air; And fiends in upper Oh, life and death were in the shout, Recoil and rally, charge and rout, And triumph and despair. (2.) THE DEATH OF MARMION. When, doff'd his casque, he felt free air, , To Dacre bare my signet-ring; Tell him his squadrons up to bring : Tunstall lies dead upon the field, Leave Marmion here alone-to die.” And-Stanley! was the cry;- And fired his glazing eye: And shouted “Victory ! - (3.) THE LOSS OF THE BATTLE. The English shafts in volleys hail'd, That fought around their King. Unbroken was the ring ; The instant that they fell. As fearlessly and well; And from the charge they drew Sweep back to ocean blue. Then did their loss his foemen know; Dissolves in silent dew. While many a broken band, To gain the Scottish land; MACAULAY. (1.) HORATIUS OFFERS TO DEFEND THE BRIDGE. Then outspake brave Horatius, The captain of the gate : Death cometh soon or late. Than facing fearful odds And the temples of his gods. “Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul, With all the speed ye may: Will hold the foe in play. In yon strait path a thousand May well be stopp'd by three; And keep the bridge with me?” Then outspake Spurius Lartius A Ramnian proud was he“Lo, I will stand at thy right hand, And keep the bridge with thee." Of Titian blood was he- And keep the bridge with thee." “Horatius," quoth the Consul, “As thou say’st, so let it be;" And straight against that great array Forth went the dauntless three. Spared neither land nor gold, In the brave days of old. (2.) THE FALL OF THE BRIDGE. But meanwhile axe and lever Have manfully been plied ; Above the boiling tide. “Come back, come back, Horatius 1" Loud cried the Fathers all. “Back, Lartius! back, Herminius! Back, ere the ruin fall !” Back darted Spurius Lartius; Herminius darted back : And, as they pass’d, beneath their feet They felt the timbers crack; But when they turn'd their faces, · And on the farther shore Saw brave Horatius stand alone, They would have cross'd once more. But with a crash like thunder loosen'd beam, Lay right athwart the stream: And a long shout of triumph Rose from the walls of Rome, As to the highest turret-tops Was splash'd the yellow foam. And, like a horse unbroken When first he feels the rein, The furious river struggled hard, And toss'd his tawny mane ; Rejoicing to be free; Rush'd headlong to the sea. |