Horatius at the Bridge

What a rousing, inspiring story so well rendered by Lord Thomas Babington Macaulay. Even young ones can enjoy this poem for its cadences and beautifully strange names and places.

The weather has been fiercely cold this week with school cancelled on Friday. One of my sons wandered in to curl up in a blanket. I reread him this poem for the first time in four or five years and we both still enjoyed it as much as yore.

What great lines and vignettes. This one always gets a laugh.

Was none who would be foremost
To lead such dire attack:
But those behind cried 'Forward!'
And those before cried 'Back!'

I love this for the image of handing down tales:

And in the nights of winter,
When the cold north winds blow,
And the long howling of the wolves
Is heard amidst the snow;
When round the lonely cottage
Roars loud the tempest's din,
And the good logs of Algidus
Roar louder yet within;

When the oldest cask is opened,
And the largest lamp is lit;
When the chestnuts glow in the embers,
And the kid turns on the spit;
When young and old in circle
Around the firebrands close;
When the girls are weaving baskets,
And the lads are shaping bows;

When the goodman mends his armour,
And trims his helmet's plume;
When the goodwife's shuttle merrily
Goes flashing through the loom;
With weeping and with laughter
Still is the story told,
How well Horatius kept the bridge
In the brave days of old.

And yet another.

And straight against that great array
Forth went the dauntless Three.
For Romans in Rome's quarrel
Spared neither land nor gold,
Nor son nor wife, nor limb nor life,
In the brave days of old.

See the next post for the whole poem.