That clung to them and smiled,
And sick men borne in litters 110
High on the necks of slaves,
And troops of sunburnt husbandmen
With reaping-hooks and staves,


XV

And droves of mules and asses
Laden with skins of wine, 115
And endless flocks of goats and sheep,
And endless herds of kine,
And endless trains of wagons
That creaked beneath the weight
Of corn-sacks and of household goods, 120
Choked every roaring gate.


XVI

Now, from the rock Tarpeian,[23]
Could the wan burghers spy
The line of blazing villages
Red in the midnight sky. 125
The Fathers[24] of the City,
They sat all night and day,
For every hour some horseman came
With tidings of dismay.