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 | The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere |  |
Who is Alaric?
One swift in love—in hate! Freely he proffered
To join his warriors with the Roman force,
And to the Roman realm revindicate
Gaul and Iberia lost. That task achieved
His people were to hold, secure from wrong,
Some space unpeopled in the Western Empire
Thenceforth its friends. No secret pact was this.
When Stilicho discoursed with me thereon
Honorius titular Emperor of the West,
Praised it, loud-voiced. The youth had late espoused
The Regent's daughter, that domestic tie
Designed by Theodosius. Secret league!
Stilicho loved no secrets. He himself
Deliberately divulged it to the Senate:
Some loud ones in that Senate stormed and raved.
Placid as power no petulance can shake
Stilicho rose: at once the tumult ceased:
He might have said; ‘For centuries, Senators,
Phantoms were ye gibbering in cave and crypt,’
(Methinks I see among you such this hour)
‘'Twas I restored to Rome her buried Senate.
This day I give her more; I give her men.’
Not thus he spake: he forced the facts upon them,
The West o'errun; Rome powerless to redeem it;
The Race Barbaric taught at last their worth;
Ye, Romans, signed that league.
One swift in love—in hate! Freely he proffered
To join his warriors with the Roman force,
And to the Roman realm revindicate
Gaul and Iberia lost. That task achieved
His people were to hold, secure from wrong,
Some space unpeopled in the Western Empire
Thenceforth its friends. No secret pact was this.
When Stilicho discoursed with me thereon
Honorius titular Emperor of the West,
Praised it, loud-voiced. The youth had late espoused
The Regent's daughter, that domestic tie
195
Stilicho loved no secrets. He himself
Deliberately divulged it to the Senate:
Some loud ones in that Senate stormed and raved.
Placid as power no petulance can shake
Stilicho rose: at once the tumult ceased:
He might have said; ‘For centuries, Senators,
Phantoms were ye gibbering in cave and crypt,’
(Methinks I see among you such this hour)
‘'Twas I restored to Rome her buried Senate.
This day I give her more; I give her men.’
Not thus he spake: he forced the facts upon them,
The West o'errun; Rome powerless to redeem it;
The Race Barbaric taught at last their worth;
Ye, Romans, signed that league.
| The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | |