Tall are the oaks whose acorns Drop in dark Auser's rill; Fat are the stags that champ the boughs Beyond all streams Clitumnus Is to the herdsman dear; But by the yellow Tiber Was tumult and affright: To Rome men took their flight. The throng stopped up the ways: HORATIUS. A fearful sight it was to see For aged folk on crutches, And women great with child, And droves of mules and asses That creaked beneath their weight Now, from the rock Tarpeian, They sat all night and day, For every hour some horseman came |