Horatio on the bridge poem. Horatius At The Bridge by William F Kirk 2022-11-20
Horatio on the bridge poem Rating:
"Horatio on the Bridge" is a poem that tells the story of a young man named Horatio who is standing on a bridge, looking out at the world around him and contemplating his place in it. The poem is written in the first person, with Horatio speaking directly to the reader, and it is full of imagery and symbolism that help to convey the themes and ideas that the poet is trying to express.
One of the most striking aspects of the poem is the way in which it captures the sense of isolation and loneliness that Horatio feels as he stands on the bridge. The bridge itself is described as a "lonely span," and Horatio is the only person there, looking out at the world and feeling disconnected from it. This sense of isolation is further reinforced by the imagery of the water below the bridge, which is described as "black and deep" and "unfathomable," suggesting that Horatio feels as though he is standing on the edge of something vast and unknown.
At the same time, however, the poem also suggests that Horatio is drawn to this sense of isolation and loneliness, and that he finds a certain beauty in it. The bridge is described as a "glorious perch," and Horatio speaks of the "exalted solitude" that he feels there. This suggests that Horatio finds something appealing in the idea of being alone, and that he is drawn to the bridge as a place where he can find a sense of peace and contemplation.
Ultimately, the poem suggests that Horatio is searching for something, although it is not entirely clear what this is. He speaks of the "enigma" of the world, and of the "mysteries" that he hopes to uncover as he stands on the bridge. This suggests that Horatio is a deeply curious and introspective person, and that he is looking for answers to the big questions that we all face at some point in our lives.
Overall, "Horatio on the Bridge" is a beautifully written and thought-provoking poem that explores themes of isolation, loneliness, and the search for meaning in life. It speaks to the universal human experience of feeling disconnected from the world around us, and of the desire to find our place in it. Whether or not Horatio ultimately finds the answers he is looking for, the poem serves as a reminder of the importance of taking time to reflect and to contemplate the mysteries of the world.
Horatius at the Bridge
Horatio: O day and night, but this is wondrous strange! It is admitted that you were briefly in action against certain unfriendly elements on that day. But the king refused to go quietly into the night; he enlisted the help of Lars Porsena of Clusium in an attempt overthrow the new Roman government and re-establish his reign. No sound of joy or sorrow was heard from either bank; But friends and foes in dumb surprise, with parted lips and straining eyes, Stood gazing where he sank; And when above the surges they saw his crest appear, All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry, and even the ranks of Tuscany Could scarce forbear to cheer. But when they turned their faces, And on the farther shore Saw brave Horatius stand alone, They would have crossed once more; But with a crash like thunder Fell every loosened beam, And, like a dam, the mighty wreck Lay right athwart the stream; And a long shout of triumph Rose from the walls of Rome, As to the highest turret-tops Was splashed the yellow foam. Now who will stand on either hand, And keep the bridge with me? But by the yellow Tiber Was tumult and affright: From all the spacious champaign To Rome men took their flight.
No more Campania's hinds shall fly to woods and caverns when they spy Thy thrice-accursed sail. And now he feels the bottom; Now on dry earth he stands; Now round him throng the Fathers; To press his gory hands; And now, with shouts and clapping, And noise of weeping loud, He enters through the River-Gate Borne by the joyous crowd. Herminius smote down Aruns: Lartius laid Ocnus low: Right to the heart of Lausulus Horatius sent a blow. Never, I ween, did swimmer. In yon strait path a thousand May well be stopped by three. Nevertheless, Darkest Hour takes us into the Underground.
Here is pardon's pledge and token, Guilt's strong chain forever broken, Righteous peace securely made; Brightens now the brow once shaded, Freshens now the face once faded, Peace with God now makes us glad. But fiercely ran the current, 510 Swollen high by months of rain; And fast his blood was flowing, And he was sore in pain, And heavy with his armor, And spent with changing blows; 515 And oft they thought him sinking, But still again he rose. He is the one who tells Hamlets about the ghost and the one who will tell his story. And plainly and more plainly Now through the gloom appears, Far to left and far to right, In broken gleams of dark-blue light, The long array of helmets bright, The long array of spears. No sound of joy or sorrow Was heard from either bank, But friends and foes in dumb surprise, With parted lips and straining eyes, Stood gazing where he sank; And when above the surges They saw his crest appear, All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry, And even the ranks of Tuscany Could scarce forbear to cheer. On the house-tops was no woman But spat towards him and hissed, No child but screamed out curses, And shook its little fist.
