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Manlius

Манлий

Manlius was thrown down,
The ruling few preserved their wealth,
Their power remains as dour,
As the Tarpeian Rock itself.

Like the waves Rome was roughing,
Cries were cutting through the gloom,
But the man was gently laughing,
Falling down to meet his doom.

Why, oh why then, who can tell us,
Sunlit in a midday haze,
Is there a sight of frowning Marius
With his blood-stained sword ablaze?


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