Horace, Seventh Epode Poem by James Clerk Maxwell

Horace, Seventh Epode

Rating: 3.1


Whither, whither, reckless Romans,
Are you rushing, sword in hand?
Has not yet the blood of brothers,
Fully stained the sea and land?

Not that raging conflagration
Should o’er fallen Carthage play;
Not that the unconquered Briton
Should descend the sacred way.

"Rome," exclaims the joyful Parthian,
"Ruin for herself prepares;
Wolves with wolves are never savage,
Lion lion never tears."

Is this fury? is it madness?
Speedy answer I demand;
Foolish, blinded, guilty Romans,
Silent, stupefied you stand. [590]

Thus ’tis fated, blood of brothers
Must atone for brothers’ guilt,
Since the blood of injured Remus
Romulus in anger spilt.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Uche Nwanze 14 September 2019

' is this fury? Is it madness? Speedy answer I demand' A fascinating piece of poetry deserving of POD

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Uche Nwanze 14 September 2019

' Is this fury? Is it madness? Speedy answer I demand' A fascinating poem deserving of POD

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Panagiota Romios 14 September 2019

Well written, I see you know history...Good for you.

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Egbebi Mariam 14 September 2019

I like the way you use metaphor in your poem. Keep it

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Edward Kofi Louis 14 September 2019

Sword in hand! ! Ready to kill. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.

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Mahtab Bangalee 14 September 2020

Wolves with wolves are never savage, Lion lion never tears." ........it's great expressive poem; beautifully crafted; wise expression; something I feel it's historical poem

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paul amrod 14 September 2020

Actually a protest war poem over the brutality of a autocratic Rome.

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Hannatu Adamu 14 September 2020

When will the " blood of brothers" cease to be shed? Great piece!

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Ruta Mohapatra 14 September 2020

The rhyming is too good! It is so sing song!

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Andrew Blakemore 14 September 2020

A great poem of historical importance.

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