53

But meanwhile axe and lever

Have manfully been plied;

445 And now the bridge hangs tottering Above the boiling tide.

450

"Come back, come back, Horatius!" Loud cried the Fathers all. "Back, Lartius! back, Herminius! Back, ere the ruin fall!"

54

Back darted Spurius Lartius;
Herminius darted back:

And, as they passed, beneath their feet
They felt the timbers crack.
455 But when they turned their faces,
And on the farther shore

460

Saw brave Horatius stand alone,
They would have crossed once more.

55

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,

406 As to the highest turret-tops
Was splashed the yellow foam.

56

And, like a horse unbroken

When first he feels the rein,

470

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,
475 Rushed headlong to the sea.

57

Alone stood brave Horatius,
But constant still in mind;
Thrice thirty thousand foes before,
And the broad flood behind.
480"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."

485

58

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

The white porch of his home;

400 And he spake to the noble river
That rolls by the towers of Rome.

59

"O Tiber! father Tiber!

To whom the Romans pray,

A Roman's life, a Roman's arms,

488. Mons Palatinus survives in the Palatine Hill of moder

Rome.

495

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.

60

600 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;

505 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.

61

510 But fiercely ran the current,

$15

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.

62

Never, I ween, did swimmer,

In such an evil case,

520 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.

63

"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!"
530"Heaven help him!" quoth Lars Porsena,
"And bring him safe to shore ;
For such a gallant feat of arms
Was never seen before."

64

535

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,

$40 He enters through the River-Gate,
Borne by the joyous crowd.

65

They gave him of the corn-land,
That was of public right,

525. Macaulay notes as passages in English literature which he had in mind when he wrote this :

545

As much as two strong oxen

Could plough 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.

66

550 It stands in the Comitium,
Plain for all folk to see;
Horatius in his harness,
Halting upon one knee:
And underneath is written,

$55

In letters all of gold,

How valiantly he kept the bridge

In the brave days of old.

67

And still his name sounds stirring
Unto the men of Rome,

$60 As the trumpet-blast that cries to them
To charge the Volscian home;
And wives still pray to Juno
For boys with hearts as bold
As his who kept the bridge so well
In the brave days of old,

585

68

And in the nights of winter,

When the cold north-winds blow,

And the long howling of the wolves
Is heard amidst the snow;

550. The Comitium was that part of the Forum which served as the meeting-place of the Roman patricians.