The Migrations PeriodThe Rome of old is fallen,The Migrations Period2 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The Gallic plains are open wide,
The Alpine mountains ringing
With the crashing of our tide,
Our fierce deluge is upon you.
For all your Latin pride,
We humble sons of Teutons
Have cast your rule aside.
Rome is but a bygone thought,
All who knew it we have slain;
Never have those Latin fields
Known such a bitter rain!
The statues of your Caesars,
Have all come crashing down
Their gold diadems bartered;
For our iron Lombard crown.
Your Gaul that was once a nation
By the name, “Francia,” now is called.
Where once stood your plantations,
Now stand our kings’ fine beer-halls.
Where once your proud sons gathered
To recite old Attic dialogues
Our skalds now roughly smatter
Rough songs of our chiefs and gods.
Even in white-cliffed Britain
Seemingly so safe across the sea
Our brethren, Saxons and Angles,
Had built an Angle-land, we see.
Oh, how the whole world trembles,
As when a comet tears the skies;
Their ruined Empire is in shambles
As our proud