XII
NEAR THE LAKE OF THRASYMENE
When here with Carthage Rome to conflict came,[124]
An earthquake, mingling with the battle’s shock,
Checked not its rage;[125] unfelt the ground did rock,
Sword dropped not, javelin kept its deadly aim.—
Now all is sun-bright peace. Of that day’s shame, 5
Or glory, not a vestige seems to endure,
Save in this Rill that took from blood the name[126]
Which yet it bears, sweet Stream! as crystal pure.
So may all trace and sign of deeds aloof