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Now, I gain the mountain's brow,
What a landscape lies below!
No clouds, no vapors intervene;
But the gay, the open scene
Does the face of Nature show,
In all the hues of Heaven's bow !
And, swelling to embrace the light,
Spreads around beneath the sight.

Old castles on the cliffs arise,
Proudly lowering in the skies !
Rushing from the woods, the spires
Seem from hence ascending fires !
Half his beams Apollo sheds
On the yellow mountain-heads!
Gilds the fleeces of the flocks,
And glitters on the broken rocks!

Below me trees unnumber'd rise,
Beautiful in various dyes :
The gloomy pine, the poplar blue,
The yellow beach, the sable yew,
The slender fir that taper grows,
The sturdy oak with broad-spread boughs.
And beyond the purple grove,
Haunt of Phyllis, queen of love!
Gaudy as the opening dawn,
Lies a long and level lawn,
On which a dark hill, steep and high,
Holds and charms the wandering eye!
Deep are his feet in Towy's flood,
His sides are cloth'd with waving wood,
And ancient towers crown his brow,
That cast an awful look below;
Whose ragged walls the ivy creeps,
And with her arms from falling keeps ;
So both a safety from the wind
On mutual dependence find.
'Tis now the raven's bleak abode;
'Tis now th' apartment of the toad;
And there the fox securely feeds ;
And there the poisonous adder breeds,
Conceal'd in ruins, moss,

and weeds;
While, ever and anon, there falls
Huge heaps of hoary moulder'd walls.
Yet Time has seen, that lifts the low,
And level lays the lofty brow,
Has seen this broken pile complete,
Big with the vanity of state ;
But transient is the smile of Fate!
A little rule, a little sway,
A sunbeam in a winter's day,
Is all the proud and mighty have
Between the cradle and the grave.

And see the rivers how they run,
Through woods and meads, in shade and sun,
Sometimes swift, sometimes slow,
Wave succeeding wave, they go
A various journey to the deep,
Like human life, to endless sleep!
Thus is Nature's vesture wrought,
To instruct our wandering thought;
Thus she dresses green and gay,
To disperse our cares away.

Ever charming, ever new,
When will the landscape tire the view!
The fountain's fall, the river's flow,
The woody valleys, warm and low;
The windy summit, wild and high,
Roughly rushing on the sky!
The pleasant seat, the ruin'd tower,
The naked rock, the shady bower;

The town and village, dome and farm,
Each give each a double charm,
As pearls upon an Ethiop's arm.

See on the mountain's southern side,
Where the prospect opens wide,
Where the evening gilds the tide;
How close and small the hedges lie!
What streaks of meadows cross the eye!
A step methinks may pass the stream,
So little distant dangers seem;
So we mistake the Future's face,
Ey'd through Hope's deluding glass ;
As yon summit soft and fair,
Clad in colors of the air,
Which to those who journey near,
Barren, brown, and rough appear;
Still we tread the same coarse way
The present's still a cloudy day.

O may I with myself agree,
And never covet what I see;
Content me with an humble shade,
My passions tam'd, my wishes laid;
For, while our wishes wildly roll,
We banish quiet from the soul :
'Tis thus the busy beat the air,
And misers gather wealth and care.

Now, ev'n now, my joys run high,
As on the mountain-turf I lie ;
While the wanton Zephyr sings,
And in the vale perfumes his wings;
While the waters murmur deep;
While the shepherd charms his sheep;
While the birds unbounded Ay,
And with music fill the sky,
Now, ev'n now, my joys run high.

Be full, ye courts ; be great who will ;
Search for Peace with all your skill :
Open wide the lofty door,
Seek her on the marble floor.
In vain you search, she is not there;
In vain you search the domes of Care !
Grass and flowers Quiet treads,
On the meads, and mcuntain-heads,
Along with Pleasure, close allied,
Ever by each other's side;
And often, by the murmuring rill,
Hears the thrush, while all is still,
Within the groves of Grongar Hill.

THE RUINS OF ROME.

