Classic Poem

THE HEROES OF ROME .

" Come, now, let me unfold in words what glory the future
Holds for the Dardan race, what descendants in Italy wait thee,
Souls of illustrious heroes predestined thy name to inherit;
Listen, and I will reveal thy fate and the fate of thy people.
Seest thou yonder youth, who leans on an ironless spearshaft?
Fate hath assigned him the earliest place in the light; he shall soonest
Rise to the air above, old Troy with new Italy blending, —
Silvius, Alban the name, the latest born of thy children,
Whom in the years of thine age a Lavinian wife shall have borne thee;
Child of the forest he, a king, with kings for descendants,
Whence o'er the long white city our line shall inherit dominion.
Next after him is that Procas, the pride of the Ilian nation,
Capys, and Numitor, too, and, reviving thy name and thy glory,
Silvius, surnamed Æneas, as famous for faith as for fighting,
If he shall ever attain his rightful dominion in Alba.
Ah! what youths they are! behold, what a vision of valour!
Proudly they lift their brows with civic oak overshadowed!
These shall establish Nomentum, Fidena, and Gabii, for thee;
Those shall set on the hills the crown of Collatia's castles;
Castrum Inui, too, Pometia, Bola, and Cora;
Lands that are now unnamed shall bear these names in the future.
Ay! and the son of Mars shall forever be named with his grandsire;
Romulus, he who shall call Assaracan Ilia mother:
Seest thou how twin plumes stand forth as a crest from his helmet?
How the great Father hath set his own seal of divinity on him?
Lo, my son, thine illustrious Rome shall, under his sceptre,
Measure her empire with earth, and measure her valour with Heaven!
She, for herself and alone, seven hills shall surround with her ramparts,
Blest in her brood of men: as the Berecynthian mother,
Crowned with her turrets, is borne in her car through Phrygian cities,
Glad in the birth of gods, and embracing an hundred descendants,
Habitants all of the sky, all dwelling on lofty Olympus.
Hitherward, now, concentre thy gaze; look forth on this nation;
These, thy Romans, behold! Lo, Caesar and all the Iülian
Line, predestined to rise to the infinite spaces of heaven.
This, yea, this is the man, so often foretold thee in promise,
Caesar Augustus, descended from God, who again shall a golden
Age in Latium found, in fields once governed by Saturn.
Further than India's hordes, or the Garymantian peoples,
He shall extend his reign; there's a land beyond all of our planets,
'Yond the far track of the year and the sun, where sky-bearing Atlas
Turns on his shoulders the firmament studded with bright constellations;
Yea, even now, at his coming foreshadowed by omens from Heaven,
Shudder the Caspian realms, and the barbarous Scythian kingdoms,
While the disquieted harbours of sevenfold Nile are affrighted!
Verily, neither Alcides e'er traversed so much of this planet,
Though he hath slaughtered the brazen-hoofed stag, and secured Erymanthus
Peace in his forest glades, though his bow hath made Lerna to tremble;
Nor, who triumphantly guideth his coursers with vine-wreathed bridle,
Bacchus, down-driving his tigers from Nysa's precipitous mountains.
And do we hesitate still to broaden our prestige by valour?
Or shall we yield to fear, and withdraw from Ausonia's borders!
Ah, but who yonder is he, distinguished by branches of olive,
Sacred insignia bearing? The locks and gray beard of the Roman
King I recognize there, who first shall establish a city
Founded in law; he shall rise from the poor, narrow acres of Cumae
Unto an empire vast. Then quickly shall come to succeed him
Tullus, predestined to break the repose of his country, and rally
Slumbering heroes, and troops unacquainted with conquest, to battle.
Next after him, behold vainglorious Ancus advancing,
Already, even now, too dependent on popular favour.
Seest thou, too, the Tarquinian kings, and the proud Roman spirit
Breathing in Brutus, th' avenger? behold ye the fasces recovered?
Consular power he first shall assume, and the terrible axes;
And, in fair Liberty's name, this father shall sentence his children
Unto the pains of death for conspiring against the Republic.
Ill-fated hero! However his deeds may be judged in the future,
Love for his country and boundless ambition for glory shall conquer!
Nay, but the Decii see, and the Drusi beyond, and Torquatus,
Pitiless with his axe, and Camillus restoring the standards.
Those, however, whose arms thou seest are equal in splendour,
Spirits harmonious now, and as long as the darkness constrains them,
How great a war, alas, shall they wage with each other, if ever
They shall attain to the light of life; what battle, what carnage!
