The want that keep their silence, till from Thee Thou dost hide These in Thy bosom, and not these alone, Thou madest us for Thine; Lead Thou us forth upon Thy Mount, and show Show us Thy countenance, and we are WHOLE ! And out spake strong Herminius, Of Titian blood was he: "I will abide on thy left side, And keep the bridge with thee." "Horatius," quoth the Consul, "As thou sayest, so let it be." Spared neither land nor gold, Now, while the Three were tightening Meanwhile the Tuscan army, Right glorious to behold, Came flashing back the noonday light, Four hundred trumpets sounded A peal of warlike glee, As that great host, with measured tread, And spears advanced, and ensigns spread, Rolled slowly towards the bridge's head, Where stood the dauntless Three. The Three stood calm and silent, From all the vanguard rose: And forth three chiefs came spurring To earth they sprang, their swords they drew But all Etruria's noblest Felt their hearts sink to see Where those bold Romans stood, Was none who would be foremost And on the tossing sea of steel, Yet one man for one moment Strode out before the crowd; Well known was he to all the Three, And they gave him greeting loud. 6 Now welcome, welcome, Sextus! Now welcome to thy home! Why dost thou stay, and turn away? Thrice looked he on the city; Thrice looked he on 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, But meanwhile axe and lever And now the bridge hangs tottering Come back, come back, Horatius!" Back darted Spurius Lartius; And, as they passed, beneath their feet 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 As to the highest turret-tops And like a horse unbroken When first he feels the rein, And whirling down, in fierce career, 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 The white porch of his home; And he spake to the noble river "Oh, Tiber! father Tiber! To whom the Romans pray, A Roman's life, a Roman's arms, 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, 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 armour, And spent with changing blows: And oft they thought him sinking, Never, I ween, did swimmer, |