| |
| SAVE where Garganus, with low-ridgéd bound, | |
| Protects the north, the eye outstretching far | |
| Surveys one sea of gently swelling ground, | |
| A fitly moulded “Orchestra of War.” | |
| |
| Here Aufidus, between his humble banks | 5 |
| With wild thyme plotted, winds along the plain, | |
| A devious path, as when the serried ranks | |
| Passed over it, that passed not back again. | |
| |
| The long-horned herds enjoy the cool delight, | |
| Sleeping half-merged, to shun the deep sun-glow, | 10 |
| Which, that May-morning, dazed the Roman sight, | |
| But fell innocuous on the subtler foe. | |
| |
| We feel the wind upon our bosoms beat, | |
| That whilom dimmed with dust those noble eyes, | |
| And rendered aimless many a gallant feat, | 15 |
| And brought disgrace on many a high emprise. | |
| |
| And close beside us rests the ancient well, | |
| Where at the end of that accursed day, | |
| Apulian peasants to their grandsons tell, | |
| The friend and follower of wise Fabius lay; | 20 |
| |
| Here fainting lay, compelled by fate to share | |
| Shame not his own,—here spurned the scanty time | |
| Still left for flight, lest, living he might bear | |
| Hard witness to his colleague’s generous crime. | |
| |
| I have seen many fields where men have fought | 25 |
| With mightier issues, but not one, I deem, | |
| Where history offers to reflecting thought | |
| So sharp a check of greatness so supreme. | |
| |
