the pith, like the heart of a man,
Steadily from the outside ring,
And notched the poor, dry, empty thing
In holes, as he sat by the river.
V
"This is the way," laughed the great god Pan, 25
(Laughed while he sat by the river,)
"The only way, since gods began
To make sweet music, they could succeed. "
Then, dropping his mouth to a hole in the reed,
He blew in power by the river. 30
VI
Sweet, sweet, sweet, O Pan!
Piercing sweet by the river!
Blinding sweet, O great god Pan!
The sun on the lull forgot to die,
And the lilies revived, and the dragon-fly 35
Came back to dream on the river.
VII
Yet half a beast is the great god Pan,
To laugh as he sits by the river,
Making a poet out of a man:
The true gods[2] sigh for the cost and pain,-- 40
For the reed which grows nevermore again
As a reed with the reeds in the river.
--Mrs. Browning.
[1] Pan. In Greek mythology, the god of pastures, forests and flocks.
He was represented as half-man, half-goat, in appearance. He was the
inventor of the shepherd's flute.
[2] Pan was not one of the gods of Olympus, and was literally "half a
beast. "
GRADATIM. [1]
Heaven is not reached at a single bound;
But we build the ladder by which we rise
From the lowly earth to the vaulted skies,
And we mount to the summit round by round.
I count this thing to be grandly true, 5
That a noble deed is a step toward God--
Lifting the soul from the common sod[2]
To a purer air and a broader view.
We rise by things that are under our feet;[3]
By what we have mastered of good and gain; 10
By the pride deposed and the passion slain,
And the vanquished ills that we hourly meet.
We hope, we aspire, we resolve, we trust,
When the morning calls us to life and light;
But our hearts grow weary, and ere the night, 15
Our lives are trailing the sordid[4] dust.
We hope, we resolve, we aspire, we pray,
And we think that we mount the air on wings
Beyond the recall of sensual things,
While our feet still cling to the heavy clay. 20
Wings for the angels, but feet for the men! [5]
We may borrow the wings to find the way--
We may hope, and resolve, and aspire, arid pray.
But our feet must rise, or we fall again.
Only in dreams is a ladder[6] thrown 25
From the weary earth to the sapphire walls;
But the dreams depart, and the vision falls,
And the Sleeper wakes on his pillow of stone.
Heaven is not reached at a single bound;
But we build the ladder by which we rise
From the lowly earth to the vaulted skies, 30
And we mount to the summit round by round.
--_Holland_.
[1] Gradatim. A step at a time.
[2] the common sod. earthly things.
[3] See Longfellow, _The Ladder of Saint Augustine_.
[4] sordid. mean; base.
[5] Good resolves and aspirations ("wings") are not sufficient. We can
rise only step by step by overcoming the petty difficulties of
everyday life.
[6] ladder. A reference to Jacob's ladder (Genesis xxviii, 12).
THE BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. [1]
A LAY SUNG AT THE FEAST OF CASTOR AND POLLUX,[2]
ON THE IDES OF QUINTILIS,[3]
IN THE YEAR OF THE CITY CCCCLI (B. C. 303).
[_This is the feast of Castor and Pollux, and the anniversary of the
battle of Lake Regillus, which they did so much to win. Let us
remember them, and sing their praises_. ]
I
Ho, trumpets, sound a war-note!
Ho, lictors,[4] clear the way!
The Knights[5] will ride, in all their pride,
Along the streets to-day,
To-day the doors and windows 5
Are hung with garlands all,
From Castor[6] in the forum,[7]
To Mars without the wall.
Each Knight is robed in purple,
With olive each is crowned, 10
A gallant war-horse under each
Paws haughtily the ground.
While flows the Yellow River,[8]
While stands the Sacred Hill,[9]
The proud Ides of Quintilis, 15
Shall have such honour still.
Gay are the Martian Kalends:[10]
December's Nones[11] are gay:
But the proud Ides, when the squadron rides,
Shall be Rome's whitest[12] day. 20
II
Unto the Great Twin Brethren
We keep this solemn feast.
Swift, swift, the Great Twin Brethren
Came spurring from the east.
They came o'er wild Parthenius[13] 25
Tossing in waves of pine,
O'er Cirrha's dome,[14] o'er Adria's[15] foam,
O'er purple Apennine,
From where with flutes and dances
Their ancient mansion rings, 30
In lordly Lacedaemon,[16]
The city of two kings,
To where, by Lake Regillus,
Under the Porcian[17] height,
All in the lands of Tusculum, 35
Was fought the glorious fight.
III
Now on the place of slaughter
Are cots and sheepfolds seen,
And rows of vines, and fields of wheat,
And apple-orchards green; 40
And swine crush the big acorns
That fall from Corne's[18] oaks.
Upon the turf by the Fair Fount[19]
The reaper's pottage smokes.
The fisher baits his angle; 45
The hunter twangs his bow;
Little they think on those strong limbs
That moulder deep below.
Little they think how sternly
That day the trumpets pealed; 50
How in the slippery swamp of blood
Warrior and war-horse reeled;
How wolves came with fierce gallop,
And crows on eager wings,
To tear the flesh of captains, 55
And peck the eyes of kings;
How thick the dead lay scattered
Under the Porcian height:
How through the gates of Tusculum
Raved the wild stream of night; 60
And how the Lake Regillus
Bubbled with crimson foam,
What time the Thirty Cities[20]
Came forth to war with Rome.
IV
But, Roman, when thou standest 65
Upon that holy ground,
Look thou with heed on the dark rock.
That girds the dark lake round,
So shall thou see a hoof-mark[21]
Stamped deep into the flint: 70
It was no hoof of mortal steed
That made so strange a dint;
There to the Great Twin Brethren
Vow thou thy vows, and pray
That they, in tempest and in fight, 75
Will keep thy head alway.
[_The Latins send a message calling on the Romans to restore the
Tarquins.
