A Lay Sung at the Feast of Castor and Pollux on the Ides of Quintilis
in the year of the City CCCCLI
I
- Ho, trumpets, sound a war-note!
- Ho, lictors, clear the way!
- The Knights will ride, in all their pride,
- Along the streets to-day.
- To-day the doors and windows
- Are hung with garlands all,
- From Castor in the Forum,
- To Mars without the wall.
- Each Knight is robed in purple,
- With olive each is crowned;
- A gallant war-horse under each
- Paws haughtily the ground.
- While flows the Yellow River,
- While stands the Sacred Hill,
- The proud Ides of Quintilis
- Shall have such honor still.
- Gay are the Martian Kalends,
- December's Nones are gay,
- But the proud Ides, when the squadron rides,
- Shall be Rome's whitest day.
II
- Unto the Great Twin Brethren
- We keep this solemn feast.
- Swift, swift, the Great Twin Brethren
- Came spurring from the east.
- They came o'er wild Parthenius
- Tossing in waves of pine,
- O'er Cirrha's dome, o'er Adria's foam,
- O'er purple Apennine,
- From where with flutes and dances
- Their ancient mansion rings,
- In lordly Lacedæmon,
- The City of two kings,
- To where, by Lake Regillus,
- Under the Porcian height,
- All in the lands of Tusculum,
- Was fought the glorious fight.
III
- Now on the place of slaughter
- Are cots and sheepfolds seen,
- And rows of vines, and fields of wheat,
- And apple-orchards green;
- The swine crush the big acorns
- That fall from Corne's oaks.
- Upon the turf by the Fair Fount
- The reaper's pottage smokes.
- The fisher baits his angle;
- The hunter twangs his bow;
- Little they think on those strong limbs
- That moulder deep below.
- Little they think how sternly
- That day the trumpets pealed;
- How in the slippery swamp of blood
- Warrior and war-horse reeled;
- How wolves came with fierce gallops,
- And crows on eager wings,
- To tear the flesh of captains,
- And peck the eyes of kings;
- How thick the dead lay scattered
- Under the Porcian height;
- How through the gates of Tusculum
- Raved the wild stream of flight;
- And how the Lake Regillus
- Bubbled with crimson foam,
- What time the Thirty Cities
- Came forth to war with Rome.
IV
- But Roman, when thou standest
- Upon that holy ground,
- Look thou with heed on the dark rock
- That girds the dark lake round.
- So shalt thou see a hoof-mark
- Stamped deep into the flint:
- It was not hoof of mortal steed
- That made so strange a dint:
- There to the Great Twin Brethren
- Vow thou thy vows, and pray
- That they, in tempest and in flight,
- Will keep thy head alway.
V
- Since last the Great Twin Brethren
- Of mortal eyes were seen,
- Have years gone by an hundred
- And fourscore and thirteen.
- That summer a Virginius
- Was Consul first in place;
- The second was stout Aulus,
- Of the Posthumian race.
- The Herald of the Latines
- From Gabii came in state:
- The Herald of the Latines
- Passed through Rome's Eastern Gate:
- The Herald of the Latines
- Did in our Forum stand;
- And there he did his office,
- A sceptre in his hand.
VI
- ``Hear, Senators and people
- Of the good town of Rome,
- The Thirty Cities charge you
- To bring the Tarquins home:
- And if ye still be stubborn
- To work the Tarquins wrong,
- The Thirty Cities warn you,
- Look your walls be strong.''
VII
- Then spake the Consul Aulus,
- He spake a bitter jest:
- ``Once the jays sent a message
- Unto the eagle's nest:--
- Now yield thou up thine eyrie
- Unto the carrion-kite,
- Or come forth valiantly, and face
- The jays in deadly fight.--
- Forth looked in wrath the eagle;
- And carrion-kite and jay,
- Soon as they saw his beak and claw,
- Fled screaming far away.''
VIII
- The Herald of the Latines
- Hath hied him back in state:
- The Fathers of the City
- Are met in high debate.
- Then spake the elder Consul,
- And ancient man and wise:
- ``Now harken, Conscript Fathers,
- To that which I advise.
- In seasons of great peril
- 'Tis good that one bear sway;
- Then choose we a Dictator,
- Whom all men shall obey.
- Camerium knows how deeply
- The sword of Aulus bites,
- And all our city calls him
- The man of seventy fights.