Aspice murorum moles, præruptaque saxa,

Obrutaque horrenti vesta theatra situ :
Hæc sunt Roma. Viden' velut ipsa cadavera tantæ
Urbis adhuc spirent imperiosa minas?

Janus Vitalis.
Enough of Grongar and the shady dales
of winding Towy: Merlin's fabled haunt
I sing inglorious. Now the love of arts,

And what in metal or in stone remains
or proud antiquity, through various realms
And various languages and ages fam'd,
Bears me remote, o'er Gallia's woody bounds,
O'er the cloud-piercing Alps remote ; beyond

The vale of Arno purpled with the vine,
Beyond the Umbrian and Etruscan hills,
To Latium's wide champain, forlorn and waste,
Where yellow Tiber his neglected wave

Mournfully rolls. Yet once again, my Muse, And intermingling vines; and figur'd nymphs, Yet once again, and soar a loftier flight;

Floras and Chloes of delicious mould, Lo, the resistless theme, imperial Rome.

Cheering the darkness; and deep empty tombs, Fall'n, fall'n, a silent heap; her heroes all And dells, and mouldering shrines, with old decay Sunk in their urns ; behold the pride of pomp, Rustic and green, and wide-embowering shades, The throne of nations fall’n ; obscur'd in dust; Shot from the crooked clefts of nodding towers. E'en yet majestical: the solemn scene

A solemn wilderness! with error sweet, Elates the soul, while now the rising Sun

I wind the lingering step, where'er the path Flames on the ruins in the purer air

Mazy conducts me, which the vulgar foot Towering aloft, upon the glittering plain, O'er sculptures maim'd has made ; Anubis, Sphinx Like broken rocks, a vast circumference: Idols of antique guise, and horned Pan, Rent palaces, crush'd columns, rifled moles, Terrific, monstrous shapes! preposterous gods Fanes rollid on fanes, and tombs on buried tombs. Of Fear and Ignorance, by the sculptor's hand Deep lies in dust the Theban obelisk

Hewn into form, and worshipp'd ; as e'en now Immense along the waste; minuter art,

Blindly they worship at their breathless mouthst Gliconian forms, or Phidian subtly fair,

In varied appellations: men to these O'erwhelming; as th' immense Leviathan (From depth to depth in darkening error fall’n) The finny brood, when near lerne's shore At length ascrib'd th' inapplicable name. Outstretch'd, unwieldy, his island-length appears

How doth it please and fill the memory Above the foamy flood. Globose and huge, With deeds of brave renown, while on each hand Grey mouldering temples swell, and wide o'ercast Historic urns and breathing statues rise, The solitary landscape, hills and woods,

And speaking busts ! Sweet Scipio, Marius stern, And boundless wilds; while the vine-mantled brows Pompey superb, the spirit-stirring form The pendent goats unveil, regardless they Of Cæsar raptur'd with the charm of rule Of hourly peril, though the clefted domes

And boundless fame ; impatient for exploits, Tremble to every wind. The pilgrim oft His eager eyes upcast, he soars in thought At dead of night, ʼmid his orison hears

Above all height: and his own Brutus see, Aghast the voice of Time, disparting towers, Desponding Brutus, dubious of the right, Tumbling all precipitate down-dash'd,

In evil days, of faith, of public weal, Rattling around, loud-thundering to the Moon; Solicitous and sad. Thy next regard While murmurs soothe each awful interval Be Tully's graceful attitude; uprais'd, of ever-falling waters; shrouded Nile,

His outstretch'd arm he waves, in act to speak Eridanus, and Tiber with his twins,

Before the silent masters of the world,
Aud palmy Euphrates,* they with drooping locks And Eloquence arrays him. There behold,
Hang o'er their urns, and mournfully among Prepar’d for combat in the front of war,
'The plaintive-echoing ruins pour their streams. The pious brothers; jealous Alba stands

Yet here, adventurous in the sacred search In fearful expectation of the strife, of ancient arts, the delicate of mind,

And youthful Rome intent: the kindred foes Curious and modest, from all climes resort.

