The troubled river knew them,<BR> And smoothed his yellow foam,<BR>And gently rocked the cradle<BR> That bore the fate of Rome.<BR>The ravening she-wolf knew them,<BR> And licked them o&#039;er and o&#039;er,<BR>And gave them of her own fierce milk,<BR> Rich with raw flesh and gore.<BR>Twenty winters, twenty springs,<BR> Since then have rolled away;<BR>And to-day the dead are living:<BR> The lost are found to-day.<BR><BR>