Wasted all the fruitful soil—then the Roman swords
Leagued with Gallic pike and sling, held the red frontier,
Saved the cradle of our folk, all that we hold dear.
Now above the towers that rise where Rome’s great eagles flew,
Circle dauntless aeroplanes to guard their folk anew.
Gods who loved the sons of Mars found in field and wood
Altars built with reverent care—saw the work was good.
Simple, brave and generous, quick to speech and mirth;
Loving all the pleasant ways of the kindly earth;
Thus they built the stately walls that still unfallen stand.