- Then let him be Dictator
- For six months and no more,
- And have a Master of the Knights,
- And axes twenty-four.''
IX
- So Aulus was Dictator,
- The man of seventy fights;
- He made Æbutius Elva
- His Master of the Knights.
- On the third morn thereafter,
- At downing of the day,
- Did Aulus and Æbutius
- Set forth with their array.
- Sempronius Atratinus
- Was left in charge at home
- With boys, and with gray-headed men,
- To keep the walls of Rome.
- Hard by the Lake Regillus
- Our camp was pitched at night:
- Eastward a mile the Latines lay,
- Under the Porcian height.
- Far over hill and valley
- Their mighty host was spread;
- And with their thousand watch-fires
- The midnight sky was red.
X
- Up rose the golden morning
- Over the Porcian height,
- The proud Ides of Quintilis
- Marked evermore in white.
- Not without secret trouble
- Our bravest saw the foe;
- For girt by threescore thousand spears,
- The thirty standards rose.
- From every warlike city
- That boasts the Latian name,
- Fordoomed to dogs and vultures,
- That gallant army came;
- From Setia's purple vineyards,
- From Norba's ancient wall,
- From the white streets of Tusculum,
- The proudust town of all;
- From where the Witch's Fortress
- O'er hangs the dark-blue seas;
- From the still glassy lake that sleeps
- Beneath Aricia's trees--
- Those trees in whose dim shadow
- The ghastly priest doth reign,
- The priest who slew the slayer,
- And shall himself be slain;
- From the drear banks of Ufens,
- Where flights of marsh-fowl play,
- And buffaloes lie wallowing
- Through the hot summer's day;
- From the gigantic watch-towers,
- No work of earthly men,
- Whence Cora's sentinels o'erlook
- The never-ending fen;
- From the Laurentian jungle,
- The wild hog's reedy home;
- From the green steeps whence Anio leaps
- In floods of snow-white foam.
XI
- Aricia, Cora, Norba,
- Velitræ, with the might
- Of Setia and of Tusculum,
- Were marshalled on the right:
- The leader was Mamilius,
- Prince of the Latian name;
- Upon his head a helmet
- Of red gold shone like flame:
- High on a gallant charger
- Of dark-gray hue he rode;
- Over his gilded armor
- A vest of purple flowed,
- Woven in the land of sunrise
- By Syria's dark-browed daughters,
- And by the sails of Carthage brought
- Far o'er the southern waters.
XII
- Lavinium and Laurentum
- Had on the left their post,
- With all the banners of the marsh,
- And banners of the coast.
- Their leader was false Sextus,
- That wrought the deed of shame:
- With restless pace and haggard face
- To his last field he came.
- Men said he saw strange visions
- Which none beside might see;
- And that strange sounds were in his ears
- Which none might hear but he.
- A woman fair and stately,
- But pale as are the dead,
- Oft through the watches of the night
- Sat spinning by his bed.
- And as she plied the distaff,
- In a sweet voice and low,
- She sang of great old houses,
- And fights fought long ago.
- So spun she, and so sang she,
- Until the east was gray.
- Then pointed to her bleeding breast,
- And shrieked, and fled away.
XIII
- But in the centre thickest
- Were ranged the shields of foes,
- And from the centre loudest
- The cry of batle rose.
- There Tibur marched and Pedum
- Beneath proud Tarquin's rule,
- And Ferentinum of the rock,
- And Gabii of the pool.
- There rode the Volscian succors:
- There, in the dark stern ring,
- The Roman exiles gathered close
- Around the ancient king.
- Though white as Mount Soracte,
- When winter nights are long,
- His beard flowed down o'er mail and belt,
- His heart and hand were strong:
- Under his hoary eyebrows
- Still flashed forth quenchless rage:
- And, if the lance shook in his gripe,
- 'Twas more with hate than age.
- Close at his side was Titus
- On an Apulian steed,
- Titus, the youngest Tarquin,
- Too good for such a breed.
XIV
- Now on each side the leaders
- Gave signal for the charge;
- And on each side the footmen
- Strode on with lance and targe;
- And on each side the horsemen
- Struck their spurs deep in gore,
- And front to front the armies
- Met with a mighty roar:
- And under that great battle
- The earth with blood was red;
- And, like the Pomptine fog at morn,
- The dust hung overhead;
- And louder still and louder
- Rose from the darkened field
- The braying of the war-horns,
- The clang of sword and shield,
- The rush of squadrons sweeping
- Like whirlwinds o'er the plain,
- The shouting of the slayers,
- And screeching of the slain.
