Impatient he provokes the fatal day,

Ordain'd to give Rome's liberties away,

And leave the world the greedy victor's prey.
Eager, that laft, great chance of war he waits,
Where either's fall determines both their fates.
Thrice, on the hills, all drawn in dread array,
His threatening eagles wide their wings display;
Thrice, but in vain, his hoftile arms he fhew'd,
His ready rage, and thirst of Latian blood.
But when he faw, how cautious Pompey's care,
Safe in his camp, declin'd the proffer'd war;
Through woody paths he bent his secret way,
And meant to make Dyrrhachium's towers his prey.
This Pompey faw; and swiftly shot before,
With speedy marches on the fandy shore:
Till on Taulantian Petra's top he stay'd,
Sheltering the city with his timely aid.

This place, nor walls, nor trenches deep can boast,
The works of labour, and expensive coft.

Vain prodigality! and labour vain!

20

25

Loft is the lavifh'd wealth, and loft the fruitless pain! 30
What walls, what towers foe'er they rear fubiime,
Muft yield to wars, or more deftructive time;
While fences like Dyrrhachium's fortress made,
Where nature's hand the fure foundation laid,
And with her strength the naked town array'd,
Shall stand secure against the warrior's rage,
Nor fear the ruinous decays of age.
Guarded, around, by steepy rocks it lies,
And all access from land, but one, denies.

36

No venturous vessel there in safety rides,
But foaming furges break, and swelling tides
Roll roaring on, and wash the craiggy sides :
Or when contentious winds more rudely blow,
Then mounting o'er the topmaft cliff they flow,
Burft on the lofty domes, and dash the town below.
Here Cæfar's daring heart vast hopes conceives, 46.
And high with war's vindictive pleasures heaves;
Much he revolves within his thoughtful mind,
How, in this camp, the foe may be confin'd,
With ample lines from hill to hill design'd.
Secret and fwift he means the task to try,
And runs each distance over with his eye.

}

51

Vaft heaps of fod and verdant turf are brought,
And stones in deep laborious quarries wrought;

Each Grecian, dwelling round the work supplies,
And fudden ramparts from their ruins rife.
With wondrous ftrength the ftable mound they rear,
Such as th' impetuous ram can never fear,
Nor hoftile might o'erturn, nor forceful engine tear.
Through hills, refiftlefs, Cæfar plains his way,
And makes the rough unequal rocks obey.
Here deep, beneath, the gaping trenches lie,
There forts advance their airy turrets high.
Around vast tracts of land the labours wind,
Wide fields and forefts in the circle bind,
And hold as in a toil the favage kind.
Nor ev'n the foe too ftrictly pent remains,
At large he forages upon the plains;
The vaft inclosure gives free leave around,
Oft to decamp, and shift the various ground,

55

60

70

Here,

Here, from far fountains, ftreams their channels trace,
And, while they wander through the tedious pace,
Run many a mile their long extended race :
While fome, quite worn and weary of the way,
Sink, and are loft before they reach the sea :

Ev'n Cæfar's felf, when through the works he goes,
Tires in the midft, and ftops to take repofe.

Let fame no more record the walls of Troy,
Which gods alone could build, and gods deftroy;
Nor let the Parthian wonder, to have feen
The labours of the Babylonian queen :

Behold this large, this fpacious tract of ground!
Like that, which Tigris or Orontes bound;
Behold this land! that majefty might bring,
And form a kingdom for an eastern king ;
Behold a Latian chief this land inclofe,
Amidst the tumult of impending foes:

He bade the walls arife, and as he bade they rofe.
But ah! vain pride of power! ah! fruitless boaft!
Ev'n thefe, thefe mighty labours are all loft!
A force like this what barriers could withstand?
Seas must have fled, and yielded to the land;
The lovers fhores united might have stood,
Spite of the Hellefpont's oppofing flood;
While the Ægean and Ionian tide,

Might meeting o'er the vanquish'd Ifthmus ride,
And Argive realms from Corinth's walls divide;
This power might change unwilling nature's face,
Unfix each order, and remove each place.

R4

75

80

85

Here,

Here, as if clos'd within a lift, the war

Does all its valiant combatants prepare;

Here ardent glows the blood, which fate ordains
To dye the Libyan and Emathian plains;
Here the whole rage of civil difcord join'd,
Struggles for room, and scorns to be confin'd.
Nor yet, while Cæfar his first labours try'd,
The warlike toil by Pompey was defcry'd.
So, in mid Sicily's delightful plain,
Safe from the horrid found, the happy swain
Dreads not loud Scylla barking o'er the main.
So, northern Britons never hear the roar
Of feas, that break on the far Cantian fhore.
Soon as the rifing ramparts hoftile height,
And towers advancing, ftruck his anxious fight,
Sudden from Petra's fafer camp he led,
And wide his legions on the hills dispread;
So, Cæfar, forc'd his numbers to extend,
More feebly might each various strength defend.
His camp far o'er the large inclosure reach'd,

And guarded lines along the front were stretch'd; 120
Far as Rome's distance from Aricia's groves,

(Aricia which the chaste Diana loves)
Far as from Rome old Tiber feeks the fea,
Did he not wander in his winding way.
While yet no fignals for the fight prepare,
Unbidden, fome the javelin dart from far,
And, fkirmishing, provoke the lingering war.
But deeper cares the thoughtful chiefs distress,
And move, the foldiers ardour to repress.

124

Pompey,

Pompey, with fecret anxious thought, beheld,
How trampling hoofs the rising grass repell'd;
Waste lie the ruffet fields, the generous fteed
Seeks on the naked foil, in vain, to feed:
Loathing from racks of husky straw he turns,
And, pining, for the verdant pasture mourns.
No more his limbs their dying load sustain,
Aiming a ftride, he falters in the ftrain,
And finks a ruin on the withering plain :
Dire maladies upon his vitals prey,

Diffolve his frame, and melt the mafs away.
Thence deadly plagues invade the lazy air,
Reek to the clouds, and hang malignant there.
From Nefis such, the Stygian vapours rise,
And with contagion taint the purer skies ;

Such do Typhoeus' steamy caves convey,

130

135

}

140

And breathe blue poifons on the golden day.,
Thence liquid streams the mingling plague receive,
And deadly potions to the thirty give:
To man the mischief spreads, the fell disease
In fatal draughts does on his entrails feize.
A'rugged fcurf, all loathfom to be seen,
Spreads, like a bark, upon his filken skin;
Malignant flames his fwelling eye-balls dart,
And feem with anguish from their feats to start;
Fires o'er his glowing cheeks and visage stray,
And mark, in crimson ftreaks, their burning way;
Low droops his head, declining from its height,
And nods, and totters with the fatal weight.
With winged hafte the swift deftruction flies,
And scarce the foldier fickens ere he dies;

145

1501

1555

160

Now