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 Nought spake he to Lars Porsena,

To Sextus nought spake he; But he saw on Palatinus

The white porch of his home; And he spake to the noble river

That rolls by the towers of Rome.


 * O Tiber! father Tiber!

To whom the Romans pray, A Roman's life, a Roman's arms,

Take thou in charge this day ! ' So he spake, and speaking sheathed

The good sword by his side, And with his harness on his back

Plunged headlong in the tide.

No sound of joy or sorrow

Was heard from either bank; But friends and foes in dumb surprise, With parted lips and straining eyes,

Stood gazing where he sank; And when above the surges

They saw his crest appear, All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry, And even the ranks of 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 pain,

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