XV
- False Sextus rode out foremost,
- His look was high and bold;
- His corslet was of bison's hide,
- Plated with steel and gold.
- As glares the famished eagle
- From the Digentian rock
- On a choice lamb that bounds alone
- Before Bandusia's flock,
- Herminius glared on Sextus,
- And came with eagle speed,
- Herminius on black Auster,
- Brave champion on brave steed;
- In his right hand the broadsword
- That kept the bridge so well,
- And on his helm the crown he won
- When proud Fidenæ fell.
- Woe to the maid whose lover
- Shall cross his path to-day!
- False Sextus saw, and trembled,
- And turned, and fled away.
- As turns, as flies, the woodman
- In the Calabrian brake,
- When through the reeds gleams the round eye
- Of that fell speckled snake;
- So turned, so fled, false Sextus,
- And hid him in the rear,
- Behind the dark Lavinian ranks,
- Bristling with crest and spear.
XVI
- But far to the north Æbutius,
- The Master of the Knights,
- Gave Tubero of Norba
- To feed the Porcian kites.
- Next under those red horse-hoofs
- Flaccus of Setia lay;
- Better had he been pruning
- Among his elms that day.
- Mamilus saw the slaughter,
- And tossed his golden crest,
- And towards the Master of the Knights
- Through the thick battle pressed.
- Æbutius smote Mamilius
- So fiercely on the shield
- That the great lord of Tusculum
- Well-nigh rolled on the field.
- Mamilius smote Æbutius,
- With a good aim and true,
- Just where the next and shoulder join,
- And pierced him through and through;
- And brave Æbutius Elva
- Fell swooning to the ground:
- But a thick wall of bucklers
- Encompassed him around.
- His clients from the battle
- Bare him some little space,
- And filled a helm from the dark lake,
- And bathed his brow and face;
- And when at last he opened
- His swimming eyes to light,
- Men say, the earliest words he spake
- Was, ``Friends, how goes the fight?''.
XVII
- But meanwhile in the centre
- Great deeds of arms were wrought;
- There Aulus the Dictator
- And there Valerius fought.
- Aulus with his good broadsword
- A bloody passage cleared
- To where, amidst the thickest foes,
- He saw the long white beard.
- Flat lighted that good broadsword
- Upon proud Tarquin's head.
- He dropped the lance: he dropped the reins:
- He fell as fall the dead.
- Down Aulus springs to slay him,
- With eyes like coals of fire;
- But faster Titus hath sprung down,
- And hath bestrode his sire.
- Latian captains, Roman knights,
- Fast down to earth they spring,
- And hand to hand they fight on foot
- Around the ancient king.
- First Titus gave tall Cæso
- A death wound in the face;
- Tall Cæso was the bravest man
- Of the brave Fabian race:
- Aulus slew Rex of Gabii,
- The priest of Juno's shrine;
- Valerius smote down Julius,
- Of Rome's great Julian line;
- Julius, who left his mansion,
- High on the Velian hill,
- And through all turns of weal and woe
- Followed proud Tarquin still.
- Now right across proud Tarquin
- A corpse was Julius laid;
- And Titus groaned with rage and grief,
- And at Valerius made.
- Valerius struck at Titus,
- And lopped off half his crest;
- But Titus stabbed Valerius
- A span deep in the breast.
- Like a mast snapped by the tempest,
- Valerius reeled and fell.
- Ah! woe is me for the good house
- That loves the people well!
- Then shouted loud the Latines;
- And with one rush they bore
- The struggling Romans backward
- Three lances' length and more:
- And up they took proud Tarquin,
- And laid him on a shield,
- And four strong yeomen bare him,
- Still senseless, from the field.
XVIII
- But fiercer grew the fighting
- Around Valerius dead;
- For Titus dragged him by the foot
- And Aulus by the head.
- ``On, Latines, on!'' quoth Titus,
- ``See how the rebels fly!''
- ``Romans, stand firm!'' quoth Aulus,
- ``And win this fight or die!
