E'en the rude seas compos'd forget to roar,
And freezing billows stiffen on the shore.

4

The colder shades of night forsook the sky,
When, lo! Bellona lifts her torch on high:
And if the chief, by doubt or shame detain'd,
Awhile from battle and from blood abstain'd;
Fortune and fate, impatient of delay,
Force every soft relenting thought away.
A lucky chance a fair pretence supplies,
And justice in his favour seems to rise.
New accidents new stings to rage suggest,
And fiercer fires inflame the warrior's breast.
The senate threatening high, and haughty grown,
Had driven the wrangling tribunes from the town;
In scorn of law, had chas'd them through the gate,
And urg'd them with the factious Gracchi's fate.
With these, as for redress their course they sped
To Cæsar's camp, the busy Curio fled;
Curio, a speaker turbulent and bold,
Of venal eloquence, that serv'd for gold,
And principles that might be bought and sold.
A tribune once himself, in loud debate,
He strove for public freedom and the state:
Essay'd to make the warring nobles bow,
And bring the potent party-leaders low.
To Cæsar thus, while thousand cares infest,
Revolving round, the warrior's anxious breast,
His speech the ready orator addrest:
"While yet my voice was useful to my friend;
While 't was allow'd me, Cæsar to defend,
While yet the pleading bar was left me free,
While I could draw uncertain Rome to thee;
In vain their force the moody fathers join'd,
In vain to rob thee of thy power combin'd;
1 lengthen'd out the date of thy command,
And fix'd thy conquering sword within thy hand.
But since the vanquish'd laws in war are dumb,
To thee, behold, an exil'd band we come;
For thee, with joy our banishment we take,
For thee our houshold hearths and gods forsake;
Nor hope to see our native city more,
Till victory and thou the loss restore.
Th' unready faction, yet confus'd with fear,
Defenceless, weak, and unresolv'd, appear;
Haste then thy towering eagles on their way:
When fair occasion calls, 't is fatal to delay.
If twice five years the stubborn Gaul withheld,
And set thee hard in many a well-fought field;
A nobler labour now before thee lies,
The hazard less, yet greater far the prize:
A province that, and portion of the whole;
This the vast head that does mankind control.
Success shall sure attend thee, boldly go
And win the world at one successful blow,
No triumph now attends thee at the gate;
No temples for thy sacred laurel wait:
But blasting envy hangs upon thy name,
Denies thee right, and robs thee of thy fame;
Imputes as crimes, the nations overcome,
And makes it treason to have fought for Rome:
E'en he who took thy Julia's plighted hand,
Waits to deprive thee of thy just command.
Since Pompey then, and those upon his side,
Forbid thee, the world's empire to divide;
Assume that sway which best mankind may bear,
And rule alone what they disdain to share.”

He said; his words the listening chief engage,
And fire his breast, already prone to rage.
Not peals of loud applause with greater force,
At Grecian Elis, rouse the fiery horse;

When eager for the course each nerve he strains,
Hangs on the bit, and tugs the stubborn reins,
At every shout erects his quivering ears,
And his broad breast upon the barrier bears.
Sudden he bids the troops draw out, and straight
The thronging legions round their ensigns wait:
Then thus, the crowd composing with a look,
And, with his hand commanding silence, spoke:
"Fellows in arms, who chose with me to bear
The toils and dangers of a tedious war,
And conquer to this tenth revolving year;
See what reward the grateful senate yield,
For the lost blood which stains yon northern field;
For wounds, for winter camps, for Alpine snow,
And all the deaths the brave can undergo.
See! the tumultuous city is alarm'd,
As if another Hannibal were arm'd:
The lusty youth are cull'd to fill the bands,
And each tall grove falls by the shipwright's
hands;

Fleets are equipp'd, the field with armies spread,
And all demand devoted Cæsar's head.

