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While Cæfar, whom the fubject earth obeys,
To feafons fuch as thefe, his facred felf betrays.
Still wilt thou weary out indulgent heaven,
And scatter all the lavish gods have given?
Doft thou the care of providence employ,
Only to fave thee when the feas run high?
Aufpicious Jove thy wishes would promote;
Thou afk'ft the fafety of a leaky boat :
He proffers thee the world's fupreme command
Thy hopes afpire no farther than to land,
And caft thy fhipwreck on th' Hesperian strand.
In kind reproaches thus they waste the night,
Till the gray east disclos'd the breaking light:
Serene the fun his beamy face difplay'd,
While the tir'd ftorm and weary waves were laid.
Speedy the Latian chiefs unfurl their fails,
And catch the gently-rifing northern gales:
In fair appearance the tall veffels glide,
The pilots, and the wind, confpire to guide,
And waft them fitly o'er the fmoother tide :
Decent they move, like fome well-order'd band, 1029
In rang'd battalions marching o'er the land.
Night fell at length, the winds the fails forfook,
And a dead calm the beauteous order broke.

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So when, from Strymon's wintery banks, the cranes,
In feather'd legions, cut th' æthereal plains;

To warmer Nile they bend their airy way,
Form'd in long lines, and rank'd in just array :
But if some rushing storm the journey cross,
The wingy leaders all are at a lofs:

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Now

Now clofe, now loose, the breaking fquadrons fly, 1030
And scatter in confufion o'er the sky.

The day return'd, with Phoebus Auster rose,
And hard upon the straining canvas blows.
Scudding afore him swift the fleet he bore,
O'er-paffing Lyffus, to Nymphæum's shore;
There safe from northern winds, within the port they

moor.

While thus united Cæfar's arms appear,
And fortune draws the great decision near;
Sad Pompey's foul uneasy thoughts infest,
And his Cornelia pains his anxious breast.
To diftant Lesbos fain he would remove,
Far from the war, the partner of his love.
Oh, who can speak, what numbers can reveal,
The tenderness, which pious lovers feel?

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Who can their fecret pangs and forrows tell,

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With all the croud of cares that in their bofoms dwell?

See what new paffions now the hero knows,

Now first he doubts fuccefs, and fears his foes;

Rome and the world he hazards in the ftrife,
And gives up all to fortune, but his wife.
Oft he prepares to speak, but knows not how,
Knows they must part, but cannot bid her go;
Defers the killing news with fond delay,
And, lingering, puts off Fate from day to day.
The fleeting fhades began to leave the sky,
And flumber foft forfook the drooping eye:

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When, with fond arms, the fair Cornelia preft
Her lord, reluctant, to her snowy breast:

Wonder

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Wondering, the found he shunn'd her juft embrace,
And felt warm tears upon his manly face.
Heart-wounded with the fudden woe, fhe griev'd,
And scarce the weeping warrior yet believ'd.
When, with a groan, thus he : My trueft wife,
To fay how much I love thee more than life,
Poorly expreffes what my heart would show,
Since life, alas! is grown my burden now;
That long, too long delay'd, that dreadful doom,
That cruel parting hour at length is come.
Fierce, haughty, and collected in his might,
Advancing Cæfar calls me to the fight.
Haste then, my gentle love, from war retreat;
The Lesbian ifle attends thy peaceful feat:
Nor feek, oh! feek not to increase my cares,
Seek not to change my purpose with thy prayers;
Myself, in vain, the fruitless fuit have try'd,
And my own pleading heart has been deny'd.
Think not, thy distance will increase thy fear:
Ruin, if ruin comes, will foon be near,
Too foon the fatal news fhall reach thy ear.
Nor burns thy heart with just and equal fires,
Nor doft thou love as virtue's law requires;
If those soft eyes can ev'n thy husband bear,
Red with the stains of blood, and guilty war.
When horrid trumpets found their dire alarms,
Shall I indulge my forrows with thy charms,
And rife to battle from these tender arms?
Thus mournful, from thee, rather let me go,
And join thy abfence to the public woe.

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But

But thou be hid, be fafe from every fear,

While kings and nations in destruction share :
Shun thou the crush of my impending fate,
Nor let it fall on thee with all its weight.
Then if the gods my overthrow ordain,
And the fierce victor chace me o'er the plain,
Thou shalt be left me ftill, my better part,
To footh my cares, and heal my broken heart;
Thy open arms I fhall be fure to meet,

And fly with pleasure to the dear retreat.

Stunn'd and aftonifh'd at the deadly ftroke,
All fenfe, at firft, the matron fad forfook.
Motion, and life, and fpeech, at length returns,
And thus in words of heaviest woe fhe mourns:
No, Pompey! 'tis not that my lord is dead,
Tis not the hand of fate has robb'd my bed;
But like fome bafe plebeian I am curs'd,

And by my cruel hufband ftand divorc'd.
But Cæfar bids us part! thy father comes!
And we must yield to what that tyrant dooms!
Is thy Cornelia's faith fo poorly known,
That thou fhould't think her fafer whilft alone?
Are not our loves, our lives, our fortunes one?
Canft thou, inhuman, drive me from thy fide,
And bid my fingle head the coming ftorm abide ?
Do I not read thy purpose in thy eye?

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Doft thou not hope, and wish, ev'n now to die? 1115 And can I then be fafe? Yet death is free,

That laft relief is not deny'd to me;

Though banish'd by thy harsh command I go,
Yet I will join thee in the realms below.

Thon

Thou bidft me with the pangs of abfence ftrive, 1120
And, till I hear thy certain lofs, furvive.
My vow'd obedience, what it can, shall bear;
But, oh my heart 's a woman, and I fear.

If the good gods, indulgent to my prayer,

Should make the laws of Rome, and thee, their care; In diftant climes I may prolong my woe,

And be the last thy victory to know.

On fome bleak rock that frowns upon the deep,
A constant watch thy weeping wife shall keep;
There from each fail misfortune fhall I guess,
And dread the bark that brings me thy fuccefs.
Nor fhall thofe happier tidings end my fear,
The vanquish'd foe may bring new danger near;
Defenceless I may ftill be made a prize,

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And Cæfar fnatch me with him, as he flies:
With cafe my known retreat he shall explore,
While thy great name diftinguishes, the shore :
Soon fhall the Lesbian exile ftand reveal'd,
The wife of Pompey cannot live conceal'd.
But if th' o'er-ruling powers thy caufe forfake, 1140
Grant me this only last request I make ;
When thou shalt be of troops and friends bereft,
And wretched flight is all thy safety left;

Oh! follow not the dictates of thy heart,
But choose a refuge in fome diftant part.
Where-e'er thy unaufpicious bark shall steer,
Thy fad Cornelia's fatal fhore forbear,
Since Cæfar will be fure to feek thee there.
So faying, with a groan the matron fled,
And, wild with forrow, left her holy bed:
R

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She

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