5 Rome shouted, and e'en Tuscany could scarce forbear to cheer. But fiercely ran the current, swollen high by months of rain: And fast his blood was flowing; and he was sore in And heavy with his armor, and spent with changing blows: And oft they thought him sinking — but still again he rose. Never, I ween, did swimmer, in such an evil case, Struggle through such a raging flood safe to the landing place: But his limbs were borne up bravely by the brave heart within, And our good Father Tiber bare bravely up his chin. "Curse on him!" quoth false Sextus; "will not the 10 villain drown? But for his stay, ere close of day we should have sacked the town!" "Heaven help him!" quoth Lars Porsena, "and bring him safe to shore; For such a gallant feat of arms was never seen before." And now he feels the bottom; - now on dry earth he stands; HORATIUS AT THE BRIDGE 47 Now round him throng the fathers to press his gory hands. And now, with shouts and clapping, and noise of weeping loud, He enters through the river gate, borne by the joyous crowd. 49 EARLY SPRING The woods with living airs Light airs from where the deep, Is breathing in his sleep, Heard by the land. O follow, leaping blood, The season's lure! O heart, look down and up Warm as the crocus cup, Past, Future, glimpse and fade And sympathies, how frail, Till at thy chuckled note, Ring little bells of change For now the Heavenly Power And thaws the cold, and fills The blackbirds have their wills, 5 10 15 20 The Bugle Song The splendor falls on castle walls And the wild cataract leaps in glory. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. O hark, O hear! how thin and clear, The horns of Elfland faintly blowing! O love, they die in yon rich sky, They faint on hill or field or river : Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow forever and forever. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, |