Page:Blackwood's Magazine volume 062.djvu/243

1847.] The day rose on Ariminum With War's shrill cry—They come! they come!
 * Nor they unwelcomed came;

Pisaurum, Fanum's shrine, and thou, Ancon, with thy sea-fronting brow,
 * Own'd the great soldier's name.

And all Picenum's orchard-fields, And the strong-forted Asculum yields: And where, beyond high Apennine, Clitumnus feeds the white, white kine;
 * And 'mid Pelignian hills—

Short time, with his Corfinian bands, Stout Ænobarbus stiffly stands
 * Where urgent Cæsar wills!

Flee, Pompey, flee! the ancient awe Of magisterial rule and law,
 * Authority and state,

The Consul's name, the Lictor's rods. The pomp of Capitolian gods,
 * Stem not the flooding fate.

Beneath the Volscian hills, and near Where exiled Marius lurk'd in fear, 'Mid stagnant Liris' marshes, there Breathe first in that luxurious lair
 * Where famous Hannibal lay;

Nor tarry; while the chance is thine, Hie o'er the Samnian Apennine
 * To the far Calabrian bay!

Wing thy sure speed! Who hounds thy path? Fierce as the Furies in their wrath
 * The blood-stain'd wretch pursue,

He comes, Rome's tempest-footed son, Victor, but deeming nothing done
 * While aught remains to do.

Above Brundusium's bosom'd bay He stands, lashing the Adrian spray. With piers of enterprise the sea Her fleet-wing'd chariot trims for thee,
 * To the Greek coast to bear thee;

There, where Enipeus rolls his flood Through storied fields made fat with blood,
 * For fate's last blow prepare thee.