Lo! Clausus there, the Sabines’ boast, Leads a great host, himself a host; Whence spreads the Claudian race, since Rome With Sabine burghers shared her home. 30 With him the Amiternians came And Cures’ sons of ancient name, The squadron that Eretum guards And green Mutusca’s olive-yards. Those whom Nomentum’s city yields, 35 Who till Velinus’ Rosean fields, Who Tetrica’s rude summit climb Or on Severus sits sublime, Or dwell where runs Hemella by Casperia’s walls and Foruli, 40 Who Tiber haunt and Fabaris’ banks, Whom Nursia sends to battle down From her cold home, Hortinian ranks And Latian tribes of old renown, With those whom Allia’s stream ill-starred Flows through, dividing sward from sward: 5 Thick as the Libyan billows swarm When fell Orion sets in storm, Or as the sun-baked ears of grain In Hæmus’ field or Lycia’s plain; Their bucklers rattle, and the ground 10 Quakes, startled by their footfall’s sound. Halæsus, Agamemnon’s mate, Who hates all Troy with liegeman’s hate, Yokes his swift horses to the car, And brings his hosts to Turnus’ war, 15 The rustic tribes whose ploughshare tills The vine-clad slopes of Massic hills, Sent from Auruncan heights, or bound From Sidicinian champaign-ground, Who fertile Cales leave behind 20 Or where Vulturnian waters wind, Saticule’s tenants, rough and rude, And all the hardy Oscan brood. Spiked truncheons they are wont to fling, But fit them with a leathern string: 25 A target shields the good left hand, And curved like primer’s hook the brand They wield when foot to foot they stand. Nor, Œbalus, shalt thou pass by Unnamed in this our minstrelsy, 30 Born to old Telon, Capreæ’s king, By Naiad of Sebethus’ spring; The son contemned his sire’s domain, And stretched o’er neighbouring lands his reign. Sarrastes’ tribes his rule obey, 35 And fields where Sarnus’ waters play, Who Batulum and Rufræ hold Or till Celennæ’s fruitful mould, Or those whom fair Abella sees Down-looking through her apple-trees, 40 All wont in Teuton sort to throw Nail-studded maces ’gainst the foe; Their helm of bark from cork-tree peeled, Of brass their sword, of brass their shield. Thee too steep Nersæ sends to war 5 Brave Ufens, born ’neath happy star: Hard as their clods the Æquian race, Inured to labour in the chase; In armour sheathed, they till their soil, Heap foray up, and live by spoil. 10