O'er men an empire was my purpose now:
To let my martial majesty abroad;
Into the vortex of one state to draw
The whole mix'd force, and liberty, on earth;
To conquer tyrants, and fet nations free.
Already have I given, with flying touch,
A broken view of this my ampleft reign.
Now, while its firft, laft, periods you survey,
Mark how it labouring rofe, and rapid fell.
When Rome in noon-tide empire grasp'd the world, And, foon as her refiftlefs legions fhone,
The nations ftoop'd around; though then appear'd
Her grandeur most, yet in her dawn of power,
By many a jealous equal people prefs'd,
Then was the toil, the mighty struggle then ;
Then for each Roman I an hero told;
And every paffing fun, and Latian scene,
Saw patriot virtues then, and aweful deeds,
That or furpass the faith of modern times,
Or, if believ'd, with facred horror ftrike.
For then, to prove my most exalted power,
I to the point of full perfection push'd,
To fondness or enthusiastic zeal,
The great, the reigning paffion of the free.
That godlike paffion! which, the bounds of felf
Divinely bursting, the whole publick takes
Into the heart, enlarg'd, and burning high
With the mix'd ardor of unnumber'd felves;
Of all who fafe beneath the voted laws
Of the fame parent ftate fraternal, live.
From this kind fun of moral nature flow'd
Virtues, that thine the light of human kind,
And, ray'd through ftory, warm remotest time.
These virtues too, reflected to their fource,
Encreas'd its flame. The focial charm went round,
The fair idea, more attractive still,
As more by virtue mark'd; till Romans, all
One band of friends, unconquerable grew.
Hence, when their country rais'd her plaintive voice,
The voice of pleading nature was not heard;
And in their hearts the fathers throbb'd no more:
Stern to themselves, but gentle to the whole.
Hence fweeten'd pain, the luxury of toil;
Patience, that baffled fortune's utmost rage;
High-minded hope, which at the lowest ebb,
When Brennus conquer'd, and when Cannæ bled,
The braveft impulfe felt, and fcorn'd despair.
Hence moderation a new conqueft gain'd;
As on the vanquifh'd, like defcending heaven,
Their dewy mercy dropp'd, their bounty beam'd,
And by the labouring hand were crowns bestow'd.
Fruitful of men, hence hard laborious life,
Which no fatigue can quell, no feafon pierce.
Hence, Independence, with his little pleas'd,
Serene, and felf-fufficient, like a God;
In whom Corruption could not lodge one charm,
While he his honeft roots to gold preferr'd;
While truly rich, and by his Sabine field,
The man maintain'd, the Roman's fplendor all
Was in the public wealth and glory plac'd:
Or ready, a rough swain, to guide the plough;
Or elfe, the purple o'er his shoulder thrown,
In long majestic flow, to rule the state,
With wisdom's purest eye; or, clad in steel,
To drive the steady battle on the foe.
Hence every paffion, ev'n the proudeft, stoop'd,
To common-good: Camillus, thy revenge ;
Thy glory, Fabius. All fubmiffive hence,
Confuls, dictators, still refign'd their rule,
The very moment that the laws ordain'd.
Though conquest o'er them clapp'd her eagle-wings,
Her laurels wreath'd, and yok'd her snowy steeds
To the triumphal car; foon as expir'd
The latest hour of sway, taught to fubmit (A harder leffon that than to command),
Into the private Roman funk the chief.
If Rome was ferv'd, and glorious, careless they
By whom. Their country's fame they deem'd their own;
And, above envy, in a rival's train,
Sung the loud lös by themselves deferv'd.
Hence matchlefs courage. On Cremera's bank,
Hence fell the Fabii; hence the Decii dy'd ;
And Curtius plung'd into the flaming gulph.
Hence Regulus the wavering fathers firm'd,
By dreadful counsel never given before;
For Roman honour fued, and his own doom.
Hence he fuftain'd to dare a death prepar'd
By Punic rage. On earth his manly look
Relentless fix'd, he from a last embrace,
By chains polluted, put his wife afide,
His little children climbing for a kifs;
Then dumb through rows of weeping wondering friends,
A new illustrious exile! prefs'd along.
Nor lefs impatient did he pierce the crowds
Oppofing his return, than if, efcap'd
From long litigious fuits, he glad forfook
The noify town a while, and city cloud,
To breathe Venafrian, or Tarentine air.
Need I thefe high particulars recount?
The meaneft bosom felt a thirst for fame;
Flight their worst death, and shame their only fear.
Life had no charms, nor any terrors fate,
When Rome and glory call'd. But, in one view, 185 Mark the rare boast of these unequal'd times.
Ages revolv'd unfully'd by a crime :
Aftrea reign'd, and fcarcely needed laws
To bind a race elated with the pride
Of virtue, and disdaining to descend
To meanness, mutual violence, and wrongs.
While war around them rag'd, in happy Rome
All peaceful smil'd, all fave the paffing clouds
That often hang on Freedom's jealous brow!
And fair unblemish'd centuries elaps'd,
When not a Roman bled but in the field.
Their virtue fuch, that an unbalanc'd state,
Still between noble and plebeian tost,
As flow'd the wave of fluctuating power,
Was thence kept firm, and with triumphant prow 200 Rode out the ftorms. Oft though the native feuds,
That from the firft their conftitution fhook,
(A latent ruin, growing as it grew)
Stood on the threatening point of civil war
Ready to rush: yet could the lenient voice
Of wisdom, foothing the tumultuous foul,
Those sons of virtue calm. Their generous hearts,
Unpetrify'd by felf, fo naked lay,
And fenfible to truth, that o'er the rage
Of giddy faction, by oppreffion fwell'd,
Prevail'd a fimple fable, and at once
To peace recover'd the divided state.
But if their often-cheated hopes refus'd
The foothing touch; ftill, in the love of Rome,
The dread dictator found a fure resource.
Was the affaulted? was her glory ftain'd?
One common quarrel wide-inflam'd the whole.
Foes in the forum in the field were friends,
By focial danger bound; each fond for each,
And for their dearest country all, to die.
Thus up the hill of empire flow they toil'd:
Till, the bold fummit gain'd, the thousand states
Of proud Italia blended into one;
Then o'er the nations they refiftlefs rufh'd,
And touch'd the limits of the failing world.
Let Fancy's eye the distant lines unite.
See that which borders wild the western main,
Where ftorms at large refound, and tides immenfe :
From Caledonia's dim cærulean coast,
And moist Hibernia, to where Atlas, lodg'd
Amid the restless clouds, and leaning heaven,
ngs o'er the deep that borrows thence its name.
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