Page:A Sheaf Gleaned in French Fields.djvu/236

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I entered in a sacred temple Amidst a crowd. It might be said that Rome Pressed to this single spot to its last man, And that to give access to all this throng, The human wave that ever, ever grew, The temple walls went on enlarging still. Then, unto Romulus, our common sire, To render him propitious to the land, The Quirinal Priest prepared to sacrifice. The chosen victim by the altar stood, Its skin already strown with flour and salt; Wine from the vase was sprinkled on the front Where have their base the formidable horns; And the Priest uttered in his solemn voice The prayer:—'O God Quirinus, we entreat Of these libations thine acceptance. Grant That Rome amongst the nations be supreme.' He ceased, and silence reigned in that vast hall. Shivered, in expectation, every soul: When suddenly a strident voice was heard At which the temple trembled, as with fear. 'Far, far from me these offerings! Shall I drink The blood of beasts? I long for human blood. The pure blood of a woman must be shed. Then shall your prayers be heard, and Rome be great.'