If thus, while Fortune yields us her applause,
While the gods call us on and own our cause,
If thus returning conquerors they treat,
How had they us'd us flying from defeat;
If fickle chance of war had prov'd unkind,
And the fierce Gauls pursued us from behind!
But let their boasted hero leave his home,
Let him, dissolv'd with lazy leisure, come,
With every noisy talking tongue in Rome:
Let loud Marcellus troops of gown-men head,
And their great Cato peaceful burghers lead.
Shall his base followers, a venal train,
For ages, bid their idol Pompey reign?
Shall his ambition still be thought no crime,
His breach of laws, and triumph ere the time?
Still shall he gather honours and command,
And grasp all rule in his rapacious hand?
What need I name the violated laws,
And famine made the servant of his cause?
Who knows not, how the trembling judge beheld
The peaceful court with armed legions fill'd;
When the bold soldier, justice to defy,
In the mid forum rear'd his ensigns high;
When glittering swords the pale assembly scar'd,
When all for death and slaughter stood prepar'd,
And Pompey's arms were guilty Milo's guard?
And now, disdaining peace and needful ease,
Nothing but rule and government can please.
Aspiring still, as ever, to be great,
He robs his age of rest, to vex the state:
On war intent, to that he bends his cares,
And for the field of battle now prepares.
He copies from his master Sylla well,
And would the dire example far excel.
Hyrcanian tigers fierceness thus retain,
Whom in the woods their horrid mothers train,
To chase the herds, and surfeit on the slain.
Such, Pompey, still has been thy greedy thirst,
In early love of impious slaughter nurst;
Since first thy infant cruelty essay'd
To lick the curst dictator's reeking blade.
None ever give the salvage nature o'er,
Whose jaws have once been drench'd in floods of

[gore.

"But whither would a power so wide extend?
Where will thy long ambition find an end?
Remember him who taught thee to be great;
Let him who chose to quit the sovereign seat,
Let thy own Sylla warn thee to retreat.

Each left his guardian Lares unador'd,
Nor with one parting prayer their aid implor'd:
None stopp'd, or sighing turn'd for one last view,
Or bid the city of his birth adieu.

The headlong crowd regardless urge their way,
Though e'en their gods and country ask their stay,
And pleading nature beg them to delay.

What means, ye gods! this changing in your
doom?

Freely you grant, but quickly you resume.
Vain is the short-liv'd sovereignty you lend;
The pile you raise you deign not to defend.
See where, forsaken by her native bands,
All desolate the once great city stands!
She whom her swarming citizens made proud,
Where once the vanquish'd nations wont to crowd,
Within the circuit of whose ample space
Mankind might meet at once, and find a place;
A wide defenceless desert now she lies,
And yields herself the victor's easy prize.
The camp intrench'd securest slumbers yields,
Though hostile arms beset the neighbouring fields;
Rude banks of earth the hasty soldier rears,
And in the turfy wall forgets his fears:
While, Rome, thy sons all tremble from afar,
And scatter at the very name of war;
Nor on thy towers depend, nor rampart's height,
Nor trust their safety with thee for a night.
Yet one excuse absolv'd the panic dread;
The vulgar justly fear'd when Pompey fled.
And, lest sweet hope might mitigate their woes,
And expectation better times disclose,
On every breast presaging terrour sate,
And threaten'd plain some yet more dismal fate.
The gods declare their menaces around,
Earth, air, and seas, in prodigies abound;
Then stars, unknown before, appear'd to burn,
And foreign flames about the pole to turn;
Unusual fires by night were seen to fly,
And dart obliquely through the gloomy sky.
Then horrid comets shook their fatal hair,
And bade proud royalty for change prepare:
Now dart swift lightnings through the azure clear,
And meteors now in various forms appear:
Some like the javelin shoot extended long, [hung.
While some like spreading lamps in Heaven are
And though no gathering clouds the day control,
Through skies serene portentous thunders roll;
Fierce blasting bolts from northern regions come,
And aim their vengeance at imperial Rome.
The stars, that twinkled in the lonely night,
Now lift their bolder head in day's broad light.
The Moon, in all her brother's beams array'd,
Was blotted by the Earth's approaching shade:
The Sun himself, in his meridian race,
In sable darkness veil'd his brighter face;
The trembling world beheld his fading ray,
And mourn'd despairing for the loss of day.
Such was he seen, when backward to the east
He fled, abhorring dire Thyestes' feast.
Sicilian Etna then was heard to roar,
While Mulciber let loose his fiery store;
Nor rose the flames, but with a downward tide
Tow'rds Italy their burning torrent guide;
Charybdis' dogs howl doleful o'er the flood,
And all her whirling waves run red with blood;
The vestal fire upon the altar dy'd,
And o'er the sacrifice the flames divide;
The parting points with double streams ascend,
To show the Latian festivals must end;

