LARS Porsena of Clusium
By the Nine Gods he swore
That the great house of Tarquin
Should suffer wrong no more
By the Nine Gods he swore it
And named a trysting day
And bade his messengers ride forth
To summon his array
East and west and south and north
To summon his array

A mile around the city
The throng stopped up the ways
A fearful sight it was to see
Through two long nights and days
Out spake the Consul roundly
“The bridge must straight go down
For, since Janiculum is lost
Naught else can save the town”

Then out spake brave Horatius
The Captain of the gate
“To every man upon this earth
Death cometh soon or late
And how can man die better
Than facing fearful odds
For the ashes of his fathers
And the temples of his gods"

Standeth our tryptic of braved souls to hold fast the way
Approacheth the might Tuscan hoard
Led by Astur, to do battle this day
All appeareth lost on the bridge
And in a far off land a dwarf did weep

Lord of Luna with sword to the thigh
Cuts Horatius deep to the bone, he might die
But Herminius retaliates
Swift of blow, knife plunged in his face and he dies

But meanwhile axe and lever
Have manfully been plied
And now the bridge hangs tottering
Above the boiling tide
But when they turned their faces
And on the farther shore
Saw brave Horatius stand alone
They would have crossed once more

And now with shouts and clapping, and noises of weeping loud
he enters through the River-Gate, borne by the joyous crowd
With weeping and with laughter, still is the story told
How well Horatious kept the bridge, in the brave days of old