Fall on each other's neck in silent tears; Grateful society! with these I raise

In sorrowful benevolence embraceThe toilsome step up the proud Palatin,

Howe'er, they soon unsheath the flashing sword, Through spiry cypress groves, and towering pine, Their country calls to arms ;-now all in vain Waving aloft o'er the big ruin's brows,

The mother clasps the knee, and e'en the fair On numerous arches rear'd: and frequent stopp'd, Now weeps in vain; their country calls to arms. The sunk ground startles me with dreadful chasm, Such virtue Clelia, Cocles, Manlius, rous'd : Breathing forth darkness from the vast profound Such were the Fabii, Decii; so inspir'd, Of aisles and halls, within the mountain's womb. The Scipios battled, and the Gracchi spoke : Nor these the nether works; all these beneath, So rose the Roman state. Me now, of these And all beneath the vales and hills around, Deep musing, high ambitious thoughts inflame Extend the cavernd sewers, massy, firm, Greatly to serve my courtry, distant land, As the Sibylline grot beside the dead

And build me virtuous fame; nor shall the dust Lake of Avernus; such the sewers huge, of these fallin piles with show of sad decay Whither the great Tarquinian genius dooms

Avert the good resolve, mean argument, Each wave impure; and proud with added rains, The fate alone of matter.--Now the brow Hark how the mighty billows lash their vaults, We gain enrapturd; beauteously distinct 1 And thunder; how they heave their rocks in vain! The numerous porticoes and domes upswell, Though now incessant time has rollid around With obelisks and columns interpos'd, A thousand winters o'er the changeful world, And pine, and fir, and oak: so fair a scene And yet a thousand since, th' indignant floods Sees not the dervise from the spiral tomb Roar loud in their firm bounds, and dash and swell, Of ancient Chammos, while his eye beholds In vain; convey'd to Tiber's lowest wave. Proud Memphis' relics o'er th’Egyptian plain :

Hence over airy plains, by crystal founts, Nor hoary hermit from Hymettus' brow, That weave their glittering waves with tunefullapse, Though graceful Athens in the vale beneath. Among the sleeky pebbles, agale clear,

Along the windings of the Muse's stream, Cerulean ophite, and the flowery vein

Lucid llyssus weeps her silent schools, or orient jasper, pleas'd I move along. And vases boss'd, and huge inscriptive stones, Several statues of the l'agan gods have been convert. And groves, un visited by bard or sage.

ed into images of saints. * Fountains at Rome adorned with the statues of those I From the Palatin hill one sees most of the remarkable rivers.

antiquities. 66

2 T 2

Parent of Happiness, celestial-born; Amid the towery ruins, huge, supreme,

When the first man became a living soul, Th' enormous amphitheatre behold,

His sacred genius thou ;-be Britain's care; Mountainous pile! o'er whose capacious womb With her, secure, prolong thy lov'd retreat ; Pours the broad firmament its varied light; Thence bless mankind; while yet among her sons While from the central floor the seats ascend E'en yet there are, to shield thine equal laws, Round above round, slow-widening to the verge Whose bosoms kindle at the sacred names A circuit vast and high; nor less had held Of Cecil, Raleigh, Walsingham, and Drake. Imperial Rome, and her attendant realms, May others more delight in tuneful airs; When drunk with rule she will'd the fierce delight, In masque and dance excel; to sculptur'd stone And op'd the gloomy caverns, whence out-rush'd Give with superior skill the living look ; Before th' innumerable shouting crowd

More pompous piles erect, or pencil soft The fiery, madded, tyrants of the wilds,

With warmer touch the visionary board : Lions and tigers, wolves and elephants,

But thou, thy nobler Britons teach to rule ; And desperate men, more fell. Abhorr'd intent! To check the ravage of tyrannic sway; By frequent converse with familiar death, To quell the proud ; to spread the joys of peace, To kindle brutal daring apt for war;

And various blessings of ingenious trade. To lock the breast, and steel th' obdurate heart, Be these our arts; and ever may we guard, Amid the piercing cries of sore distress

