Impatient of revenge, quit Gallick jars,
And draw his conquering sword for civil wars.
In cloudy Alps, where the divided rock
To cunning Grecians did its nerves unlock,
Altars devoted to Alcides smoke.
The temple with eternal ice is crown'd,
Whose milky top so far in clouds is drown'd;
You'd think its shoulders in the heavens bound
Not the warm rays of a meridian sun,
Or the hot southern winds can melt it down.
So fixt with ice and snows it did appear,
That its aspiring top the globe might bear.
Here conquering C?¦sar leads his joyful bands,
And on the proudest cliff consid'ring stands.
The distant plains of Italy surveys,
And, hands and voice to heaven directed, says
Almighty Jove and you, Saturnia, found,
Safe by my arms, oft with my triumph's crown'd.
Witness these arms unwillingly I wear,
Unwillingly I come to wage this war,
Compell'd by injuries too great to bear.
Banisht my country, while I make the flood,
That laves the Rhine, run purple all with blood.
While the Gauls, ripe our Rome to re-invade,
I force to skulk behind their Alps afraid:
By conquering my banishment's secur'd.
Are sixty triumphs not to be endur'd?
A German conquest reckon'd such a fault?
By whom is glory such a monster thought?
Or who the vile supporters of this war?
A foreign spawn, a mobb in arms appear,
At once Rome's scandal, and at once her care.
Pages:
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178