Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 1.djvu/201

Rh Watch thou, while many a dreaming chieftain dies;

I'll carve our passage, through the heedless foe,

And clear thy road, with many a deadly blow."

His whispering accents then the youth repress'd,

And pierced proud Rhamnes through his panting breast:

Stretch'd at his ease, th' incautious king repos'd;

Debauch, and not fatigue, his eyes had clos'd;

To Turnus dear, a prophet and a prince,

His omens more than augur's skill evince;

But he, who thus foretold the fate of all,

Could not avert his own untimely fall.

Next Remus' armour-bearer, hapless, fell,

And three unhappy slaves the carnage swell;

The charioteer along his courser's sides

Expires, the steel his sever'd neck divides;

And, last, his Lord is number'd with the dead:

Bounding convulsive, flies the gasping head;

From the swol'n veins the blackening torrents pour;

Stain'd is the couch and earth with clotting gore.

Young Lamyrus and Lamus next expire,

And gay Serranus, fill'd with youthful fire;

Half the long night in childish games was pass'd;

Lull'd by the potent grape, he slept at last:

Ah! happier far, had he the morn survey'd,

And, till Aurora's dawn, his skill display'd.