XI

 
Mars, now ashamed to have granted power
To his offspring who, with mortal frailty,
Engorged with pride in Rome’s bravery,
Looked to infringe on Heaven’s grandeur,

Cooling again from his initial ardour,
With which Roman hearts he’d filled completely,
Blew new fires, with ardent breath, and fiercely,
Warmed the chilly Goths with his hot valour.

That new-born nation, the new sons of Earth,
With war’s lightning bolts creating dearth,
Beat down these fine walls, on every hand,

Then vanished to the countries of their birth,
That not even Jove’s sire, in all his worth,
Might boast a Roman Empire in this land.