My foldiers (often has their faith been try'd)
If not withheld, had haften'd to my fide.
What toil, what hazards will they not partake?
What seas and shipwrecks scorn, for Cæfar's fake?
Nor will I think the gods fo partial are,
To give thee fair Aufonia for thy share;
While Cæfar, and the fenate, are forgot,
And in Epirus bound their barren lot.
In words like thefe, he calls him oft in vain, And thus the hafty miffives oft complain. At length the lucky chief, who oft had found What vaft fuccefs his rafher darings crown'd; Who faw how much the favouring gods had done, 705 Nor would be wanting, when they urg'd him on ; Fierce, and impatient of the tedious stay, Refolves by night to prove the doubtful way: Bold, in a fingle skiff, he means to go,
And tempt thofe feas that navies dare not plow.
'Twas now the time when cares and labour cease, And ev❜n the rage of arms was hush'd to peace : Snatch'd from their guilt and toil, the wretched lay, And slept the founder for the painful day. Through the still camp the night's third hour resounds, And warns the second watches to their rounds; When through the horrors of the murky shade, Secret the careful warriors footsteps tread. His train, unknowing, flept within his tent, And fortune only follow'd where he went. With filent anger he perceiv'd, around, The fleepy fentinels beftrew the ground: Q &
Yet, unreproving, now, he pafs'd them o'er,
And fought with eager haste the winding shore.
There through the gloom, his fearching eyes explor'd, 725
Where to the mouldering rock a bark was moor'd.
The mighty mafter of this little boat,
Securely flept within a neighbouring cot:
No maffy beams fupport his humble hall,
But reeds and marshy rushes wove the wall;
Old shatter'd planking for a roof was spread,
And cover'd in from rain the needy fhed.
Thrice on the feeble door the warrior ftruck,
Beneath the blow the trembling dwelling fhook.
What wretch forlorn (the poor Amyclas cries)
Driven by the raging seas, and stormy skies,
To my poor lowly roof for fhelter flies?
He spoke; and hafty left his homely bed,
With oozy flags and withering fea-weed spread.
Then from the hearth the fmoking match he takes, 740 And in the tow the droufy fire awakes ;
Dry leaves, and chips, for fuel, he fupplies,
Till kindling sparks and glittering flames arife.
Oh happy poverty! thou greatest good,
Bestow'd by heaven, but feldom understood!
Here nor the cruel spoiler feeks his prey,
Nor ruthless armies take their dreadful way:
Security thy narrow limits keeps,
Safe are thy cottages, and found thy fleeps.
Behold! ye dangerous dwellings of the great,
Where gods and godlike princes choose their seat;
See in what peace the poor Amyclas lies,
Nor ftarts, though Cæfar's call commands to rife.
What terrors had you felt, that call to hear!
How had your towers and ramparts shook with fear,
And trembled, as the mighty man drew near!
The door unbarr'd: Expect (the leader faid)
Beyond thy hopes, or wishes, to be paid;
If in this inftant hour thou waft me o'er,
With speedy hafte, to yon Hefperian fhore.
No more fhall want thy weary hand constrain,
To work thy bark upon the boisterous main :
Henceforth good days and plenty shall betide;
The gods and I will for thy age provide.
A glorious change attends thy low eftate,
Sudden and mighty riches round the wait;
Be wife, and use the lucky hour of fate.
Thus he; and though in humble veftments drefs'd,
Spite of himself, his words his power expreis'd,
And Cæfar in his bounty flood confefs'd.
To him the wary pilot thus replies.
A thousand omens threaten from the skies;
A thousand boding figns my foul affright,
And warn me not to tempt the feas by night.
In clouds the fetting fun obfcur'd his head,
Nor painted o'er the ruddy weft with red :
Now north, now south, he shot his parted beams,
And tipp'd the fullen black with golden gleams:
Pale fhone his middle orb with faintifh rays,
And fuffer'd mortal eyes at ease to gaze.
Nor rose the filver queen of night serene,
Supine and dull her blunted horns were seen,
With foggy stains and cloudy blots between.
Q3
Dreadful awhile fhe fhone all fiery red,
Then ficken'd into pale, and hid her drooping head. 785 Nor lefs I fear from that hoarfe hollow roar,
In leafy groves, and on the founding fhore.
In various turns the doubtful dolphins plav,
And thwart, and run across, and mix their way.
The cormorants the watery deep forfake,
And foaring herns avoid the plashy lake;
While, waddling on the margin of the main,
The crow bewets her, and prevents the rain.
Howe'er, if some great enterprize demand,
Behold, I proffer thee my willing hand :
My venturous bark the troubled deep shall try,
To thy wish'd port her plunging prow fhall ply,
Unless the feas refolve to beat us by.
He spoke; and spread his canvas to the wind,
Unmoor'd his boat, and left the shore behind.
Swift flew the nimble keel; and as they paft,
Long trails of light the fhooting meteors caft;
Ev'n the fix'd fires above in motion feem,
Shake through the blast, and dart a quivering beam ;
Black horrors on the gloomy ocean brood,
And in long ridges rolls the threatening flood;
While loud and louder murmuring winds arise,
And growl from every quarter of the skies.
When thus the trembling master, pale with fear,
Behold what wrath the dreadful gods prepare ;
My art is at a lofs; the various tide
Beats my unstable bark on every side:
From the north-weft the fetting current fwells,
While fouthern ftorms the driving rack foretels.
Howe'er it be, our purpos'd way is loft,
Nor can one relick of our wreck be toft
By winds, like thefe, on fair Hefperia's coaft.
Our only means of fafety is to yield,
And measure back with haste the foamy field;
To give our unfuccefsful labour o'er,
And reach, while yet we may, the neighbouring fhore.
But Cæfar, ftill fuperior to distress,
Fearless, and confident of fure fuccefs,
Thus to the pilot loud-The feas defpife,
And the vain threatening of the noisy skies.
Though gods deny thee yon Ausonian strand';
Yet, go, I charge thee, go at my command.
Thy ignorance alone can cause thy fears,
Thou know'ft not what a freight thy vessel bears ;
Thou know'ft not I am he, to whom 'tis given
Never to want the care of watchful heaven.
Obedient fortune waits my humble thrall,
And always ready comes before I call.
Let winds, and feas, loud wars at freedom wage,
And waste upon themselves their empty rage;
A stronger, mightier Dæmon is thy friend,
Thou, and thy bark, on Cæfar's fate depend.
Thou ftand'st amaz'd to view this dreadful fcene;
And wonder'ft what the gods and fortune mean!
But artfully their bounties thus they raife,
And from my dangers arrogate new praise;
Amidft the fears of death they bid me live,
And still inhance what they are fure to give.
Then leave yon fhore behind with all thy hafte,
Nor fhall this idle fury longer laft.
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