'Neath the outcry of scorn, 'neath the sinewy tension and hurl,
The moaning died slowly, and still they massed over the girl
A mountain of shields! and the gemmy hight tangle in links,
A torrent-like gush, pouring out on the grass from the chinks,
Pyramidal gold! the sumptuous monument won
By the deed they had loved her for, doing, and loathed her for, done.
Such was the wage that they paid her, such the acclaim:
All Rome was aroused with the thunder that buried her shame.
On surged the Sabini to battle. O you that aspire!
Tarpeia the traitor had fill of her woman's desire.
Woe: lightly to part with one's soul as the sea with its foam!
Woe to Tarpeia, Tarpeia, daughter of Rome!
Louise Imogen Guiney.