But all Etruria's noblest Where those bold Romans stood, Was none who would be foremost But those behind cried " Forward! And those before cried " Back! But meanwhile axe and lever Have manfully been plied; 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, 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 And, like a dam, the mighty wreck 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, 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. 66 Now yield thee," cried Lars Porsera "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, So he spake, and speaking sheathed No sound of joy or sorrow Was heard from either bank; But friends and foes in dumb surprise, With parting 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, And heavy with his armour, 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 Bare bravely up his chin. "Curse on him!" quoth false Sextus; "Will not the villain drown? But for this stay, ere close of day And bring him safe to shore, For such a gallant feat of arms And now he feels the bottom; And now with shouts and clapping, They gave him of the corn-land, As much as two strong oxen Could plough from morn till night; |