Seven mighty eagles with their talons fierce,
Who, waving oft above our consul’s head,
At last with hideous cry did soar away:
When suddenly old Marius aghast,
With reverend smile, determin’d with a sigh
The doubtful silence of the standers-by.
“Romans,” he said, “old Marius must die:
These seven fair eagles, birds of mighty Jove,
That at my birthday on my cradle sat,
Now at my last day warn me to my death.”