Meanwhile the Tuscan army,
Right glorious to behold,
Came flashing back the noonday light,
Rank behind rank, like surges bright
Of a broad sea of gold. 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…
THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY, LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME (1842)
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Comments (3)
Harold Hark
said:
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There is always more. Be patient. It will be coming down before the day is long and the night glows with red embers and the smell of phosphorous and camphor. |
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