Down from the Alpine heights and the walls of Monaeeus, the father
Rushes to meet the son arrayed with Eastern battalions.
Suffer ye not, my lads, your souls to grow used to such conflicts;
Turn not your stalwart might against the life of your country!
And do thou first forbear, who tracest thy line to Olympus.
Fling from thy hand the spear, thou blood of my blood!
That one, renowned for the Greeks he hath slain, shall drive his triumphant
Car to the Capitol's height, when the city of Corinth is conquered;
That one shall Argos destroy, and Agamemnon's Mycenae,
Capturing Perseus himself, the descendant of warlike Achilles,
Venging the sires of Troy, and the shrine of dishonoured Minerva.
Who can great Cato forget, or pass thee, O Cossus, in silence?
Who the two Gracchi, or Scipios twain, twin lightnings of battle,
Libya's scourge, or Fabricius, poverty crowning with honour?
Or who would name thee not, as thou sowest thy furrow, Serranus?
Whither, ye Fabii, bear ye the wearied? That Maximus art thou
Who dost alone reistablish our prestige in war by delaying.
Others may fashion the breathing bronze with more delicate fingers;
Doubtless they also will summon more lifelike features from marble;
They shall more cunningly plead at the bar; and the mazes of heaven
Draw to the scale, and determine the march of the swift constellations;
Thine be the care, O Rome, to subdue the whole world to thine empire;
These be the arts for thee, the order of peace to establish,
Them that are vanquished to spare, and them that are haughty to humble! "
Thus spake Father Anchises, and thus, as they marvel, continued: —
" See how Marcellus advances, adorned with rich trophies of conquest!
How as a victor he comes, surpassing all heroes in glory!
Knightly defender of Rome, he shall save her from deadliest peril,
Crushing the armies of Carthage, and quelling the Gallic rebellion,
Offering trophies thrice in the temple of Father Quirinus. "
Then did Æneas exclaim, — for he saw, by the side of Marcellus,
Wondrous in beauty, a youth, arrayed in glittering armour,
Yet with joyless brow, sad eyes, and sorrowful features: —
" Who, my father, is he, who follows yon hero so closely?
Is he his son, or one of his glorious line of descendants?
Round him what comrades are surging! Himself, how inspiring a presence!
Yet is dark night brooding over his head with the shadow of sorrow. "
Then, with a burst of tears, doth Father Anchises make answer: —
" Ah! seek not, my son, to learn the deep grief of thy people;
Fate shall vouchsafe to the world but a glimpse of his glory, nor suffer
Earth to detain him long. Too great in your eyes would the Roman
Nation appear, ye gods, were gifts such as these to be lasting!
What lamentation of men shall arise from yon plain to the mighty
City of Mars! and what funeral rites shalt thou witness,
While by his new-made grave thou shalt mournfully ripple, O Tiber!
Neither shall ever a son of the Ilian line raise the Latin
Fathers to hope so high, nor e'er shall the land of the Roman.
Glory so proudly again in any one of her children.
Ah, what devotion, what freshness of faith, and, unconquered in battle,
What a right arm were his! There were none who could safely withstand him,
Whether with arms he should march on foot to encounter his foemen,
Or should he plunge the spur in the flank of his foam-dappled charger.
Ah! thou child of our tears, if thou breakest from fate's bitter bondage,
Thou, Marcellus shalt be! Bring lilies, full handfuls of lilies,
Let me strew blossoms of purple; at least, let me offer thy spirit
These little tokens of love, and render this trivial tribute! "
So, throughout all that bright country, they wandered on hither and thither
Over wide, airy plains, and noted each mountain and valley.
After Anchises hath guided his son through the vistas of Heaven,
When he hath kindled his soul with desire for a glorious future,
Then of the wars that are soon to be waged he speaks to the hero;
Tells of Laurentian tribes, and tells of the town of Latinus;
Teaching both how to avoid and how to endure each misfortune.
Twain are the gates of Sleep, and of these, by common tradition,
One is of horn, whereby true visions pass easily upward;
Fashioned of ivory fair, the other is white and resplendent,
Yet are the dreams untrue that the Spirits release through its portals.
Here, having spoken these words to his son and the Sibyl, Anchises
Halted his steps, and then, through the ivory gateway dismissed them.
He by the speediest way returns to his ships and his comrades.
Coasting the shore to the right he comes to the port of Cajeta;
Anchor from prow is dropped, and the sterns are at rest on the seashore.