Poetry By
Cory Swainston
Published on: 12/7/2004
The Oath of the Horatii
Bow down proud brothers. Hear your noble fate. O ye who live to best a worthy foe, Horatii, warriors skilled of hoi polloi, We ye beseech, defend our city's gate lest we be forced to enter nuisance war. Take ye these arms and smite the loathsome fiends from neighbor Alba whom our ruler deems an enemy worth conquering henceforth, then watch your brothers fall while masses cheer and slay the man betrothed to sister's love. Ye hooded birds who cling to falc'ners glove, ye wretched dogs in serfdom to the spear, shed blood to spread the callous cause of kings; let Venus weep while haughty Pluto sings.
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