Anne Charlotte Lynch Botta - Tarpeia lyrics

"Give me the bracelets that your warriors wear," The Roman traitress to the Sabine cried, "Give me the toys, and I will be your guide, And to your host the city's gates unbar." Then to the walls each eager warrior rushed, And on the base Tarpeia as he pa**ed, Each from his arm the ma**ive circlet cast, Till her slight form beneath the weight was crushed. Thus are our idle wishes. Thus we sigh For some imagined good yet unattained;-- For wealth, or fame, or love, and which once gained May like a curse o'er all our future lie. Thus in our blindness do we ask of fate, The gifts that once bestowed may crush us with their weight.