Lays of ancient rome. Lays Of Ancient Rome by MacAulay, Thomas Babington 2022-12-25
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Lays of Ancient Rome: The Poetry and Songs of the Roman Peoples, Depicting Their Battles, Folk History and Gods by Thomas Babington Macaulay
And how can man die better Than facing fearful odds, For the ashes of his fathers, And the temples of his gods, XXVIII "And for the tender mother Who dandled him to rest, And for the wife who nurses His baby at her breast, And for the holy maidens Who feed the eternal flame , To save them from false Sextus That wrought the deed of shame? XIV For aged folks on crutches, And women great with child, And mothers sobbing over babes That clung to them and smiled, And sick men borne in litters High on the necks of slaves, And troops of sun-burned husbandmen With reaping-hooks and staves, XV And droves of mules and asses Laden with skins of wine, And endless flocks of goats and sheep, And endless herds of kine, And endless trains of wagons That creaked beneath the weight Of corn-sacks and of household goods, Choked every roaring gate. XXXVIII Stout Lartius hurled down Aunus Into the stream beneath; Herminius struck at Seius, And clove him to the teeth; At Picus brave Horatius Darted one fiery thrust; And the proud Umbrian's gilded arms Clashed in the bloody dust. It is certain, therefore, that the great Latin writers of the Augustan age did not possess those materials, without which a trustworthy account of the infancy of the republic could not possibly be framed. Through teeth, and skull, and helmet So fierce a thrust he sped, The good sword stood a hand-breadth out Behind the Tuscan's head. The old tales are fascinating for their antiquity and window Into an ancient means of communicating news and entertainment. He stalked along the Forum like King Tarquin in his pride: Twelve axes waited on him, six marching on a side; The townsmen shrank to right and left, and eyed askance with fear His lowering brow, his curling mouth which always seemed to sneer; That brow of hate, that mouth of scorn, marks all the kindred still; For never was there Claudius yet but wished the Commons ill; Nor lacks he fit attendance; for close behind his heels, With outstretched chin and crouching pace, the client Marcus steals, His loins girt up to run with speed, be the errand what it may, And the smile flickering on his cheek, for aught his lord may say.
Lays of ancient Rome : Macaulay, Thomas Babington Macaulay, Baron, 1800
LX No sound of joy or sorrow Was heard from either bank; But friends and foes in dumb surprise, With parted lips and straining eyes, Stood gazing where he sank; And when above the surges, They saw his crest appear, All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry, And even the ranks of Tuscany Could scarce forbear to cheer. DR EVIL: Sounds good to me. At the same time, there are entire stanzas that just give you a view of the countryside -- nothing else. And how she danced with pleasure to see my civic crown, And took my sword, and hung it up, and brought me forth my gown! The language is clear and easy to follow, and the rhymes make the lays easy to remember. What noble Lucomo comes next To taste our Roman cheer? XXXV Meanwhile the Tuscan army, Right glorious to behold, Come flashing back the noonday light, Rank behind rank, like surges bright Of a broad sea of gold. That said, the author reconstructs and tells a bit of the history of early ballad poetry in preliterate Rome.
L Was none who would be foremost To lead such dire attack; But those behind cried, "Forward! Now who will stand on either hand, And keep the bridge with me? XXXII Then none was for a party; Then all were for the state; Then the great man helped the poor, And the poor man loved the great: Then lands were fairly portioned; Then spoils were fairly sold: The Romans were like brothers In the brave days of old. Old men still creep among us who saw that fearful day, Just seventy years and seven ago, when the wicked Ten bare sway. XLVI And the great Lord of Luna Fell at that deadly stroke, As falls on Mount Alvernus A thunder smitten oak: Far o'er the crashing forest The giant arms lie spread; And the pale augurs, muttering low, Gaze on the blasted head. A 2000 year old story told, retold and finally captured in poetry by Lord Macaulay still remains relevant and entertaining. LXII Never, I ween, did swimmer, In such an evil case, Struggle through such a raging flood Safe to the landing place: But his limbs were borne up bravely By the brave heart within, And our good father Tiber Bare bravely up his chin. Shame on the false Etruscan Who lingers in his home, When Porsena of Clusium Is on the march for Rome. He will admit that the most important parts of the narrative have some foundation in truth.
He will perhaps be inclined to regard the princes who are said to have founded the civil and religious institutions of Rome, the sons of Mars, and the husband of Egeria, as mere mythological personages, of the same class with Perseus and Ixion. The maiden sang as sings the lark, when up he darts his flight, From his nest in the green April corn, to meet the morning light; And Appius heard her sweet young voice, and saw her sweet young face, And loved her with the accursed love of his accursed race, And all along the Forum, and up the Sacred Street, His vulture eye pursued the trip of those small glancing feet. Why have we stopped? XXXIX Then Ocnus of Falerii Rushed on the Roman Three; And Lausulus of Urgo, The rover of the sea; And Aruns of Volsinium, Who slew the great wild boar, The great wild boar that had his den Amidst the reeds of Cosa's fen, And wasted fields, and slaughtered men, Along Albinia's shore. It's a very Victorian collection of poetry: there is more blood, honor, guts, and glory in a sterner, straighter telling than you would get from a modern author. Slight crushing to spine ends. But, though without or staff or sword, so furious was the throng, That scarce the train with might and main could bring their lord along.
