O’erleapt, and swept the Italian plain,
And gained the field of Thrasymene,
And Cannæ’s dreadful fight;
Undaunted midst the wild uproar,
That voice rose louder than before,
“Delenda est Carthago.”
This was the watchword of our sires,
When Britain, modern Carthage, tried
To drown them in a crimson tide,
Midst tribulation’s fires: