My guilt thy growing virtues did defame,
My blackness blotted thy unblemish'd name.
Chac'd from a throne, abandon'd, and exil'd,
For foul misdeeds, were punishments too mild :
I ow'd my people these, and from their hate
With lefs refentment could have born my fate.
And yet I live, and yet fuftain the fight
-Of hated men, and of more hated light :
But will not long. With that he rais'd from ground
His fainting limbs that stagger'd with his wound.
Yet with a mind refolv'd, and unappal'd
With pains or perils, for his courfer call'd:
Well-mouth'd, well-manag'd, whom himself did dress
With daily care, and mounted with fuccefs;
His aid in arms, his ornament in peace.
Soothing his courage with a gentle stroke,
The steed feem'd fenfible, while thus he fpoke:
O Rhæbus, we have liv'd too long for me
(If life and long were terms that could agree);
This day thou either shalt bring back the head
And bloody trophies of the Trojan dead;
This day thou either fhalt revenge my woe
For murder'd Laufus, on his cruel foe;
Or, if inexorable Fate deny
Our conqueft, with thy conquer'd master die:
For, after fuch a lord, I rest secure, ·
Thou wilt no foreign reins, oi Trojan load, endure.
He said: and straight th' officious couifer kneels
To take his wonted weight. His hands he fills
Mean time his father, now no father, stood,
And wash'd his wounds by Tiber's yellow flood:
Opprefs'd with anguish, panting, and o'erspent,
His fainting limbs against an oak he leant.
A bough his brazen helmet did fuftain,
His heavier arms lay fcatter'd on the plain :
A chofen train of youth around him stand,
His drooping head was rested on his hand :
His grifly beard his penfive bofom fought,
And all on Laufus ran his restless thought.
Careful, concern'd his danger to prevent,
He much enquir'd, and many a message fent
To warn him from the field: alas! in vain ;
Behold his mournful followers bear him flain:
O'er his broad fhield ftill gufh'd the yawning wound,
And drew a bloody trail along the ground.
Far off he heard their cries, far off divin'd
The dire event with a foreboding mind.
With duft he fprinkled first his hoary head,
Then both his lifted hands to heaven he fpread;
Laft the dear corpfe embracing, thus he said :
What joys, alas! could this frail' being give,
That I have been fo covetous to live?
To see my son, and such a son, refign
His life a ranfom for preferving mine?
And am I then preserv'd, and art thou loft?
How much too dear has that redemption coft!
"Tis now my bitter banishment I feel;
This is a wound too deep for time to heal.
My guilt thy growing virtues did defame,
My blackness blotted thy unblemish'd name.
Chac'd from a throne, abandon'd, and exil'd,
For foul mifdeeds, were punishments too mild :
I ow'd my people these, and from their hate
With less refentment could have born my fate.
And yet I live, and yet fuftain the fight
Of hated men, and of more hated light:
But will not long. With that he rais'd from ground
His fainting limbs that stagger'd with his wound.
Yet with a mind refolv'd, and unappal'd
With pains or perils, for his courfer call'd:
Well-mouth'd, well-manag'd, whom himself did dress
With daily care, and mounted with fuccefs;
His aid in arms, his ornament in peace.
Soothing his courage with a gentle stroke,
The fteed feem'd fenfible, while thus he fpoke:
O Rhæbus, we have liv'd too long for me
(If life and long were terms that could agree);
This day thou either fhalt bring back the head
And bloody trophies of the Trojan dead;
This day thou either fhalt revenge my woe
For murder'd Laufus, on his cruel foe;
Or, if inexorable Fate deny
Our conqueft, with thy conquer'd mafter die:
For, after fuch a lord, I rest secure,
Thou wilt no foreign reins, or Trojan load, endure.
He said: and straight th' officious couifer kneels
To take his wonted weight. His hands he fills
3 9015 00394 974 3 University of Michigan - BUHR
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