- They must not give Valerius
- To raven and to kite;
- For aye Valerius loathed the wrong,
- And aye upheld the right:
- And for your wives and babies
- In the front rank he fell.
- Now play the men for the good house
- That loves the people well!.''
XIX
- Then tenfold round the body
- The roar of battle rose,
- Like the roar of a burning forest,
- When a strong north wind blows,
- Now backward, and now forward,
- Rocked furiously the fray,
- Till none could see Valerius,
- And none wist where he lay.
- For shivered arms and ensigns
- Were heaped there in a mound,
- And corpses stiff, and dying men
- That writhed and gnawed the ground;
- And wounded horses kicking,
- And snorting purple foam:
- Right well did such a couch befit
- A Consular of Rome.
XX
- But north looked the Dictator;
- North looked he long and hard,
- And spake to Caius Cossus,
- The Captain of his Guard;
- ``Caius, of all the Romans
- Thou hast the keenest sight,
- Say, what through yonder storm of dust
- Comes from the Latian right;''
XXI
- Then answered Caius Cossus:
- ``I see an evil sight;
- The banner of proud Tusculum
- Comes from the Latian right;
- I see the pluméd horsemen;
- And far before the rest
- I see the dark-gray charger,
- I see the purple vest;
- I see the golden helmet
- That shines far off like flame;
- So ever rides Mamilius,
- Prince of the Latian name.''
XXII
- ``Now hearken, Caius Cossus:
- Spring on thy horse's back;
- Ride as the wolves of Apennine
- Were all upon thy track;
- Haste to our southward battle:
- And never draw thy rein
- Until thou find Herminius,
- And bid hime come amain.''
XXIII
- So Aulus spake, and turned him
- Again to that fierce strife;
- And Caius Cossus mounted,
- And rode for death and life.
- Loud clanged beneath his horse-hoofs
- The helmets of the dead,
- And many a curdling pool of blood
- Splashed him heel to head.
- So came he far to southward,
- Where fought the Roman host,
- Against the banners of the marsh
- And banners of the coast.
- Like corn before the sickle
- The stout Laninians fell,
- Beneath the edge of the true sword
- That kept the bridge so well.
XXIV
- ``Herminius! Aulus greets thee;
- He bids thee come with speed,
- To help our central bettle,
- For sore is there our need;
- There wars the youngest Tarquin,
- And there the Crest of Flame,
- The Tusculan Mamilius,
- Prince of the Latian name.
- Valerius hath fallen fighting
- In front of our array;
- And Aulus of the seventy fields
- Alone upholds the day.''
XXV
- Herminius beat his bosom:
- But never a word he spake.
- He clapped his hand on Auster's mane,
- He gave the reins a shake.
- Away, away, went Auster,
- Like an arrow from the bow:
- Black Auster was the fleetest steed
- From Aufidus to Po.
XXVI
- Right glad were all the Romans
- Who, in that hour of dread,
- Against great odds bare up the war
- Around Valerius dead,
- When from the south the cheering
- Rose with a mighty swell;
- ``Herminius comes, Herminius,
- Who kept the bridge so well!''
XXVII
- Mamilius spied Herminius,
- And dashed across the way.
- ``Herminius! I have sought thee
- Through many a bloody day.
- One of us two, Herminius,
- Shall never more go home.
- I will lay on for Tusculum,
- And lay thou on for Rome!
XXVIII
- All round them paused the battle,
- While met in mortal fray
- The Roman and the Tusculan,
- The horses black and gray.
- Herminius smote Mamilius
- Through breast-plate and through breast,
- And fast flowed out the purple blood
- Over the purple vest.
- Mamilius smote Herminius
- Through head-piece and through head,
- And side by side those chiefs of pride,
- Together fell down dead.
- Down fell they dead together
- In a great lake of gore;
- And still stood all who saw them fall
- While men might count a score.
XXIX
- Fast, fast, with heels wild spurning,
- The dark-gray charger fled:
- He burst through ranks of fighting men,
- He sprang o'er heaps of dead.
- His bridle far out-streming,
- His flanks all blood and foam,
- He sought the southern mountains,
- The mountains of his home.
- The pass was steep and rugged,
- The wolves they howled and whined;
- But he ran like a whirlwind up the pass,
- And he left the wolves behind.
