Ho, trumpets, sound a war-note! Ho, lictors,[4] clear the way! The Knights[5] will ride, in all their pride, Along the streets to-day, To-day the doors and windows 5 Are hung with garlands all, From Castor[6] in the forum,[7] To Mars without the wall. Each Knight is robed in purple, With olive each is crowned, 10 A gallant war-horse under each Paws haughtily the ground. While flows the Yellow River,[8] While stands the Sacred Hill,[9] The proud Ides of Quintilis, 15 Shall have such honour still. Gay are the Martian Kalends:[10] December's Nones[11] are gay: But the proud Ides, when the squadron rides, Shall be Rome's whitest[12] day. 20

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[13] 25 Tossing in waves of pine, O'er Cirrha's dome,[14] o'er Adria's[15] foam, O'er purple Apennine, From where with flutes and dances Their ancient mansion rings, 30 In lordly Lacedaemon,[16] The city of two kings, To where, by Lake Regillus, Under the Porcian[17] height, All in the lands of Tusculum, 35 Was fought the glorious fight.

Now on the place of slaughter Are cots and sheepfolds seen, And rows of vines, and fields of wheat, And apple-orchards green; 40 And swine crush the big acorns That fall from Corne's[18] oaks. Upon the turf by the Fair Fount[19] The reaper's pottage smokes. The fisher baits his angle; 45 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; 50 How in the slippery swamp of blood Warrior and war-horse reeled; How wolves came with fierce gallop, And crows on eager wings, To tear the flesh of captains, 55 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 night; 60 And how the Lake Regillus Bubbled with crimson foam, What time the Thirty Cities[20] Came forth to war with Rome.