Next came Messapus, tamer of the steed, Great Neptune's son.

Fire nor the steel's sharp stroke Could lay him lifeless, so the Fates decreed.
Grasping his sword, a laggard race he woke, Disused to war, and tardy to provoke.
Behind him throng Fescennia's ranks to fight, Men from Flavinia, and Faliscum's folk, And those whom fair Capena's groves delight, Ciminius' mount and lake, and steep Soracte's height.
XCIV.

With measured tramp, their monarch's praise they sing, Like snowy swans, the liquid clouds among, Which homeward from their feeding ply the wing, When o'er Cayster's marish, loud and long, The echoes float of their melodious song.
None, sure, such countless multitudes would deem The mail-clad warriors of an armed throng: Nay, rather, like a dusky cloud they seem Of sea-fowl, landward driven with many a hoarse-voiced scream.
XCV.

Lo, Clausus next; a mighty host he led, Himself a host.

From Sabine sires he came, And Latium thence the Claudian house o'erspread, When Romans first with Sabines dared to claim Coequal lordship and a share of fame.
With Amiternus came Eretum's band; From fair Velinus' dewy fields they came, From olive-crowned Mutusca, from the land Where proud Nomentum's towers the fruitful plains command.
XCVI.