Till fore diftrefs'd and deftitute of food,
He ftain'd his hungry jaws with human blood;
Till half his hoft the other half devour'd,
And left the Nile behind them unexplor'd.
Of thy forbidden head, thou sacred stream,
Nor fiction dares to speak, nor poets dream.
Through various nations roll thy waters down,
By many feen, though ftill by all unknown;
No land presumes to claim thee for her own.
For me, my humble tale no more shall tell,
Than what our just records demonstrate well;
Than God, who bade thee thus mysterious flow,
Permits the narrow mind of man to know.
Far in the fouth the daring waters rife,
As in difdain of Cancer's burning skies;
Thence, with a downward course, they feek the main,
Direct against the lazy northern wain ;
Unless when, partially, thy winding tide
Turns to the Libyan or Arabian side.
The diftant Seres firft behold the flow;
Nor yet thy fpring the diftant Seres know.
'Midft footy Ethiops, next, thy current roams;
The footy Ethiops wonder whence it comes:
Nature conceals thy infant ftream with care,
Nor lets thee, but in majefty, appear.
Upon thy banks aftonish'd nations stand,
Nor dare affign thy rife, to one peculiar land.
Exempt from vulgar laws thy waters run,
Nor take their various feafons from the fun :
Though high in heaven the fiery solstice stand,
Obedient winter comes at thy command.
From pole to pole thy boundless waves extend;
One never knows thy rife, nor one thy end.
By Meroë thy ftream divided roves,
And winds encircling round her ebon groves;
Of fable hue the coftly timbers stand,
Dark as the fwarthy natives of the land:
Yet, though tall woods in wide abundance spread, 460
Their leafy tops afford no friendly shade;
So vertically fhine the folar rays,
And from the Lion dart the downward blaze.
From thence, through deferts dry, thou journey'st on,
Nor fhrink'ft, diminish'd by the Torrid Zone,
Strong in thyself, collected, full, and one.
Anon, thy ftreams are parcel'd o'er the plain,
Anon the scatter'd currents meet again;
Jointly they flow, where Phila's gates divide
Our fertile Ægypt from Arabia's fide;
Thence, with a peaceful, foft defcent, they creep,
And feek, infenfibly, the diftant deep;
Till through feven mouths the famous flood is loft,
On the last limits of our Pharian coaft;
Where Gaza's ifthmus rifes, to refrain
The Erythræan from the midland main.
Who that beholds thee, Nile! thus gently flow,
With fcarce a wrinkle on thy glaffy brow,
Can guess thy rage, when rocks refift thy force,
And hurl thee headlong in thy downward course; 480
When fpouting cataracts thy torrent pour,
And nations tremble at the deafening roar;
When thy proud waves with indignation rife,
And dash their foamy fury to the skies?
These wonders reedy Abatos can tell,
And the tall cliffs that firft declare thy fwell;
The cliffs with ignorance of old believ'd
Thy parent veins, and for thy fpring receiv'd.
From thence huge mountains nature's hand provides,
To bank thy too luxurious river's fides ;
As in a vale thy current she restrains,
Nor fuffers thee to spread the Libyan plains:
At Memphis, firft, free liberty fhe yields,
And lets thee loofe to float the thirsty fields.
In unfufpected peace fecurely laid,
Thus waste they filent night's declining shade.
Meanwhile accuftom'd Furies still infest,
With ufual rage, Pothinus' horrid breast;
Nor can the ruffian's hand from slaughter reft.
Well may the wretch, distain'd with Pompey's blood,
Think every other dreadful action good.
Within him still the fnaky fifters dwell,
And urge his foul with all the powers of hell.
Can fortune to fuch hands fuch mischief doom,
And let a flave revenge the wrongs of Rome!
Prevent th' example, pre-ordain'd to stand
The great renown of Brutus' righteous hand!
Forbid it, gods! that Cæfar's hallow'd blood,
To Liberty by Fate a victim vow'd,
Should on a lefs occafion e'er be spilt,
And prove a vile Ægyptian eunuch's guilt.
Harden'd by crimes, the bolder villain, now,
Avows his purpose with a daring brow;
Scorns the mean aids of falsehood and surprize,
And openly the victor chief defies.
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Vain in his hopes, nor doubting to fucceed,
He trufts that Cæfar muft, like Pompey, bleed.
The feeble boy to curs'd Achillas' hand
Had, with his army, given his crown's command;
To him, by wicked sympathy of mind,
By leagues and brotherhood of murder join'd,
To him, the first and fittest of his friends,
Thus, by a trufty flave, Pothinus fends :
While stretch'd at ease the great Achillas lies,
And fleep fits heavy on his flothful eyes,
The bargain for our native land is made,
And the dishoneft price already paid.
The former rule no longer now we own,
Ufurping Cleopatra wears the crown.
Doft thou alone withdraw thee from her state,
Nor on the bridals of thy mistress wait?
To-night at large fhe lavithes her charms,
And riots in luxurious Cæfar's arms.
Ere long her brother may the wanton wed,
And reap the refuse of the Roman's bed;
Doubly a bride, then doubly shall she reign,
While Rome and Ægypt wear, by turns, her chain. Nor trust thou to thy credit with the boy,
When arts and eyes, like hers, their powers employ.
Mark with what ease her fatal charms can mould
The heart of Cæfar, ruthlefs, hard, and old?
Were the soft king his thoughtless head to reft,
But for a night, on her incestuous breast;
His crown and friends he 'd barter for the blifs,
And give thy head and mine for one lewd kiss ;
On croffes, or in flames, we should deplore
Her beauty's terrible refiftless power.
On both, her fentence is already pass'd,
She dooms us dead, because we kept her chafte.
What potent hand fhall then affiftance bring?
Cæfar's her lover, and her husband king.
Hafte, I adjure thee by our common guilt,
By that great blood which we in vain have spilt,
Hafte, and let war, let death, with thee return,
And the funereal torch for Hymen's burn.
Whate'er embrace the hoftile charmer hold,
Find, and tranfix her in the lufcious fold.
Nor let the fortune of this Latian Lord
Abath thy courage, or restrain thy fword;
In the fame glorious guilty paths we tread,
That rais'd him up, the world's imperious head.
Like him, we feek dominion for our prize,
And hope, like him, by Pompey's fall to rife.
Witness the stains of yonder blushing wave,
Yon bloody fhore, and yon inglorious grave.
Why fear we then to bring our wish to pass?
This Cæfar is not more than Pompey was.
What though we boaft nor birth, nor noble name,
Nor kindred with fome purple monarch claim?
Confcious of Fate's decree, fuch aid we fcorn,
And know we were for mighty mischief born.
See, how kind Fortune, by this offer'd prey,
Finds means to purge all paft offence away :
With grateful thanks Rome fhall the deed approve,
And this laft merit the first crime remove.
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