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Rome o'ergrew her strength. So when that hour,

       The last in all the centuries, shall sound

       The world's disruption, all things shall revert

       To that primaeval chaos, stars on stars

       Shall crash; and fiery meteors from the sky

       Plunge in the ocean. Earth shall then no more

       Front with her bulwark the encroaching sea:

       The moon, indignant at her path oblique,

       Shall drive her chariot 'gainst her brother Sun

       And claim the day for hers; and discord huge

       Shall rend the spheres asunder.

       On themselves

       Great powers are dashed: such bounds the gods have placed

       Upon the prosperous; nor doth Fortune lend

       To any nations, so that they may strike

       The sovereign power that rules the earth and sea,

       The weapons of her envy. Triple reign

       And baleful compact for divided power —

       Ne'er without peril separate before —

       Made Rome their victim. Oh! Ambition blind,

       That stirred the leaders so to join their strength

       In peace that ended ill, their prize the world!

       For while the Sea on Earth and Earth on Air

       Lean for support: while Titan runs his course,

       And night with day divides an equal sphere,

       No king shall brook his fellow, nor shall power

       Endure a rival. Search no foreign lands:

       These walls are proof that in their infant days

       A hamlet, not the world, was prize enough

       To cause the shedding of a brother's blood.

      Concord, on discord based, brief time endured,

       Unwelcome to the rivals; and alone

       Crassus delayed the advent of the war.

       Like to the slender neck that separates

       The seas of Graecia: should it be engulfed

       Then would th' Ionian and Aegean mains (4)

       Break each on other: thus when Crassus fell,

       Who held apart the chiefs, in piteous death,

       And stained Assyria's plains with Latian blood,

       Defeat in Parthia loosed the war in Rome.

       More in that victory than ye thought was won,

       Ye sons of Arsaces; your conquered foes

       Took at your hands the rage of civil strife.

       The mighty realm that earth and sea contained,

       To which all peoples bowed, split by the sword,

       Could not find space for two (5). For Julia bore,

       Cut off by fate unpitying(6), the bond

       Of that ill-omened marriage, and the pledge

       Of blood united, to the shades below.

       Had'st thou but longer stayed, it had been thine

       To keep the husband and the sire apart,

       And, as the Sabine women did of old,

       Dash down the threatening swords and join the hands.

       With thee all trust was buried, and the chiefs

       Could give their courage vent, and rushed to war.

      Lest newer glories triumphs past obscure,

       Late conquered Gaul the bays from pirates won,

       This, Magnus, was thy fear; thy roll of fame,

       Of glorious deeds accomplished for the state

       Allows no equal; nor will Caesar's pride

       A prior rival in his triumphs brook;

       Which had the right 'twere impious to enquire;

       Each for his cause can vouch a judge supreme;

       The victor, heaven: the vanquished, Cato, thee. (7)

       Nor were they like to like: the one in years

       Now verging towards decay, in times of peace

       Had unlearned war; but thirsting for applause

       Had given the people much, and proud of fame

       His former glory cared not to renew,

       But joyed in plaudits of the theatre, (8)

       His gift to Rome: his triumphs in the past,

       Himself the shadow of a mighty name.

       As when some oak, in fruitful field sublime,

       Adorned with venerable spoils, and gifts

       Of bygone leaders, by its weight to earth

       With feeble roots still clings; its naked arms

       And hollow trunk, though leafless, give a shade;

       And though condemned beneath the tempest's shock

       To speedy fall, amid the sturdier trees

       In sacred grandeur rules the forest still.

       No such repute had Ceesar won, nor fame;

       But energy was his that could not rest —

       The only shame he knew was not to win.

       Keen and unvanquished (9), where revenge or hope

       Might call, resistless would he strike the blow

       With sword unpitying: every victory won

       Reaped to the full; the favour of the gods

       Pressed to the utmost; all that stayed his course

       Aimed at the summit of power, was thrust aside:

       Triumph his joy, though ruin marked his track.

       As parts the clouds a bolt by winds compelled,

       With crack of riven air and crash of worlds,

       And veils the light of day, and on mankind,

       Blasting their vision with its flames oblique,

       Sheds deadly fright; then turning to its home, '

       Nought but the air opposing, through its path

       Spreads havoc, and collects its scattered fires.

      Such were the hidden motives of the chiefs;

       But in the public life the seeds of war

       Their hold had taken, such as are the doom

       Of potent nations: and when fortune poured

       Through Roman gates the booty of a world,

       The curse of luxury, chief bane of states,

       Fell on her sons. Farewell the ancient ways!

       Behold the pomp profuse, the houses decked

       With ornament; their hunger loathed the food

       Of former days; men wore attire for dames

       Scarce fitly fashioned; poverty was scorned,

       Fruitful of warriors; and from all the world

       Came that which ruins nations; while the fields

       Furrowed of yore by great Camillus' plough,

       Or by the mattock which a Curius held,

       Lost their once narrow bounds, and widening tracts

       By hinds unknown were tilled. No nation this

       To sheathe the sword, with tranquil peace content

      

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