When mighty Rome was conqueror,
'Twas Scipio led the van of fighting;
Old Fabius was her counselor;
And Titus Livius did her writing.

And not a maid or wife but came
And stripped the ornaments from off her,
To offer them for warlike fame
And save her country from dishonor.

Where none there be to rule the town
How soon its triumph will be ended!
How soon the roof-tree tumble down
Where not a dweller is attended!

When pigs without the dogs to herd
Will straggle quick to their perdition,
Can troops without a captain's word
Be long maintained in war-condition?

For sheep without a shepherd's rod
Will lay in waste both field and garden;
And monks that know no prior's nod
Will fall to sins beyond a pardon.

The vineyards left unwatched to grow
Unto each passer-by will yield them;
The courts where gallants never show
Are hands that have no gloves to shield them.

The shoe that fares without a sole
Can ill preserve the foot that wears it,
The strings escaped the lute's control
Will make a sound—if you can bear it—

The church that boasts no lettered throng,
Like palace without walls, must tremble;
Who looks for fish both big and strong
Save where the firmest nets dissemble?

In faith, that blow me-seemeth light
Of which a swordless hand is giver;—
But a sword without a hand of might,
Full little thrust will it deliver!