Ever defend thee with undaunted heart! Impenetrable.—But away thine eye ;

Inestimable good! who giv'st us Truth, Behold yon steepy cliff; the modern pile

Whose hand upleads to light, divinest Truth,
Perchance may now delight, while that,* rever'd Array'd in every charm : whose hand benign
In ancient days, the page alone declares,

Teaches unwearied Toil to clothe the fields,
Or narrow coin through dim cerulean rust. And on his various fruits inscribes the name
The fane was Jove's, its spacious golden roof, Of Property: O nobly hail'd of old
O'er thick-surrounding temples beaming wide, By thy majestic daughters, Judah fair,
Appear'd, as when above the morning hills And Tyrus and Sidonia, lovely nymphs,
Half the round Sun ascends; and tower'd aloft, And Libya bright, and all-enchanting Greece,
Sustain'd by columns huge, innumerous

Whose numerous towns and isles, and peopled seas
As cedars proud on Canaan's verdant heights Rejoic'd around her lyre; th' heroic note
Darkening their idols, when Astarte lur'd

(Smit with sublime delight) Ausonia caught, Too-prosperous Israel from his living strength. And plann'd imperial Rome. Thy hand benign And next regard yon venerable dome,

Rear'd up her towery batilements in strength : Which virtuous Latium, with erroneous aim, Bent her wide bridges o'er the swelling stream Rais'd to her various deities, and nam'd

Of Tuscan Tiber; thine those solemn domes Pantheon ; plain and round; of this our world Devoted to the voice of humbler prayer! Majestic emblem ; with peculiar grace

And thine those pilest undeck'd, capacious, vast, Before its ample orb, projected stands

In days of dearth where tender Charity The many-pillar'd portal: noblest work

Dispens’d her timely succors to the poor. Of human skill : here, curious architect,

Thine too those musically-falling founts, If thou essay'st, ambitious, to surpass

To slake the clammy lip; adown they fall, Palladius, Angelus, or British Jones,

Musical ever; while from yon blue hills, On these fair walls extend the certain scale, Dim in the clouds, the radiant aqueducts And turn th'instructive compass : careful mark

Turn their innumerable arches o'er How far in hidden art, the noble plain

The spacious desert, brightening in the Sun, Extends, and where the lovely forms commence Proud and more proud in their august approach ; Of flowing sculpture : nor neglect to note

High o'er irriguous vales and woods and towns, How range the taper columns, and what weight Glide the soft whispering waters in the wind, Their leafy brows sustain: fair Corinth first And here united pour their silver streams Boasted their order, which Callimachus

Among the figur'd rocks, in murmuring falls, (Reclining studious on Asopus' banks

Musical ever. These thy beauteous works : Beneath an urn of some lamented nymph)

And what beside felicity could tell Haply compos'd; the urn with foliage curl'd Of human benefit: more late the rest; Thinly conceal'd, the chapiter inform'd.

At various times their turrets chanc'd to rise, See the tall obelisks from Memphis old, When impious Tyranny vouchsaf'd to smile. One stone enormous each, or Thebes convey'd ; Behold by Tiber's flood, where modern Romeg Like Albion's spires they rush into the skies.. Couches beneath the ruins : there of old And there the temple,t where the summon'd state With arms and trophies gleam'd the field of Mars In deep of night conven'd: e'en yet methinks There to their daily sports the noble youth The vehement orator in rent attire

Rush'd emulous; to Aling the pointed lance; Persuasion pours, Ambition sinks her crest;

To vault the steed; or with the kindling wheel And lo the villain, like a troubled sea,

In dusty whirlwinds sweep the trembling goal ; That tosses up her mire! Ever disguis'd,

Or, wrestling, cope with adverse swelling breasts, Shall Treason walk? Shall proud Oppression yoke Strong grappling arms, close heads, and distant feet; The neck of Virtue? Lo the wretch, abashid, Or clash the listed gauntlets : there they form'd Self-betray'd Catiline! O Liberty,

Their ardent virtues: in the bossy piles,

* The Capitol.

| The Temple of Concord, where the senate met on Catiline's conspiracy.

