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Who first shall round the city draw
The limitary lines of law,
Called forth from Cures' petty town
To bear the burden of a crown.
Then he whose voice shall break the rest
That lulled to sleep a nation's breast,
And sound in languid ears the cry
Of Tullus and of victory.
Then Ancus, all too fain to sail
E'en now before a favouring gale.
Say, shall I show you face to face
The monarchs of Tarquinian race,
And vengeful Brutus, proud to wring
The people's fasces from a king?
He first in consul's pomp shall lift
The axe and rods, the freeman's gift,
And call his own rebellious seed
For menaced liberty to bleed.
Unhappy father! howsoe'er
The deed be judged by after days,
His country's love shall all o'erbear,
And unextinguished thirst of praise.
There move the Decii, Drusus here,
Torquatus too with axe severe,
And great Camillus: mark him show
Rome's standards rescued from the foe!
But those who side by side you see
In equal armour bright,
Now twined in bonds of amity
While yet they dwell in night,
Alas! how terrible their strife,
If e'er they win their way to life,
How fierce the shock of war,
This kinsman rushing to the fight
From castellated Alpine height,