But foon behold the bolder youth returns, 1075 While, half confun'd, the fmouldering carcafe burns; Ere yet the cleanfing fire had melted down

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}

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The fleshy muscles, from the firmer bone.
He quench'd the relics in the briny wave,
And hid them, hafty, in a narrow grave:
Then with a stone the facred duft he binds,
To guard it from the breath of scattering winds :
And left fome heedlefs mariner fhould come,
And violate the warrior's humble tomb;
Thus with a line the monument he keeps,
"Beneath this ftone the once great Pompey fleeps."
Oh fortune! can thy malice fwell so high?
Canft thou with Cæfar's every with comply?
Must he, thy Pompey once, thus meanly lie?
But oh! forbear, mistaken man, forbear!
Nor dare to fix the mighty Pompey there :
Where there are feas, or air, or earth, or skies,
Where-e'er Rome's empire ftretches, Pompey lies:
Far be the vile memorial then convey'd!
Nor let this stone the partial gods upbraid.
Shall Hercules all Oeta's heights demand,
And Nyfa's hill, for Bacchus only, stand;
While one poor pebble is the warrior's doom,
That fought the cause of liberty and Rome?
If fate decrees he must in Ægypt lie,
Let the whole fertile realm his grave supply:
Yield the wide country to his awful shade,
Nor let us bear on any part to tread,

Fearful to violate the mighty dead.

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But

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}

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But if one ftone muft bear the facred name,
Let it be fill'd with long records of fame.
There let the paffenger, with wonder, read,
The pirates vanquish'd, and the ocean freed
Sertorius taught to yield; the Alpine war;
And the young Roman knight's triumphal car.
With thefe, the mighty Pontic king be plac'd,
And every nation of the vanquifh'd east :
Tell with what loud applaufe of Rome, he drove
Thrice his glad wheels to Capitolian Jove:
Tell too, the patriot's greatest, beft renown,
Tell, how the victor laid his empire down,
And chang'd his armour for the peaceful gown.
But ah! what marbles to the talk fuffice!
Inftead of thefe, turn, Roman, turn thy eyes;
Seck the known name our Fafti us'd to wear,
The noble mark of many a glorious year;
The name that wont the trophy'd arch to grace,
And ev'n the temples of the gods found place :
Decline thee lowly, bending to the ground,
And there that name, that Pompey may be found. 1125
Oh fatal land! what curfe can I bestow,
Equal to thofe, we to thy mischiefs owe?
Well did the wife Cumaan maid of yore
Warn our Hefperian chiefs to shun thy shore.
Forbid, juft heavens! your dews to blefs the foil, 1130
And thou withhold thy waters, fruitful Nile!
Like Ægypt, like the land of Æthiops, burn,
And her fat earth to fandy deferts turn.
Have we, with honours, dead Ofiris crown'd,
And mourn'd him to the tinkling timbrel's found;

Receiv'd

Receiv'd her Ifis to divine abodes,

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And rank'd her dogs deform'd with Roman gods;
While, in defpite to Pompey's injur'd shade,
Low in her duft his facred bones are laid!
And thou, oh Rome! by whofe forgetful hand
Altars and temples, rear'd to tyrants, stand,
Can't thou negle& to call thy hero home,
And leave his ghoft in banishment to roam?
What though the victor's frown, and thy base fear,
Bad thee, at first, the pious task forbear;

Yet now, at leaft, oh let him now return,
And reft with honour in a Roman urn.
Nor let mistaken fuperftition dread,

On fuch occafions, to disturb the dead:

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Oh! would commanding Rome my hand employ, 1150
The impious task should be perform'd with joy
How would I fly to tear him from the tomb,
And bear his afhes in my bofom home!
Perhaps, when flames their dreadful ravage make,
Or groaning earth fhall from the center shake;
When blasting dews the rifing harveft feize,
Or nations ficken with fome dire difeafe:

The gods, in mercy to us, fhall command
To fetch our Pompey from th' accurfed land.
Then, when his venerable bones draw near,
In long proceffions shall the priests appear,
And their great chief the facred relicks bear.
Or if thou ftill poffefs the Pharian fhore,
What traveller but shall thy grave explore;
Whether he tread Syene's burning foil,
Or visit fultry Thebes, or fruitful Nile :

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Or

Or if the merchants drawn by hopes of gain,
Seek rich Arabia, and the ruddy main;
With holy rites thy fhade fhall he atone,
And bow before thy venerable ftone.
For who but shall prefer thy tomb above
The meaner fane of an Ægyptian Jove?
Nor envy thou, if abject Romans raise
Statues and temples, to their tyrant's praife;
Though his proud name on altars may prefide,
And thine be wash'd by every rolling tide;
Thy grave shall the vain pageantry despise,

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Thy grave, where that great god, thy fortune, lies.
Ev'n those who kneel not to the gods above,
Nor offer facrifice or prayer to Jove,
To the Bidental bend their humble eyes,
And worship where the bury'd thunder lies.
Perhaps fate wills, in honour to thy fame,
No marble fhall record thy mighty name.
So may thy duft, ere long, be worn away,
And all remembrance of thy wrongs decay:
Perhaps a better age fhall come, when none
Shall think thee ever laid beneath this stone;
When Ægypt's boast of Pompey's tomb shall prove
As unbeliev'd a tale, as Crete relates of Jove.

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LUCAN'S

LUCAN'S PHARSALIA.

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IX.

THE ARGUMENT.

The poet having ended the foregoing book with the death of Pompey, begins this with his Apotheofis; from thence, after a fhort account of Cato's gathering up the relicks of the battle of Pharfalia, and tranfporting them to Cyrene in Africa, he goes on to defcribe Cornelia's paffion upon the death of her husband. Amongst other things, fhe informs his fon Sextus of his father's laft commands, to continue the war in defence of the commonwealth. Sextus fets fail for Cato's camp, where he meets his elder brother Cn. Pompeius, and acquaints him with the fate of their father. Upon this occafion the poet defcribes the rage of the elder Pompey, and the diforders that happened in the camp, both which Cato appeafes. To prevent any future inconvenience of this kind, he refolves to put them upon action, and in order to that to join with Juba. After a defcription of the Syrts, and their dangerous paffage by them, follows Cato's fpeech to encourage the foldiers to march through the deferts of Libya; then an account of Libya, the deferts, and their march. In the middle of which is a beautiful digreffion concerning the temple of Jupiter-Ammon, with Labienus's perfuafion to Cato to enquire of the oracle concerning the event of the war, and Cato's famous answer. From thence, after a warm elogy upon Cato, the author goes on to the account of the original of ferpents in Afric; and this, with the defcription of the various kinds, and the feveral deaths of the

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