 | The poetical works of William H. C. Hosmer |  |
116
THE FALL OF AQUILEIA.
[“When Attila invaded Italy, he received a severe check before the walls of Aquileia. After repeated failures to storm the place, he rode round the walls, and observing a stork take wing, he exclaimed:—‘A creature fond of human haunts would not abandon these walls if they were not doomed to a speedy overthrow.’ He renewed the attack with redoubled energy, and a breach being made near the stork's nest, the barbarians rushed in and hurned the town, having previously butchered the inhabitants.”]—
Gibbon.
Broad meadows of the Danube
Sent forth a Hunnish horde
To reap in groaning Italy
Red harvest with the sword;
But howls of rage from front to rear
Convulsed the dark array,
When Aquileia reared her walls
That fearful march to stay.
Sent forth a Hunnish horde
To reap in groaning Italy
Red harvest with the sword;
But howls of rage from front to rear
Convulsed the dark array,
When Aquileia reared her walls
That fearful march to stay.
Close to the town their leader spurred
With monarchs in his train,
While darts from tower and battlement
Fell round his head like rain—
“Weak, trembling cowards of the south,
Unbar these gates,” he cried,
“Or over your dismembered forms
My cavalry shall ride.”
With monarchs in his train,
While darts from tower and battlement
Fell round his head like rain—
“Weak, trembling cowards of the south,
Unbar these gates,” he cried,
“Or over your dismembered forms
My cavalry shall ride.”
The brave, devoted garrison
Sent back these taunting words:—
“The corpses of you swarthy crew
Shall feed our carrion birds!”
The broad square frame of Attila
Grew tremulous with ire,
And glanced within its socket deep
His rolling eye like fire.
Sent back these taunting words:—
“The corpses of you swarthy crew
Shall feed our carrion birds!”
The broad square frame of Attila
Grew tremulous with ire,
And glanced within its socket deep
His rolling eye like fire.
117
The fierce beleaguerers advanced
In vain to storm the town,
By showers of hissing javelins
Arrested and struck down.
The flourish of barbaric horns,
The neigh of wounded steeds
Were mingled with the groans of men,
Ambition's broken reeds.
In vain to storm the town,
By showers of hissing javelins
Arrested and struck down.
The flourish of barbaric horns,
The neigh of wounded steeds
Were mingled with the groans of men,
Ambition's broken reeds.
Night came:—and to their camp retired
The squadrons of the Hun;
No breach within the rampart made—
The citadel unwon:
Invincible they deemed no more
The chosen scourge of God,
Though many a tribe of earth had bowed
Beneath his iron rod.
The squadrons of the Hun;
No breach within the rampart made—
The citadel unwon:
Invincible they deemed no more
The chosen scourge of God,
Though many a tribe of earth had bowed
Beneath his iron rod.
When morning dawned, the mighty king
Round Aquileia rode,
And marked with joy an aged stork
Abandon its abode:
“Old dweller amid human haunts,
Thou leavest yonder wall,
By instinct taught that dome and tower
Are doomed this day to fall.”
Round Aquileia rode,
And marked with joy an aged stork
Abandon its abode:
“Old dweller amid human haunts,
Thou leavest yonder wall,
By instinct taught that dome and tower
Are doomed this day to fall.”
The signal of assault he gave,
And thundered in the van,
While tidings of an omen fair
Were borne from man to man;
Against that portion of the work
The living torrent prest,
Where Attila beheld the stork
Forsake its ancient nest.
And thundered in the van,
While tidings of an omen fair
Were borne from man to man;
Against that portion of the work
The living torrent prest,
Where Attila beheld the stork
Forsake its ancient nest.
The crumbling masonry gave way,
A fissure opened wide,
While yells arose that would have drowned
The roar of Ocean's tide.
Dark clouds of Hunnish horse rushed in
To glut themselves with blood
And not a roof was left to tell
Where Aquileia stood.
A fissure opened wide,
118
The roar of Ocean's tide.
Dark clouds of Hunnish horse rushed in
To glut themselves with blood
And not a roof was left to tell
Where Aquileia stood.
That citadel, the human heart,
Must look to its defence;
For woe betide it, if the Bird
Of Hope takes flight from thence.
Dread tenant of the ruin wild,
Remorse will vainly moan,
A constant mourner for the shrine
Of beauty overthrown.
Must look to its defence;
For woe betide it, if the Bird
Of Hope takes flight from thence.
Dread tenant of the ruin wild,
Remorse will vainly moan,
A constant mourner for the shrine
Of beauty overthrown.
For some dread augury without
The powers of darkness wait,
That they may enter in, and leave
Its chambers desolate.
Let Truth be watchman on the wall,
And Love abide within,
And, weary of assault, will fly
The baffled host of sin.
The powers of darkness wait,
That they may enter in, and leave
Its chambers desolate.
Let Truth be watchman on the wall,
And Love abide within,
And, weary of assault, will fly
The baffled host of sin.
| The poetical works of William H. C. Hosmer | |