- Through many a startled hamlet
- Thundered his flying feet;
- He rushed through the gate of Tusculum,
- He rushed up the long white street;
- He rushed by tower and temple,
- And paused not from his race
- Till he stood before his master's door
- In the stately market-place.
- And straightway round him gathered
- A pale and trembling crowd,
- And when they knew him, cries of rage
- Brake forth, and wailing loud:
- And women rent their tresses
- For their great prince's fall;
- And old men girt on their old swords,
- And went to man the wall.
XXX
- But, like a graven image,
- Black Auster kept his place,
- And ever wistfully he looked
- Into his master's face.
- The raven-mane that daily,
- With pats and fond caresses,
- The young Herminia washed and combed,
- And twined in even tresses,
- And decked with colored ribbons
- From her own gay attire,
- Hung sadly o'er her father's corpse
- In carnage and in mire.
- Forth with a shout sprang Titus,
- And seized black Auster's rein.
- Then Aulus sware a fearful oath,
- And ran at him amain.
- ``The furies of thy brother
- With me and mine abide,
- If one of your accursed house
- Upon black Auster ride!''
- As on a Alpine watch-tower
- From heaven comes down the flame,
- Full on the neck of Titus
- The blade of Aulus came:
- And out the red blood spouted,
- In a wide arch and tall,
- As spouts a fountain in the court
- Of some rich Capuan's hall.
- The knees of all the Latines
- Were loosened with dismay,
- When dead, on dead Herminius,
- The bravest Tarquin lay.
XXXI
- And Aulus the Dictator
- Stroked Auster's raven mane,
- With heed he looked unto the girths,
- With heed unto the rein.
- ``Now bear me well, black Auster,
- Into yon thick array;
- And thou and I will have revenge
- For thy good lord this day.''
XXXII
- So spake he; and was buckling
- Tighter black Auster's band,
- When he was aware of a princely pair
- That rode at his right hand.
- So like they were, no mortal
- Might one from other know:
- White as snow their armor was:
- Their steeds were white as snow.
- Never on earthly anvil
- Did such rare armor gleam;
- And never did such gallant steeds
- Drink of an earthly stream.
XXXIII
- And all who saw them trembled,
- And pale grew every cheek;
- And Aulus the Dictator
- Scarce gathered voice to speak.
- ``Say by what name men call you?
- What city is your home?
- And wherefore ride ye in such guise
- Before the ranks of Rome?''
XXXIV
- ``By many names men call us;
- In many lands we dwell:
- Well Samothracia knows us;
- Cyrene knows us well.
- Our house in gay Tarentum
- Is hung each morn with flowers:
- High o'er the masts of Syracuse
- Our marble portal towers;
- But by the proud Eurotas
- Is our dear native home;
- And for the right we come to fight
- Before the ranks of Rome.''
XXXV
- So answered those strange horsemen,
- And each couched low his spear;
- And forthwith all the ranks of Rome
- Were bold, and of good cheer:
- And on the thirty armies
- Came wonder and affright,
- And Ardea wavered on the left,
- And Cora on the right.
- ``Rome to the charge!'' cried Aulus;
- ``The foe begins to yield!
- Charge for the hearth of Vesta!
- Charge for the Golden Shield!
- Let no man stop to plunder,
- But slay, and slay, and slay;
- The gods who live forever
- Are on our side to-day.''
XXXVI
- Then the fierce trumpet-flourish
- From earth to heaven arose,
- The kites know well the long stern swell
- That bids the Romans close.
- Then the good sword of Aulus
- Was lifted up to slay;
- Then, like a crag down Apennine,
- Rushed Auster through the fray.
- But under those strange horsemen
- Still thicker lay the slain;
- And after those strange horses
- Black Auster toiled in vain.
- Behind them Rome's long battle
- Came rolling on the foe,
- Ensigns dancing wild above,
- Blades all in line below.
- So comes the Po in flood-time
- Upon the Celtic plain;
- So comes the squall, blacker than night,
- Upon the Adrian main.
- Now, by our Sire Quirinus,
- It was a goodly sight
- To see the thirty standards
- Swept down the tide of flight.
- So flies the spray of Adria
- When the black squall doth blow
- So corn-sheaves in the flood-time
- Spin down the whirling Po.
- False Sextus to the mountains
- Turned first his horse's head;
- And fast fled Ferentinum,
- And fast Lanuvium fled.
