dots-menu
×

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Italy: Vols. XI–XIII. 1876–79.

Thrasimene, the Lake

Thrasymene

By John Nichol (1833–1894)

(From Hannibal: A Historical Drama. Act II, Scene VI)

HANNIBAL.Let the valleys ring

With triumph and with terror, all is ours.

Here in the earth their swords have made their own,

Bury our officers with solemn rites;

And, while the tears of Carthage and of Spain

Mourn brave Zacantho, and brave Acron, dead,

We keep their memories.

SOSILUS.While their bodies rust

And grow incorporate with Italian soil,

Let the gray olives glisten, vineyards shed

The grape above their tombs; let evening waves

Murmur their dirges in the waning light,

And morning suns of many centuries

Recall their glory. Here shall shepherds tell

To passing travellers, when we are dust,

How, by the shores of reedy Thrasymene,

We fought and conquered, while the earthquake shook

The walls of Rome.