forth again a brood_
_Unshakeable, we pray, that clings,_
_To Rome's thrice-hammered hardihood--_
_In arduous things._

_Strong heart with triple armour bound,_
_Beat strongly, for thy life-blood runs,_
_Age after Age, the Empire round--_
_In us thy Sons,_

_Who, distant from the Seven Hills,_
_Loving and serving much, require_
_Thee, Thee to guard 'gainst home-born ills,_
_The Imperial Fire!_

ON THE GREAT WALL

ON THE GREAT WALL

When I left Rome for Lalage's sake
By the Legions' Road to Rimini,
She vowed her heart was mine to take
With me and my shield to Rimini--
(Till the Eagles flew from Rimini!)
And I've tramped Britain and I've tramped Gaul
And the Pontic shore where the snow-flakes fall
As white as the neck of Lalage--
As cold as the heart of Lalage!
And I've lost Britain and I've lost Gaul

(the voice seemed very cheerful about it),

And I've lost Rome, and worst of all,
I've lost Lalage!

They were standing by the gate to Far Wood when they heard this song.
Without a word they hurried to their private gap and wriggled through the
hedge almost atop of a jay that was feeding from Puck's hand.

'Gently!' said Puck. 'What are you looking for?'

'Parnesius, of course,' Dan answered. 'We've only just remembered
yesterday. It isn't fair.'

Puck chuckled as he rose. 'I'm sorry, but children who spend the afternoon
with me and a Roman Centurion need a little settling dose of Magic before
they go to tea with their governess. Ohe, Parnesius!' he called.

'Here, Faun!' came the answer from 'Volaterrae.' They could see the
shimmer of bronze armour in the beech crotch, and the friendly flash of
the great shield uplifted.

'I have driven out the Britons.' Parnesius laughed like a boy. 'I occupy
their high forts. But Rome is merciful! You may come up.' And up they
three all scrambled.

'What was the song you were singing just now?' said Una, as soon as she
had settled herself.

'That? Oh, _Rimini_. It's one of the tunes that are always being born
somewhere in the Empire. They run like a pestilence for six months or a
year, till another one pleases the Legions, and then they march to
_that_.'

'Tell them about the marching, Parnesius. Few people nowadays walk from
end to end of this country,' said Puck.

'The greater their loss. I know nothing better than the Long Marc