Your proud banner and your ardent courage--
your strong hand--a victor's, Victoria's--
rendered all their efforts and schemes useless--
in these were revealed true strength, scorn, and wrath.
Before your invulnerability
war's flaming maddened desires were spent;
you bled profusely, painfully, to close
off our cities, rivers, mountains, and plains.
The cause was no star, no luck, no-one else--
it was strength, speed, character, and genius
made all you undertook end happily.
Noble on earth, radiant in heaven:
these are your worthy eternal rewards:
the world's prizes cannot pay a real Mars.
|An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition|
From R XVI:55. See also V III:3; B A1, 5, 5; Visconti III, 3 Translation: Roscoe, 91 Key