1 The public granaries.

§ Modern Rome stands chiefly on the old Campus Martius.

The proud triumphal arches; all their wars, Where Cæsars, heroes, peasants, hermits, lie,
Their conquests, honors, in the sculptures live. Blended in dust together; where the slave
And see from every gate those ancient roads, Rests from his labors; where th' insulting proud
With tombs high verg'd, the solemn paths of Fame : Resigns his power; the miser drops his hoard ;
Deserve they not regard ? O'er whose broad flints Where human folly sleeps.—There is a mood,
Such crowds have rollid, so many storms of war; (I sing not to the vacant and the young)
So many pomps ; so many wondering realms : There is a kindly mood of melancholy,
Yet still through mountains pierc'd, o'er valleys rais'd, That wings the soul, and points her to the skies;
In even state, to distant seas around,

When tribulation clothes the child of man, They stretch their pavements. Lo, the fane of When age descends with sorrow to the grave, Peace,*

"Tis sweetly-soothing sympathy to pain, Built by that prince, who to the trust of power A gently-wakening call to health and ease. Was honest, the delight of human-kind.

How musical! when all-devouring Time, Three nodding aisles remain; the rest a heap Here sitting on his throne of ruins hoar, of sand and weeds; her shrines, her radiant roofs, While winds and tempests sweep his various lyre And columns proud, that from her spacious floor, How sweet thy diapason, Melancholy! As from a shining sea, majestic rose

Cool evening comes; the setting Sun displays A hundred foot aloft, like stately beech

His visible great round between yon towers, Around the brim of Dion's glassy lake,

As through two shady cliffs; away, my Muse, Charming the mimic painter : on the walls Though yet the prospect pleases, ever new Hung Salem's sacred spoils; the golden board, In vast variety, and yet delight And golden trumpets, now conceal'd, entomb'd The many-figur'd sculptures of the path By the sunk roof.-O'er which in distant view Half beauteous, half effac'd; the traveller Th’Etruscan mountains swell, with ruins crown'd Such antique marbles to his native land Of ancient towns; and blue Soracte spires, Oft hence conveys; and every realm and state Wrapping his sides in tempests. Eastward hence, With Rome's august remains, heroes and gods, Nigh where the Cestian pyramid † divides Deck their long galleries and winding groves; The mouldering wall, beyond yon fabric huge, Yet miss we not th' innumerable thefts, Whose dust the solemn antiquarian turns,

Yet still profuse of graces teems the waste. And thence, in broken sculptures cast abroad, Suffice it now th' Esquilian mount to reach Like Sibyl's leaves, collects the builder's name With weary wing, and seek the sacred rests Rejoic'd, and the green modals frequent found Of Maro's humble tenement; a low Doom Caracalla to perpetual fame :

Plain wall remains; a little sun-gilt heap, The stately pines, that spread their branches wide Grotesque and wild ; the gourd and olive brown In the dun ruins of its ample halls,

Weave the light roof: the gourd and olive fan Appear but tufts; as may whate'er is high Their amorous foliage, mingling with the vine, Sink in comparison, minute and vile.

Who drops her purple clusters through the green
These, and unnumber'd, yet their brows uplift, Here let me lie, with pleasing fancy sooth'd :
Rent of their graces; as Britannia's oaks Here flow'd his fountain; here his laurels grew;
On Merlin's mount, or Snowdon's rugged sides, Here oft the meek good man, the lofty bard
Stand in the clouds, their branches scatter'd round, Fram'd the celestial song, or social walk'd
After the tempest; Mausoleums, Cirques,

With Horace and the ruler of the world :
Naumachios, Forums ; Trajan's column tall, Happy Augustus! who, so well inspir'd,
From whose low base the sculptures wind aloft, Couldst throw thy pomps and royalties aside,
And lead through various toils, up the rough steep, Attentive to the wise, the great of soul,
Its hero the skies: and his dark towery

