Lays and Legends or Ballads of the New World By G. W. Thornbury |
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DECIUS. |
 | Lays and Legends or Ballads of the New World |  |
127
DECIUS.
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[In the great battle between the Romans and the Latins, b.c. 339, the omens being unfavourable to his country, the consul, Decius, determined to devote himself to death, to save the armies of the seven-hilled city. “Putting on his white robe,” says Livy, “he covered his head, and, placing his foot on the blade of a javelin, repeated a prayer to the nine gods.” Then, mounting a charger, this lion-heart hewed himself a grave in the squadrons of the foes that strove to overpower the infant Hercules.]
Beneath Great Vesta's mountain
There's sound of battle clang,
Far o'er the distant ocean
The brazen clangour rang.
There's sound of battle clang,
Far o'er the distant ocean
The brazen clangour rang.
The flame of the lava torrent
Shines upon helm and blade;
On broad spear head, and banner,
And men for death arrayed.
Shines upon helm and blade;
On broad spear head, and banner,
And men for death arrayed.
Through the black tempest vapour,
In the troubled sky above,
The flame, as it strove in passion,
Glared like the eye of Jove.
In the troubled sky above,
The flame, as it strove in passion,
Glared like the eye of Jove.
In vain, the Roman squadrons
Cleave the proud Samnite's shield;
In vain, their serried phalanx
Drives o'er the trampled field.
Cleave the proud Samnite's shield;
In vain, their serried phalanx
Drives o'er the trampled field.
In vain, the Roman pilum
The rebel Latin smites;
To save the sacred capitol,
In vain the consul fights.
The rebel Latin smites;
To save the sacred capitol,
In vain the consul fights.
Still o'er the warring nations
The volcan casts a glow;
Red as the waves of Phlegethon,
In the dark realms below.
The volcan casts a glow;
Red as the waves of Phlegethon,
In the dark realms below.
128
Its fiery tongues shoot flaming,
Red as Jove's arrowy leven,
Seeming to strive to reach the sun,
And blot it from the heaven.
Red as Jove's arrowy leven,
Seeming to strive to reach the sun,
And blot it from the heaven.
Mars smiles not on his banner,
Amid the weapon's jar;
On unbroke ranks the grim god's wolf
Shines like a silver star.
Amid the weapon's jar;
On unbroke ranks the grim god's wolf
Shines like a silver star.
“Would he that smote the Volsci
Could break their bristling rank;
Would their black steeds were plunging
In Pontus' marshes dank.
Could break their bristling rank;
Would their black steeds were plunging
In Pontus' marshes dank.
“There's vengeance in the heaven,
'Twas shuddered at in hell,
When, in the pride of conquest,
Titus, the hero, fell.”
'Twas shuddered at in hell,
When, in the pride of conquest,
Titus, the hero, fell.”
“Peace, cowards!” cried the consul;
“I swear by the gods above,
No victim ever offered,
So pleased the mighty Jove.
“I swear by the gods above,
No victim ever offered,
So pleased the mighty Jove.
“Think of the Seven hill'd City—
On, with thy betters, on;
We'll drive them in the ocean
Before the setting sun.”
On, with thy betters, on;
We'll drive them in the ocean
Before the setting sun.”
“Up! up! ye warriors—kneeling,
Poor beggars! for a life”—
Cry the sneering Latin spearmen,
As nearer swells the strife.”
Poor beggars! for a life”—
Cry the sneering Latin spearmen,
As nearer swells the strife.”
“We bend but to the Thunderer—
We heed no jeers from thee;
We bend to the God of the Trident,
Who ruleth yonder sea.”
We heed no jeers from thee;
We bend to the God of the Trident,
Who ruleth yonder sea.”
129
In vain, against the Latin,
They hurry firm and fast;
As vain as on yon mountain
Beats ever the sea blast.
They hurry firm and fast;
As vain as on yon mountain
Beats ever the sea blast.
“To the gods, the hell-born Manes,
I vow this hoary head—
Come, Pontifex!” he shouted—
“Prepare me for the dead.”
I vow this hoary head—
Come, Pontifex!” he shouted—
“Prepare me for the dead.”
The white robe, bound with purple,
He wrapped him around,
Then veiled his old and scarred brow,
And leapt upon the ground.
He wrapped him around,
Then veiled his old and scarred brow,
And leapt upon the ground.
With bare feet, on a pilum,
He stood awhile in prayer,
And looked on the foe with a glance of fire,
And a wild and fixed stare.
He stood awhile in prayer,
And looked on the foe with a glance of fire,
And a wild and fixed stare.
“O ye nine gods of Hades!
That rule in hell below,
Prosper the Roman armies,
And blast this vaunting foe.
That rule in hell below,
Prosper the Roman armies,
And blast this vaunting foe.
“Hear me, thou burning mountain!
Dark prison of the slave!
Grant that red throngs of foemen
May 'tend me to the grave.
Dark prison of the slave!
Grant that red throngs of foemen
May 'tend me to the grave.
“Hear me, great Sun! whose parting ray
Warms my pale, aged cheek:
Great Jove! great Jove! thou crowned one!
Speak to thy servant—speak!”
Warms my pale, aged cheek:
Great Jove! great Jove! thou crowned one!
Speak to thy servant—speak!”
With a roar, the burning mountain
Poured up a jet of fire,
The consul bowed his hoary head,
And hailed great Heaven's sire.
Poured up a jet of fire,
The consul bowed his hoary head,
And hailed great Heaven's sire.
130
“Go tell my brother consul
How an aged warrior died—
That he went, like a youthful bridegroom,
To meet a happy bride—
How an aged warrior died—
That he went, like a youthful bridegroom,
To meet a happy bride—
“Crowned with the wreaths of glory
I won in the days of yore,
Clad with a priest's white vestments,
Soon to be red with gore.”
I won in the days of yore,
Clad with a priest's white vestments,
Soon to be red with gore.”
Then girding tight his blanched robes,
One look at the coming night,
He dashed on his sable charger
Into the thickest fight.
One look at the coming night,
He dashed on his sable charger
Into the thickest fight.
Like the waves upon a diver,
The dark ranks closed him in;
They see his white robes waving
Amid the battle din.
The dark ranks closed him in;
They see his white robes waving
Amid the battle din.
Like a sea-bird's snowy pinion,
Fluttering against a cloud,
When the rain-winds cover the darkened earth
With vapours like a shroud.
Fluttering against a cloud,
When the rain-winds cover the darkened earth
With vapours like a shroud.
While still the sun was setting
Up in the crimson skies,
The shouts of joy and triumph
From Roman warriors rise.
Up in the crimson skies,
The shouts of joy and triumph
From Roman warriors rise.
| Lays and Legends or Ballads of the New World | |