XVIII.

But then, around him as the javelins rush’d, From earth to heaven swell’d up the loud acclaim; And, ere his heart’s last free libation gush’d, With a bright smile, the warrior caught his name Far-floating on the winds! And Victory came, And made the hour of that immortal deed A life, in fiery feeling! Valour’s aim Had sought no loftier guerdon. Thus to bleed Was to be Rome’s high star!--He died--and had his meed.