And dignify thy mind. Thrice-glorious days, Whose execrable hand the city fir'd,

Auspicious to the Muses! then rever'd, And while the dreadful conflagration blaz’d,

Then hallow'd was the fount, or secret shade, Play'd to the flames; and Phæbus' letter'd dome ; l. Or open mountain, or whatever scene And the rough relics of Carinæ's street,

The poet chose, to tune th' ennobling rhyme Where now the shepherd to his nibbling sheep Melodious; e'en the rugged sons of war, Sits piping with his oaten reed; as erst

E'en the rude hinds rever'd the poet's name : There pip'd the shepherd to his nibbling sheep, But now another age, alas! is ours When th' humble roof Anchises' son explor'd Yet will the Muse a little longer soar, Of good Evander, wealth-despising king,

Unless the clouds of care weigh down her wing. Amid the thickets : so revolves the scene ;

Since Nature's stores are shut with cruel hand, So Time ordains, who rolls the things of pride And each aggrieves his brother; since in vain From dust again to dust. Behold that heap The thirsty pilgrim at the fountain asks Of mouldering urns (their ashes blown away, Th'o'erflowing wave-Enough-the plaint disdain Dust of the mighty) the same story tell ;

See'st thou yon fane ?* e'en now incessant time And at its base, from whence the serpent glides Sweeps her low mouldering marbles to the dust ; Down the green desert street, yon hoary monk And Phæbus' temple, nodding with its woods, Laments the same, the vision as he views, Threatens huge ruin o'er the small rotund. The solitary, silent, solemn scene,

'Twas there beneath a fig-tree's umbrage broad,

Th' astonish'd swains with roverend awe beheld Begun by Vespasian, and finished by Titus. Thee, O Quirinus, and thy brother-twin, † The tomb of Cestius, partly within and partly with. Pressing the teat within a monster's grasp out the walls. 1 The baths of Caracalla, a vast ruin.

* The temple of Romulus and Remus, qnder Mount § Nero's.

| The Palatin library, Palatin.

Sportive; while oft the gaunt and rugged wolf Withers each nerve, and opens every pore Turn'd her stretch'd neck and form'd your tender To painful feeling : flowery bowers they seek limbs ;

(As eiher prompts, as the sick sense approves) So taught of Jove e'en the fell savage fed Or cool Nymphean grots; or tepid baths Your sacred infancies, your virtues, toils, (Taught by the soft lonians); they, along The conquests, glories, of th’ Ausonian state, The lawny vale, of every beauteous stone, Wrapp'd in their secret seeds. Each kindred soul, Pile in the roseate air with fond expense : Robust and stout, ye grapple to your hearts, Through silver channels glide the vagrant waves, And little Rome appears. Her cots arise,

And fall on silver beds crystalline down, Green twigs of osier weave the slender walls, Melodious murmuring; while Luxury Green rushes spread the roofs; and here and there Over their naked limbs with wanton hand Opens beneath the rock the gloomy cave.

Sheds roses, odors, sheds unheeded bane. Elate with joy Etruscan Tiber views

Swift is the flight of wealth ; unnumber'd wants, Her spreading scenes enamelling his waves, Brood of voluptuousness, cry out aloud Her huts and hollow dells, and flocks and herds, Necessity, and seek the splendid bribe. And gathering swaims; and rolls his yellow car The citron board, the bowl emboss'd with gems, To Neptune's court with more majestic train. And tender foliage wildly wreath'd around

Her speedy growth alarm'd the states around, Of seeming ivy, by that artful hand, Jealous ; yet soon, by wondrous virtue won, Corinthian Thericles; whate'er is known They sink into her bosom. From the plow of rarest acquisition; Tyrian garbs, Rose her dictators; fought, o'ercame, return'd Neptunian Albion's high testaceous food, Yes, to the plow return'd, and hail'd their peers; And flavor'd Chian wines with incense fum'd For then no private pomp, no household state, To slake patrician thirst; for these, their rights The public only swellid the generous breast. In the vile streets they prostitute to sale, Who has not heard the Fabian heroes sung ? Their ancient rights, their dignities, their laws, Dentatus' scars, or Mutius' flaming hand ? Their native glorious freedom. Is there none, How Manlius sav'd the Capitol ? the choice Is there no villain, that will bind the neck Of steady Regulus? As yet they stood,

