Beare 1964 - Tacitus On German
Beare 1964 - Tacitus On German
Beare 1964 - Tacitus On German
Author(s): W. Beare
Source: Greece & Rome , Mar., 1964, Vol. 11, No. 1 (Mar., 1964), pp. 64-76
Published by: Cambridge University Press on behalf of The Classical Association
JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide
range of content in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and
facilitate new forms of scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact support@jstor.org.
Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at
https://about.jstor.org/terms
The Classical Association and Cambridge University Press are collaborating with JSTOR to
digitize, preserve and extend access to Greece & Rome
Take back this message from far away to careless Rome at its work and play,
You are all that's left of our army, say, of our twenty thousand men;
Say that you saw us in the wood, where the Roman eagles are trampled in
mud;
And from Rhine to Rome it's an open road-they'll listen perhaps to you then.
Three legions struck from the muster-roll, three numbers for ever blank in
the scroll;
And the priestess waits with her knife and the bowl which the blood of Rome
must fill.
And behind our backs our hands are tied, and they move us up to the altar's
side-
One last salute from the men who died to the house on the Palatine
Where a lonely emperor calls in vain for Varus to lead us home agai
'Give back my legions to me again!'-but he looks in the face of doom
And he hears the din of a distant day, and the tramp of the Goths
Sacred Way,
And above the war the hammer of Thor in the flaming skies of Rom
Their funerals are free from pomp; the only rule is that the bodi
their famous men shall be burned with certain kinds of wood. They h
garments nor spices on the pyre; they throw on the flames the man
weapons, and sometimes the body of his horse. A mound of turf fo
tomb; the high and laborious honour of a monument they dislike, a
but a burden to the dead. They are soon done with wailing and tears
slow to end their grief and sorrow. They think it fitting that women
mourn, and that men should remember.