Such from the Theban brethren's pile arose,
Signal of impious and immortal foes.
With openings fast the gaping earth gave way,
And in her inmost womb receiv'd the day.
The swelling seas o'er lofty mountains flow,
And nodding Alps shook off their ancient snow.
Then wept the demigods of mortal birth,
And sweating Lares trembled on the hearth.
In temples then, recording stories tell,
Untouch'd the sacred gifts and garlands fell.
Then birds obscene, with inauspicious flight,
And screamings dire, prophan'd the hallow'd light.
The salvage kind forsook the desert wood,
Aud in the streets disclos'd their horrid brood.
Then speaking beasts with human sounds were
heard,

And monstrous births the teeming mothers scar'd.
Among the crowd, religious fears disperse
The saws of Sybils, and foreboding verse.
Bellona's priests, a barbarous frantic train,
Whose mangled arms a thousand wounds distain,
Toss their wild locks, and, with a dismal yell,
The wrathful gods and coming woes foretel.
Lamenting ghosts amidst their ashes mourn,
And groanings echo from the marble urn.
The rattling clank of arms is heard around,
And voices loud in lonely woods resound.
Grim spectres every where affright the eye,
Approaching glare, and pass with horrour by.
A fury fierce about the city walks,
Hell-born, and horrible of size, she stalks:
A flaming pine she brandishes in air,
And hissing loud up-rise her snaky hair:
Where'er her round accurst the monster takes,
The pale inhabitant his house forsakes.
Such to Lycurgus was the phantom seen,
Such the dire visions of the Theban queen;
Such, at his cruel stepmother's command,
Before Alcides, did Megæra stand:
With dread, till then unknown, the hero shook,
Though he had dar'd on Hell's grim king to look,
Amidst the deepest silence of the night,
Shrill-sounding clarions animate the fight;
The shouts of meeting armies seem to rise,
And the loud battle shakes the gloomy skies.
Dead Sylla in the Martian field ascends,
And mischiefs mighty as his own portends.
Near Anio's stream old Marius rears his head;
The hinds beheld his grisly form, and fled.

[sky;

The state thus threaten'd, by old custom taught,
For counsel to the Tuscan prophets sought:
Of these the chief for learning fam'd, and age,
Aruns by name, a venerable sage,
At Luna liv'd; none better could descry
What bodes the lightning's journey through the
Presaging veins and fibres well he knew,
And omens read aright, from every wing that flew.
First he commands to buru the monstrous breed,
Sprung from mix'd species, and discordant seed;
Forbidden and accursed births, which come
Where Nature's laws design'd a barren womb.
Next, the remaining trembling tribes he calls,
To pass with solemn rites about their walls,
In holy march to visit all around,

And with lustrations purge the utmost bound.
The sovereign priests the long procession lead,
Inferior orders in the train succeed,
Array'd all duly in the Gabine weed.
There the chaste head of Vesta's choir appears,
A sacred fillet binds her reverend hairs;

To her, in sole pre-eminence, is due,
Phrygian Minerva's awful shrine to view.
Next the fifteen in order pass along,
Who guard the fatal Sybils' secret song:
To Almon's stream Cybele's form they bear,
And wash the goddess each returning year.
The Titian brotherhood, the Augurs' band,
Observing flights on the left lucky hand;
The seven ordain'd Jove's holy feast to deck;
The Salii blithe, with bucklers on the neck;
All marching in their order just appear:
And last the generous Flamens close the rear.
While these through ways uncouth, and tiresome
ground,