Before the gates of Sutrium Is met the great array. Verbenna down to Ostia Hath wasted all the plain; Astur hath stormed Janiculum, And the stout guards are slain. Good rollicking verse, just right to build Victorian youth that would build the Empire! XXIII And plainly and more plainly Now might the burghers know, By port and vest, by horse and crest, Each warlike Lucumo. Why have we stopped? No more, aghast and pale, From Ostia's walls the crowd shall mark The track of thy destroying bark. XIX They held a council standing, Before the River-Gate; Short time was there, ye well may guess, For musing or debate.
Lays Of Ancient Rome by MacAulay, Thomas Babington
Macaulay's introduction gives a fascinating description of the role of ballads and song in establishing and passing on culture. You can see why the Victorians loved these verses by Macaulay, celebrating as they do the very Victorian virtues of Courage and Patriotism. LXV They gave him of the corn-land, That was of public right, As much as two strong oxen Could plough from morn till night; And they made a molten image, And set it up on high, And there is stands unto this day To witness if I lie. To whom the Romans pray, A Roman's life, a Roman's arms, Take thou in charge this day! Still let your haggard debtors bear all their fathers bore; Still let your dens of torment be noisome as of yore; No fire when Tiber freezes; no air in dog-star heat; And store of rods for free-born backs, and holes for free-born feet. LXI But fiercely ran the current, Swollen high by months of rain: And fast his blood was flowing; And he was sore in pain, And heavy with his armor, And spent with changing blows: And oft they thought him sinking, But still again he rose.
Lays of Ancient Rome by Baron Thomas Babington Macaulay Macaulay
Engraved throughout by George Scharf. For this was the great vengeance wrought on Tarquin's evil seed? Quality assurance was conducted on each of these books in an attempt to remove books with imperfections introduced by the digitization process. And, as Virginius through the press his way in silence cleft, Ever the mighty multitude fell back to right and left. Boards have moderate shelf-wear with bumping to corners and rubbing to surfaces. Now welcome to thy home! On the house-tops was no woman But spat towards him and hissed, No child but screamed out curses, And shook its little fist. One of my favorite features of ancient poetry is its catalogs: the lists of gods, warriors or cities, each labeled with the appropriate epithet or characteristic. IX There be thirty chosen prophets, The wisest of the land, Who alway by Lars Porsena Both morn and evening stand: Evening and morn the Thirty Have turned the verses o'er, Traced from the right on linen white By mighty seers of yore.
Informs as it fascinates, Macaulay's Lays is altogether my favorite work of poetry. DR EVIL: And if they don't deliver? Never on earthly anvil Did such rare armour gleam; And never did such gallant steeds Drink of an earthly stream. Four hundred trumpets sounded A peal of warlike glee, As that great host, with measured tread, And spears advanced, and ensigns spread, Rolled slowly towards the bridge's head, Where stood the dauntless Three. XIV For aged folks on crutches, And women great with child, And mothers sobbing over babes That clung to them and smiled, And sick men borne in litters High on the necks of slaves, And troops of sun-burned husbandmen With reaping-hooks and staves, XV And droves of mules and asses Laden with skins of wine, And endless flocks of goats and sheep, And endless herds of kine , And endless trains of wagons That creaked beneath the weight Of corn-sacks and of household goods, Choked every roaring gate. Those writers own, indeed, that the chronicles to which they had access were filled with battles that were never fought, and Consuls that were never inaugurated; and we have abundant proof that, in these chronicles, events of the greatest importance, such as the issue of the war with Porsena and the issue of the war with Brennus, were grossly misrepresented.
The only downsides to this work that I found is that it is a vocabulary builder. Notes and Queries, p. It is quality poetry that begs to be read aloud or at the very least subvocalized if you are reading in a doctor's office like I was. XXXVIII Stout Lartius hurled down Aunus Into the stream beneath; Herminius struck at Seius, And clove him to the teeth; At Picus brave Horatius Darted one fiery thrust; And the proud Umbrian's gilded arms Clashed in the bloody dust. Must I be torn in pieces? The language is clear and easy to follow, and the rhymes make the lays easy to remember. That said, the author reconstructs and tells a bit of the history of early ballad poetry in preliterate Rome. A total of four lengthy poems are Thomas Babington Macaulay's excellent compendium of Roman narrative poetry consists of works both tragedian and dramatic, which were popular for centuries in Ancient Rome.
