Poems | ||
Strophe 1.
Hark! rolling through the streets afar,Comes the clattering of the car!
Oh Juno, Juno hear!
Heavily creaking o'er the stones,
How the loaded axle groans!
Be thou, Diana, near!
The air is maddened with the sound
Of showers of spears that ring around!
What will be our city's fate!
What doom doth its defenders wait!
What dread result will soon be given
By the ruling powers of Heaven!
Poems | ||