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Yet Fortune, when he meant to wreak her hate,
From foreign foes preferv'd the Roman state,
Nor fuffer'd barbarous hands to give the blow,
That laid the queen of earth and ocean low;
To Rome herself for enemies the 'fought,
And Rome herself her own deftruction wrought;
Rome, that ne'er knew three lordly heads before,
First fell by fatal partnership of
What blind ambition bids your force combine?
What means this frantic league in which you join?
Mistaken men who hope to fhare the spoil,
And hold the world within one common toil!
While earth the feas fhall in her bofom bear,
While earth herself fhall hang in ambient air,
While Phoebus fhall his conftant tafk renew;
While through the Zodiac night shall day pursue ;
No faith, no truft, no friendship, shall be known
Among the jealous partners of a throne;
But he who reigns, shall strive to reign alone.
Nor feek for foreign tales to make this good,
Were not our walls first built in brother's blood?
Nor did the feud for wide dominion rife,
Nor was the world their impious fury's prize;
Divided power contention still affords,
And for a village ftrove the petty lords.
The fierce, triumvirate combin'd in peace,
Preferv'd the bond but for a little space,
Still with an aukward disagreeing grace.
'Twas not a league by inclination made,
But bare agreement, fuch as friends perfuade.

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Defire of war in either chief was feen,
Though interpofing Craffus ftood between.
Such in the midft the parting Ifthmus lies,
While fwelling feas on either fide arise;
The folid boundaries of earth restrain
The fierce Ionian and gean main;

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But, if the mound gives way, ftraight roaring loud
In at the breach the rushing torrents croud;
Raging they meet, the dashing waves run high,
And work their foamy waters to the sky.
So when unhappy Craffus, fadly flain,
Dy'd with his blood Affyrian Carre's plain;
Sudden the feeming friends in arms engage,
The Parthian fword let loofe the Latian rage.
Ye fierce Arfacide! ye foes of Rome,
Now triumph, you have more than overcome:
The vanquish'd felt your victory from far,
And from that, field receiv'd their civil war.
The fword is now the umpire to decide,
And part what friendship knew not to divide.
'Twas hard, an empire of fo vast a size,
Could not for two ambitious minds fuffice;
The peopled earth, and wide-extended main,
Could furnish room for only one to reign,
When dying Julia firft forfook the light,
And Hymen's tapers funk in endless night,
The tender ties of kindred-love were torn,
Forgotten all, and bury'd in her urn.
Oh! if her death had haply been delay'd,

How might the daughter and the wife perfuade!

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Like the fam'd Sabine dames fhe had been feen
To stay the meeting war, and ftand between :
On either hand had woo'd them to accord,
Sooth'd her fierce father, and her furious lord,
To join in peace, and sheath the ruthless sword.
But this the fatal fifters doom deny'd;

The friends were fever'd, when the matron dy'd.
The rival leaders mortal war proclaim,
Rage fires their fouls with jealousy of fame,
And emulation fans the rifing flame.

Thee Pompey thy past deeds by turns infest,.
And jealous glory burns within thy breast;
Thy fam'd piratic laurel feems to fade,
Beneath fuccefsful Cæfar's rifing fhade;
His Gallic wreaths thou view'ft with anxious eyes
Abové thy naval crowns triumphant rise.
Thee, Cefar, thy long labours paft incite,
Thy ufe of war, and custom of the fight;
While bold ambition prompts thee in the race,
And bids thy courage fcorn a fecond place.
Superior power, fierce faction's dearest care,
One could not brook, and one disdain'd to share.
Juftly to name the better caufe were hard,
While greatest names for either fide declar'd:
Victorious Cæfar by the gods was crown'd,
The vanquish'd party was by Cato own'd.
Nor came the rivals equal to the field;
One to increasing years began to yield,

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Old age came creeping in the peaceful gown,
And civil functions weigh'd the foldier down;

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Difus'd to arms, he turn'd him to the laws,
And pleas'd himself with popular applause;
With gifts and liberal bounty fought for fame,
And lov'd to hear the vulgar fhout his name;
In his own theatre rejoic'd to fit,

Amidst the noisy praises of the pit.
Careless of future ills that might betide,
No aid he fought to prop his failing fide,
But on his former fortune much rely'd.
Stil feem'd he to poffefs, and fill his place;
But ftood the fhadow of what once he was.
So, in the field with Ceres' bounty spread,
Uprears fome ancient oak his reverend head;
Chaplets and facred gifts his boughs adorn,
And spoils of war by mighty heroes worn.
But, the first vigour of his root now gone,
He ftands dependent on his weight alone;
All bare his naked branches are display'd,
And with his leaflefs trunk he forms a fhade:
Yet though the winds his ruin daily threat,
As every blast would heave him from his feat;
Though thousand fairer trees the field supplies,
That rich in youthful verdure round him rife;
Fix'd in his ancient ftate he yields to none,
And wears the honours of the grove alone.
But Cæfar's greatnefs, and his ftrength, was more
Than paft renown and antiquated power;
'Twas not the fame of what he once had been,
Ortales in old records and annals feen;
But 'twas a valour, reftlefs, unconfin'd,
Which no fuccefs could fate, nor limits bind ;

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'Twas

'Twas shame, a foldier's fhame untaught to yield,"
That blush'd for nothing but an ill-fought field;
Fierce in his hopes he was, nor knew to stay,
Where vengeance or ambition led the way;
Still prodigal of war whene'er withstood,
Nor fpar'd to stain the guilty fword with blood;
Urging advantage, he improv'd all odds,

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And made the most of fortune and the gods;

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Pleas'd to o'erturn 'whate'er withheld his prize,

And faw the ruin with rejoicing eyes.

Such while earth trembles, and heaven thunders loud,
Darts the fwift lightning from the rending cloud;
Fierce through the day it breaks, and in its flight 290
The dreadful blaft confounds the gazer's fight;
Refiftlefs in its courfe delights to rove,

And cleaves the temples of its master Jove:
Alike where-e'er it paffes or returns,

With equal rage the fell deftroyer burns;
Then with a whirl full in its ftrength retires,
And recollects the force of all its scatter'd fires.
Motives like thefe the leading chiefs infpir'd;
But other thoughts the meaner vulgar fir'd.
Thofe fatal feeds luxurious vices fow,

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Which ever lay a mighty people low.

To Rome the vanquish'd earth her tribute paid,
And deadly treasures to her view display'd:

Then truth and fimple manners left the place,
While riot rear'd her lewd dishonest face;
Virtue to full profperity gave way,
And fled from rapine, and the luft of prey.

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