In her pure heart received the fatal knife,
Preferring death to a dishonor'd life.
Upon that bank in youthful beauty stood
The virgin Clœlia, when with high disdain
She scorn'd Porsenna's pow'r, and deem'd the flood
Was easier to stem than tyrant's chain
Could be endured; and there the multitude
Of foes on Cocles fiercely press'd in vain,
There, one 'gainst thousands, he maintain'd his post,
And foil'd the foremost of Etruria's host.