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Here, from far fountains, streams their channels trace,
And, while they wander through the tedious fpace,
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 fea
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 destroy;
Nor let the Parthian wonder, to have feen
The labours of the Babylonian queen :

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Behold this large, this fpacious tract of ground!
Like that, which Tigris or Orontes bound;
Behold this land! that majefty might bring,

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And form a kingdom for an eastern king;
Behold a Latian chief this land inclose,
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 boat!
Ev'n thefe, these mighty labours are all loft!
A force like this what barriers could withstand?
Seas must have fled, and yielded to the land;
The lovers shores united might have stood,
Spite of the Hellefpont's oppofing flood;
While the Ægean and Ionian tide,

Might meeting o'er the vanquifh'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

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Here,

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

Does all its valiant combatants prepare;

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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 fcorns to be confin'd.
Nor yet, while Cæfar his first labours try'd,
The warlike toil by Pompey was descry’d.
So, in mid Sicily's delightful plain,
Safe from the horrid found, the happy fwain
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 difpread;
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;
Far as Rome's distance from Aricia's groves,
(Aricia which the chaste Diana loves)
Far as from Rome old Tiber seeks the sea,
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 reprefs.

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III.

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Pompey,

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Pompey, with fecret anxious thought, beheld,
How trampling hoofs the rifing grafs repell'd;
Waste lie the ruffet fields, the generous steed
Seeks on the naked foil, in vain, to feed:
Loathing from racks of husky straw he turns,
And, pining, for the verdant pafture mourns.
No more his limbs their dying load fuftain,
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 fuch, the Stygian vapours rife,
And with contagion taint the purer fkies;
Such do Typhoeus' fteamy caves convey,
And breathe blue poifons on the golden day.
Thence liquid ftreams the mingling plague receive,
And deadly potions to the thirsty give :

To man the mischief spreads, the fell disease

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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 anguifh from their feats to start;
Fires o'er his glowing cheeks and visage stray,
And mark, in crimson streaks, their burning way;
Low droops his head, declining from its height,
And nods, and totters with the fatal weight.
With winged hafte the fwift deftruction flies,.
And fcarce the foldier fickens ere he dies;

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Now

Now falling crouds at once refign their breath,
And doubly taint the noxious air with death.
Careless their putrid carcafes are spread ;
And on the earth, their dank unwholfome bed,
The living reft in common with the dead.

Here none the last funereal rites receive;

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To be caft forth the camp, is all their friends can give..
At length kind heaven their forrows bade to cease,
And ftaid the peftilential foe's increase ;

Fresh breezes from the fea begin to rife,
While Boreas through the lazy vapour flies,
And fweeps, with healthy wings, the rank polluted
fkies.

Arriving veffels now their freight unload,

And furnish plenteous harvests from abroad:
Now fprightly ftrength, now chearful health, returns, 175
And life's fair lamp, rekindled, brightly burns.
But Cæfar, unconfin'd, and camp'd on high,
Feels not the mischief of the fluggish sky:
On hills fublime he breathes the purer air,
And drinks no damps, nor poisonous vapours, there. 180
Yet hunger keen an equal plague is found;
Famine and meagre want befiege him round-
The fields, as yet, no hopes of harvest wear,
Nor yellow ftems difclose the bearded ear.
The fcatter'd vulgar fearch around the fields,
And pluck whate'er the doubtful herbage yields;
Some strip the trees in every neighbouring wood,
And with the cattle fhare their graffy food.
Whate'er the foftening flame can pliant make,
Whate'er the teeth, or labouring jaws, can break; 190

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What

What flesh, what roots, what herbs foe'er they get,
Though new, and strange to human taste as yet,
At once the greedy foldiers feize and eat.

What want, what pain foe'er they undergo,

Still they perfift in arms, and clofe befet the foe. 195 At length, impatient longer to be held

Within the bounds of one appointed field,

O'er every
Pompey refolves to force his warlike way;
Wide o'er the world the ranging war to lead,
And give his loofen'd legions room to spread.
Nor takes he mean advantage from the night,
Nor steals a paffage, nor declines the fight;
But bravely dares, difdainful of the foe,

bar which might his paffage stay,

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Through the proud towers and ramparts breach to go. 205
Where fhining fpears, and crefted helms are seen,

Embattled thick to guard the walls within;
Where all things death, where ruin all afford,
There Pompey marks a paffage for his sword.
Near to the camp a woody thicket lay,

Close was the shade, nor did the greenfward way,
With fmoky clouds of duft, the march betray.
Hence, fudden they appear in dread array,
Sudden their wide-extended ranks display;
At once the foe beholds with wondering eyes,
Where on broad wings Pompeian eagles rife ;
At once the warriors fhouts and trumpet-founds
furprise.

Scarce was the fword's deftruction needful here,,
So fwiftly ran before preventing fear;

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