XXXVII. Sempronius Atratinus Sate in the eastern gate, Who keep the Golden shield; Was no such Pontiff found; To listen for the rushing Of horse-hoofs from the east. The mist of eve was rising, The sun was hastening down, When he was aware of a princely pair Fast pricking towards the town. THE BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. So like they were, men never Saw twins so like before; XXXVIII. "Hail to the great asylum! Hail to the hill-tops seven! Hail to the fire that burns for aye, And the shield that fell from heaven! This day by Lake Regillus Under the Porcian height, All in the lands of Tusculum, Was fought a glorious fight. To-morrow your Dictator Shall bring in triumph home The spoils of thirty cities, To deck the shrines of Rome !" XXXIX. Then burst from that great concourse But on rode these strange horsemen, With slow and lordly pace; And none who saw their bearing Durst ask their name or race. On rode they to the Forum, While laurel-boughs and flowers, 291 From house-tops and from windows, Fell on their crests in showers; MACAULAY. THE END. You do look, my son, in a movèd sort, SHAKSPEARE. PRINTED BY COX (BROS.) AND WYMAN, GREAT QUEEN STREET. |