- The horsemen of Nomentus
- Spurred hard out of the fray;
- The footmen of Velitræ
- Threw shield and spear away.
- And underfoot was trampled,
- Amidst the mud and gore,
- The banner of proud Tusculum,
- That never stooped before:
- And down went Flavius Faustus,
- Who led his stately ranks
- From where the apple blossoms wave
- On Anio's echoing banks,
- And Tullus of Arpinum,
- Chief of the Volscian aids,
- And Metius with the long fair curls,
- The love of Anxur's maids,
- And the white head of Vulso,
- The great Arician seer,
- And Nepos of Laurentum
- The hunter of the deer;
- And in the back false Sextus
- Felt the good Roman steel,
- And wriggling in the dust he died,
- Like a worm beneath the wheel:
- And fliers and pursuers
- Were mingled in a mass;
- And far away the battle
- Went roaring through the pass.
XXXVII
- Semponius Atratinus
- Sat in the Eastern Gate,
- Beside him were three Fathers,
- Each in his chair of state;
- Fabius, whose nine stout grandsons
- That day were in the field,
- And Manlius, eldest of the Twelve
- Who keep the Golden Shield;
- And Sergius, the High Pontiff,
- For wisdom far renowned;
- In all Etruria's colleges
- Was no such Pontiff found.
- And all around the portal,
- And high above the wall,
- Stood a great throng of people,
- But sad and silent all;
- Young lads and stooping elders
- That might not bear the mail,
- Matrons with lips that quivered,
- And maids with faces pale.
- Since the first gleam of daylight,
- Sempronius had not ceased
- To listen for the rushing
- Of horse-hoofs from the east.
- The mist of eve was rising,
- The sun was hastening down,
- When he was aware of a princely pair
- Fast pricking towards the town.
- So like they were, man never
- Saw twins so like before;
- Red with gore their armor was,
- Their steeds were red with gore.
XXXVIII
- ``Hail to the great Asylum!
- Hail to the hill-tops seven!
- Hail to the fire that burns for aye,
- And the shield that fell from heaven!
- This day, by Lake Regillus,
- Under the Porcian height,
- All in the lands of Tusculum
- Was fought a glorious fight.
- Tomorrow your Dictator
- Shall bring in triumph home
- The spoils of thirty cities
- To deck the shrines of Rome!''
XXXIX
- Then burst from that great concourse
- A shout that shook the towers,
- And some ran north, and some ran south,
- Crying,``The day is ours!''
- But on rode these strange horsemen,
- With slow and lordly pace;
- And none who saw their bearing
- Durst ask their name or race.
- On rode they to the Forum,
- While laurel-boughs and flowers,
- From house-tops and from windows,
- Fell on their crests in showers.
- When they drew nigh to Vesta,
- They vaulted down amain,
- And washed their horses in the well
- That springs by Vesta's fane.
- And straight again they mounted,
- And rode to Vesta's door;
- Then, like a blast, away they passed,
- And no man saw them more.
XL
- And all the people trembled,
- And pale grew every cheek;
- And Sergius the High Pontiff
- Alone found voice to speak:
- ``The gods who live forever
- Have fought for Rome to-day!
- These be the Great Twin Brethren
- To whom the Dorians pray.
- Back comes the chief in triumph,
- Who, in the hour of fight,
- Hath seen the Great Twin Brethren
- In harness on his right.
- Safe comes the ship to haven,
- Through billows and through gales,
- If once the Great Twin Brethren
- Sit shining on the sails.
- Wherefore they washed their horses
- In Vesta's holy well,
- Wherefore they rode to Vesta's door,
- I know, but may not tell.
- Here, hard by Vesta's temple,
- Build we a stately dome
- Unto the Great Twin Brethren
- Who fought so well for Rome.
- And when the months returning
- Bring back this day of fight,
- The proud Ides of Quintilis,
- Marked evermore with white,
- Unto the Great Twin Brethren
- Let all the people throng,
- With chaplets and with offerings,
- With music and with song;
- And let the doors and windows
- Be hung with garlands all,
- And let the knights be summoned
- To Mars without the wall:
- Thence let them ride in purple
- With joyous trumpet-sound,
- Each mounted on his war-horse,
- And each with olive crowned;
- And pass in solemn order
- Before the sacred dome,
- Where dwell the Great Twin Brethren
- Who fought so well for Rome.''
Bob Blair, Editor.
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