Stretch'd to the yoke? they come; the market throngs Simple of life; as yet seducing wealth

But who has most by fraud or force amass'd ? Was unexplor'd, and shame of poverty

Who most can charm corruption with his doles ? Yet unimagin'd.--Shine not all the fields

He be the monarch of the state ; and lo! With various fruitage ? murmur not the brooks Didius,* vile usurer, through the crowd he mounts, Along the flowery valleys? They, content, Beneath his feet the Ro an eagle cowers, Feasted at Nature's hand, indelicate,

And the red arrows fill his grasp uncouth. Blithe, in their easy taste; and only sought O Britons, O my countrymen, beware ; To know their duties; that their only strife, Gird, gird your hearts; The Romans once were free, Their generous strife, and greatly to perform. Were brave, were virtuous.-Tyranny, howe'er, They through all shapes of peril and of pain, Deign'd to walk forth awhile in pageant state, Intent on honor, dar'd in thickest death

And with licentious pleasures fed the rout, To snatch the glorious deed. Nor Trebia quell’d, The thoughtless many: to the wanion sound Nor Thrasymene, nor Canna's bloody field, Of fifes and drums they danc'd, or in the shade Their dauntless courage ; storming Hannibal Sung Cesar, great and terrible in war, In vain the thunder of the battle roll'd,

Immortal Cæsar! Lo, a god, a god, The thunder of the baule they return'd

He cleaves the yielding skies! Cæsar meanwhile Back on his Punic shores ; till Carthage fell, Gathers the ocean pebbles; or the gnat And danger fled afar. The city gleam'd

Enrag'd pursues ; or at his lonely meal With precious spoils : alas, prosperity !

Starves a wide province ; tastes, dislikes, and flings Ah, baneful state! yet ebb'd not all their strength To dogs and sycophants. A god, a god! In soft luxurious pleasures; proud desire The flowery shades and shrines obscene return. Of boundless sway, and feverish thirst of gold, But see along the north the tempests swell Rous'd them again to battle. Beauteous Greece, O'er the rough Alps, and darken all their snows! Torn from her joys, in vain with languid arm Sudden the Goth and Vandal, dreaded names, Half-rais'd her rusty shield ; nor could avail Rush as the breach of waters, whelming all The sword of Dacia, nor the Parthian dart; Their domes, their villas; down the festive piles, Nor yet the ear of that fam'd British chief, Down fall their Parian porches, gilded baths, Which seven brave years, beneath the doubtful wing And roll before the storm in clouds of dust. Of Victory, dreadful roll'd its griding wheels Vain end of human strength, of human skill, Over the bloody war: the Roman arms

Conquest, and triumph, and domain, and pomp, Triumph'd, till Fame was silent to their foes. And ease, and luxury! O Luxury,

And now the world unrival'd they enjoy'd Bane of elated life, of affluent states, In proud security: the crested helm,

What dreary change, what ruin is not thine ? The plated greave and corslet hung unbrac'd ; How doth thy bowl intoxicate the mind! Norclank'd their arms, the spear and sounding shield, 'To the soft entrance of thy rosy cave But on the glittering trophy to the wind.

How dost thou lure the fortunate and great! Dissolv'd in ease and soft delights they lie, Dreadful attraction! while behind thee gapes Till every sun annoys, and every wind

Th’unfathomable gulf where Asher lies Has chilling force, and every rain offends : O'erwhelm'd, forgotten; and high-boasting Cham; For now the frame no more is girt with strength And Elam's haughty pomp; and beauteous Greece; Masculine, nor in lustiness of heart

And the great queen of Earth, imperial Rome. Laughs at the winter storm, and summer-beam, Superior to their rage: enfeebling vice

* Didius Julianus, who bought the empire.

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