A wild and wrathful clamour from all the vanguard rose. She has numerous articles and essays published. While multiple different authors tell the story of Horatius, it is unclear just how true the story is. A wild and wrathful clamor From all the vanguard rose. They gave him of the corn-land, That was of public right, As much as two strong oxen Could plough from morn till night; And they made a molten image, And set it up on high,— And there it stands unto this day To witness if I lie. I hope his soul has fled to heaven above,Where there is everlasting joy and love.
Horatio An esteemed army officer in the ancient Roman Republic, Horatius Cocles lived in a legendary period of Rome during the late sixth century. Shame on the false Etruscan Who lingers in his home, When Porsena of Clusium Is on the march for Rome. Then Porsena's men shouted also, for they had never seen a man so brave and strong as Horatius. Sir Consul, — Lars Porsena is here. The Horatius poem starts as Lars Porsena vows that the house of Tarquin will ''suffer wrong no more.
Verbenna down to Ostia hath wasted all the plain; Astur hath stormed Janiculum, and the stout guards are slain. The King and Queen, a loving bond they share, But the King by a mystic potion envenomed beware. Shame on the false Etruscan Who lingers in his home, 15 When Porsena of Clusium Is on the march for Rome! No sound of joy or sorrow Was heard from either bank; But friends and foes in dumb surprise, With parted lips and straining eyes, Stood gazing where he sank; And when above the surges, They saw his crest appear, All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry, And even the ranks of Tuscany Could scarce forbear to cheer. Forthwith up rose the Consul, Up rose the Fathers all; In haste they girded up their gowns, And hied them to the wall. The Fathers of the City, They sat all night and day, For every hour some horseman come With tidings of dismay. For Romans in Rome's quarrel Spared neither land nor gold, Nor son nor wife, nor limb nor life, In the brave days of old. But by the yellow Tiber Was tumult and affright; From all the spacious champaign To Rome men took their flight.
Elfinspell: Horatius at the Bridge, by Lord Macaulay, Americanized version, from Choice Readings for Public and Private Entertainments and for the Use of Schools, Colleges, and Public Readers, with Elocutionary Advice, Revised and Enlarged Edition, Edited by Robert McLean Cumnock; online text.
But when they turned their faces, And on the farther shore Saw brave Horatius stand alone, They would have crossed once more. Upon his ample shoulders clangs loud the four-fold shield, And in his hand he shakes the brand which none but he can wield. Here lies the Thrice looked he at the city; thrice looked he at the dead; And thrice came on in fury, and thrice turned back in dread: And, white with fear and hatred, scowled at the narrow way Where, wallowing in a pool of blood, the bravest Tuscans lay. To whom the Romans pray, A Roman's life, a Roman's arms, Take thou in charge to-day. . In yon strait path a thousand May well be stopped by three. Horatio poem Rosencrantz and Guildenstern is but yet called again, With discord and dismay, are they to seek that thou slain.
“Then Out Spake Brave Horatius”: A Review of “Darkest Hour”
To watch a video review of Darkest Hour by Hillsdale College President Larry P. I, with two more to help me, will hold the foe in play. Why dost thou stay, and turn away? And, like a horse unbroken When first he feels the rein, The furious river struggled hard, And tossed his tawny mane, And burst the curb and bounded, Rejoicing to be free, And whirling down, in fierce career, Battlement, and plank, and pier, Rushed headlong to the sea. Roosevelt and Churchill got their reputation from the final results of the depression and the war. The fog seemed to lift at that moment And all eyes were turned on the lad The Whippets seemed kind of dumbfounded While the Swifts started cheering like mad! With shield and blade Horatius Right deftly turned the blow. Sir Consul: Lars Porsena is here. Search and read the best famous Horatio poems, articles about Horatio poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Horatio poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.