Patient perform their long laborious round,
Aruns collects the marks of Heaven's dread flame;
In earth he hides them with religious hand,
Murmurs a prayer, then gives the place a name,
And bids the fix'd bidental hallow'd stand.
Next from the herd a chosen male is sought,
And soon before the ready altar brought.
And now the seer the sacrifice began,
The pouring wine upon the victim ran;
The mingled meal upon his brow was plac'd;
The crooked knife the destin'd line had trac'd;
When with reluctant rage th' impatient beast
The rites unpleasing to the god confest.
At length compell'd his stubborn head to bow,
Vanquish'd he yields him to the fatal blow;
The gushing veins no cheerful crimson pour,
But stain with poisonous black the sacred floor.
The paler prophet stood with horrour struck;
Then with a hasty hand the entrails took,
And sought the angry gods again; but there
Prognostics worse, and sadder signs, appear;
The pallid guts with spots were marbled o'er,
With thin cold serum stain'd, and livid gore;
The liver wet with putrid streams he spy'd,
And veins that threaten'd on the hostile side:
Part of the heaving lunes is no where found,
And thinner films the sever'd entrails bound;
No usual motion stirs the panting heart;
The chinky vessels ouze on every part;
The caul, where wrapt the close intestines lie,
Betrays its dark recesses to the eye.
One prodigy superior threaten'd still,
The never-failing harbinger of ill:
Lo! by the fibrous liver's rising head,
A second rival prominence is spread;
All sunk and poor the friendly part appears,
And a pale, sickly, withering visage wears;
While high and full the adverse vessels ride,
And drive, impetuous, on their purple tide.
Amaz'd, the sage foresaw th' impending fate;
"Ye gods!" (he cry'd) “ forbid me to relate
What woes on this devoted people wait.
Nor dost thou, Jove, in these our rites partake,
Nor smile propitious on the prayer we make;
The dreadful Stygian gods this victim claim,
And to our sacrifice the Furies came.
The ills we fear command us to be dumb;

But Figulus exclaims (to science bred,
And in the gods mysterious secrets read;
Whom nor Ægyptian Memphis' sons excell'd,
Nor with more skill the rolling orbs beheld:
Well could he judge the labours of the sphere,
And calculate the just revolving year).
"The stars" (he cries)" are in confusion hurl'd,
And wandering errour quite misguides the world;
Or, if the laws of Nature yet remain,
Some swift destruction now the Fates ordain.
Shall earth's wide-opening jaws for ruin call,
And sinking cities to the centre fall?
Shall raging drought infest the sultry sky?
Shall faithless earth the promis'd crop deny?
Shall poisonous vapours o'er the waters brood,
And taint the limpid spring and silver flood?
Ye gods! what ruin does your wrath prepare!
Comes it from Heaven, from earth, from seas, or
The lives of many to a period haste,
[air?
And thousands shall together breathe their last.
If Saturn's sullen beams were lifted high,
And baneful reign'd ascendant o'er the sky,
Then moist Aquarius deluges might rain,
And earth once more lie sunk beneath the main:
Or did thy glowing beams, O Phoebus, shine
Malignant in the Lion's scorching sign,
Wide o'er the world consuming fires might roll,
And Heaven be seen to flame from pole to pole:
Through peaceful orbits these unangry glide,
But, God of Battles! what dost thou provide?
Who in the threatening Scorpion dost preside?
With potent wrath around thy influence streams,
And the whole monster kindles at thy beams:
While Jupiter's more gentle rays decline,
And Mercury with Venus faintly shine;
The wandering lights are darken'd all and gone,
And Mars now lords it o'er the Heavens alone.
Orion's starry falchion blazing wide,
Refulgent glitters by his dreadful side.
War comes, and salvage slaughter must abound,
The sword of violence shall right confound;
The blackest crime fair virtue's name shall wear,
And impious fury rage for many a year.
Yet ask not thou an end of arms, O Rome,
Thy peace must with a lordly master come.
Protract destruction, and defer thy chain,
The sword alone prevents the tyrant's reign,
And civil wars thy liberty maintain."

The heartless vulgar to the sage give heed,
New rising fears his words foreboding breed.
When, lo! more dreadful wonders strike their eyes,
Forth through the streets a Roman matron flies,
Mad as the Thracian dames that bound along,
And chant Lyæus in their frantic song:
Enthusiastic heavings swell'd her breast,
And thus her voice the Delphic god confest:
"Where dost thou snatch me, Paan! wherefore
bear

Through cloudy heights and tracts of pathless air?
I see Pangean mountains white with snow,
Emus and wide Philippi's fields below.

Yet somewhat worse than what we fear shall Say, Phoebus, wherefore does this fury rise?