Attentive to the wife, the great of foul,
And dignify thy mind. Thrice glorious days,
Aufpicious to the Mufes! then rever'd,

Then hallow'd was the fount, or secret shade,
Or open mountain, or whatever fcene

The poet chose to tune th' ennobling rhime
Melodious; ev'n the rugged fons of war,
Ev'n the rude hinds rever'd the Poet's name:
But now another age, alas! is ours ————
Yet will the Mufe a little longer foar,
Unless the clouds of care weigh down her wing,
Since nature's ftores are shut with cruel hand,
And each aggrieves his brother; fince in vain
The thirsty pilgrim at the fountain asks

Th' o'erflowing wave-Enough-the plaint difdain.---
See'ft thou yon fane? ev'n now inceffant time n
Sweeps her low mould'ring marbles to the duft;
And Phoebus' temple, nodding with its woods
Threatens huge ruin o'er the fmall rotund.
'Twas there beneath a fig-tree's umbrage broad,
Th' aftonish'd fwains with rev'rend awe beheld
Thee, O Quirinus, and thy brother-twin,
Preffing the teat within a monfter's grasp

Sportive; while oft the gaunt and rugged wolf
Turn'd her ftretch'd neck and form'd your tender limbs:
So taught of Jove, ev'n the fell favage fed

The temple of Romulus and Remus under mount Palatin.

Your

Your facred infancies, your virtues, toils,
The conquefts, glories, of th' Aufonian ftate,
Wrapp'd in their fecret feeds. Each kindred foul,
Robust and ftout, ye grapple to your hearts,
And little Rome appears. Her cots arise,
Green twigs of ofier weave the flender walls,
Green rushes spread the roofs; and here and there
Opens beneath the rock the gloomy cave.
Elate with joy Etrufcan Tiber views

Her spreading scenes enamelling his waves,
Her huts and hollow dells, and flocks and herds,
And gath❜ring fwains; and rolls his yellow car
To Neptune's court, with more majestick train.

Her speedy growth alarm'd the states around
Jealous, yet foon by wond'rous virtue won,
They fink into her bofom. From the plough
Rofe her dictators; fought, o'ercame, return'd,
Yes, to the plough return'd, and hail'd their peers
For then no private pomp, no houshold state,
The publick only swell'd the gen'rous breast.
Who has not heard the Fabian heroes fung?
Dentatus' fcars, or Mutius' flaming hand?
How Manlius fav'd the Capitol ? the choice
Of steady Regulus? As yet they stood,
Simple of life; as yet feducing wealth
Was unexplor'd, and shame of poverty
Yet unimagin'd-Shine not all the fields
With various fruitage ? murmur not the brooks

Along ⚫

Along the flow'ry vallies? They, content,
Feafted at nature's hand, indelicate,

Blithe, in their easy tafte; and only fought
To know their duties; that their only ftrife,
Their gen'rous ftrife, and greatly to perform.
They through all shapes of peril and of pain,
Intent on honour, dar'd in thickest death

To fnatch the glorious deed. Nor Trebia quell'd,
Nor Thrafymene, nor Canna's bloody field,
Their dauntless courage; ftorming Hannibal
In vain the thunder of the battle roll❜d,
The thunder of the battle they return'd
Back on his Punick fhores; 'till Carthage fell,
And danger fled afar. The city gleam'd
With precious spoils: alas profperity!
Ah baneful state! yet ebb'd not all their strength
In foft luxurious, pleasures; proud defire
Of boundless sway, and fev'rish thirst of gold,
Rous'd them again to battle. Beauteous Greece,
Torn from her joys, in vain with languid arm
Half rais'd her rufty fhield; nor could avail
The fword of Dacia, nor the Parthian dart;

Nor yet the car of that fam'd British chief,
Which seven brave years beneath the doubtful wing
Of vict'ry, dreadful roll'd its griding wheels
Over the bloody war: the Roman arms
Triumph'd, 'till Fame was filent of their foes.

And

And now the world unrivall'd they enjoy'd
In proud fecurity: the crested helm,

The plated greave and corselet hung unbrac'd;
Nor clank'd their arms, the fpear and founding fhield,
But on the glitt'ring trophy to the wind.

Diffolv'd in eafe and foft delights they lie,

'Till ev'ry fun annoys, and ev'ry wind
Has chilling force, and ev'ry rain offends :
For now the frame no more is girt with strength
Masculine, nor in luftinefs of heart

Laughs at the winter ftorm, and fummer beam,
Superior to their rage: enfeebling vice
Withers each nerve, and opens every pore
To painful feeling: flow'ry bow'rs they seek
(As æther prompts, as the fick fenfe approves)
Or cool Nymphean grots; or tepid baths
(Taught by the foft Ionians) they, along
The lawny vale, of ev'ry beauteous stone,
Pile in the rofeat air with fond

expence : Through filver channels glide the vagrant waves, And fall on filver beds crystalline down,

Melodious murmuring; while luxury

Over their naked limbs, with wanton hand,

Sheds roses, odours, fheds unheeded bane.

Swift is the flight of wealth; unnumber'd wants, Brood of volupt'oufnefs, cry out aloud

Neceflity, and feek the fplendid bribe.

The citron board, the bowl embofs'd with gems,

And

And tender foliage wildly wreath'd around
Of feeming ivy, by that artful hand,
Corinthian Thericles; whate'er is known
Of rareft acquifition; Tyrian garbs,
Neptunian Albion's high teftaceous food,
And flavour'd Chian wines with incense fum'd
To shake Patrician thirst: for thefe, their rights
In the vile streets they proftitute to fale;
Their ancient rights, their dignities, their laws,
Their native glorious freedom. Is there none,
Is there no villain, that will bind the neck
Stretch'd to the yoke? they come; the market throngs.
But who has moft by fraud or force amass'd ?
Who moft can charm corruption with his doles ?
He be the monarch of the ftate; and lo!
Didius, vile us'rer, through the crowd he mounts,
Beneath his feet the Roman eagle cow'rs,

And the red arrows fill his grasp uncouth.
O Britons, O my countrymen, beware,

Gird, gird your hearts; the Romans once were free,
Were brave, were virtuous.-Tyranny howe'er
Deign'd to walk forth awhile in pageant state,
And with licentious pleasures fed the rout,
The thoughtless many to the wanton found
of fifes and drums they danc'd, or in the fhade
Sung Cæfar, great and terrible in war,
Immortal Cæfar! lo, a God, a God,

• Didius Julianus, who bought the empire.