 | The defence of Rome |  |
IX.
But now when the heights were lost, and the hosts with the end of day
Had rest from the noise of the onset, the shattering shock of the fray,
Then knew the defenders of Rome that theirs was a desperate strife,
And deadly the blow that was dealt at their young republic's life.
Yet now in the hour of her trial the city's manifold soul
By the stress of her fierce tribulation was knit to a lordlier whole,
To a commonwealth nobler and purer than Fabius or Regulus saw,
With the hopes of the Earth in her flag and the breath of love in her law.
As of old time the Titan beloved, who braved the omnipotent's ire,
And gave men wisdom and hope and the sacred seed of the fire,
Nailed down at the limit of earth, unterrified on to the end,
For his word would not turn for the torment, his high soul falter or bend,
Tho' the sea and the heaven mingled, and reeled at the shattering shock,
Tho' the firm ground shrank at the lightning and yawned for the riven rock
Hellward hurled with its burden, the Titan triumphant in pain—
So endured that anguish the Romans, and still would they gird them again
To follow the leaders they loved, and bravely by day and by night
Bare up thro' the crash of the cannon, the travail and strain of the fight.
And they who had otherwhere fought, with a great exultation came
To do battle once more for a cause that in all lands still was the same:
And thro' them whose fight was their first the thrill of a new joy ran,
The austere sweet joy of the combat, whose home is the blood of a man:
But an ardour diviner far was blent with that fire of the blood,
As the flame of the lightning celestial on flaming trees of a wood.
And the women of Rome, the heroic, the mothers and maidens and wives,
Still sent forth their dearest to battle, and recked not their desolate lives,
Still tended the mangled limbs and lifted the swooning head,
Still solaced the thirst and the anguish, and silently wept for the dead.
Had rest from the noise of the onset, the shattering shock of the fray,
Then knew the defenders of Rome that theirs was a desperate strife,
And deadly the blow that was dealt at their young republic's life.
Yet now in the hour of her trial the city's manifold soul
By the stress of her fierce tribulation was knit to a lordlier whole,
39
With the hopes of the Earth in her flag and the breath of love in her law.
As of old time the Titan beloved, who braved the omnipotent's ire,
And gave men wisdom and hope and the sacred seed of the fire,
Nailed down at the limit of earth, unterrified on to the end,
For his word would not turn for the torment, his high soul falter or bend,
Tho' the sea and the heaven mingled, and reeled at the shattering shock,
Tho' the firm ground shrank at the lightning and yawned for the riven rock
Hellward hurled with its burden, the Titan triumphant in pain—
So endured that anguish the Romans, and still would they gird them again
40
Bare up thro' the crash of the cannon, the travail and strain of the fight.
And they who had otherwhere fought, with a great exultation came
To do battle once more for a cause that in all lands still was the same:
And thro' them whose fight was their first the thrill of a new joy ran,
The austere sweet joy of the combat, whose home is the blood of a man:
But an ardour diviner far was blent with that fire of the blood,
As the flame of the lightning celestial on flaming trees of a wood.
And the women of Rome, the heroic, the mothers and maidens and wives,
Still sent forth their dearest to battle, and recked not their desolate lives,
41
Still solaced the thirst and the anguish, and silently wept for the dead.
All that month they endured, and fiercer and fiercer the sun
Smote down on their dwindling numbers with pain and with toil fordone;
And the shells screamed shrill thro' the air and slaying the weak with the strong,
Slaying the babe in the cradle asleep to his mother's song,
Slaying the mother beside him and blasting the poor man's home,
Nor sparing the shrine and the column, memorial marvels of Rome:
Till at last in the final night, when the fires of God from on high
Blazed brighter than fires of the sulphur, and terribly out of the sky
Thro' the shrouding gloom of the midnight, more dark for the storm-cloud's fold,
Louder yet than the cannon, the peal of the thunder rolled,
Then Rome struck her fiercest and last: in vain, for with dawning day,
As a warrior slain of his wounds, forspent to her utmost she lay.
Smote down on their dwindling numbers with pain and with toil fordone;
And the shells screamed shrill thro' the air and slaying the weak with the strong,
Slaying the babe in the cradle asleep to his mother's song,
Slaying the mother beside him and blasting the poor man's home,
Nor sparing the shrine and the column, memorial marvels of Rome:
Till at last in the final night, when the fires of God from on high
Blazed brighter than fires of the sulphur, and terribly out of the sky
42
Louder yet than the cannon, the peal of the thunder rolled,
Then Rome struck her fiercest and last: in vain, for with dawning day,
As a warrior slain of his wounds, forspent to her utmost she lay.
| The defence of Rome | |