V. THE DOOM OF REGULUS. We knew he reigned supreme on high When Jove in thunder spoke; Augustus is our deity On earth; 'tis he who broke The distant Briton to his sway, And made the savage Mede obey. Have not the men whom Crassus led- Grey-headed grown in barbarous lands, Forgotten are the sacred shields, The glories that the toga yields Are all from memory driven ; And Vesta's everlasting flame, Though Jove stands firm, and Rome the same. But Regulus foresaw the ill, What time he laughed to scorn Base terms of peace, and counselled still For ages yet unborn, And knew the woes of after years, If captive's doom were changed by tears. 'These eyes have seen,' the hero cried, The banners bright of Rome, Placed Carthaginian shrines beside, Adorn a foreign home, And weapons taken by the foe,— 'And I have seen his arms fast bound 'Say, has the ransomed warrior fought As bravely as before? It is a wrong and fatal thought To send him back to war. 'So when true valour once has fled, Herself a coward's guest. If when she's freed from hunter's nets The stricken hind her wounds forgets, 'Then he who once his arms and life Has yielded to the foe May yet again be brave in strife And deal a fatal blow; He who has felt the conqueror tie His dastard limbs, nor dared to die. 'He fears to trust his sword alone, O Romans, how are ye undone ! How proudly dost thou soar on high They say that from his weeping bride The hero hid his face, His little sons he put aside And cared not to embrace, But fixed his gaze upon the ground, Until his counsel might persuade And forth 'mid friendship's sob and sigh The glorious exile went to die. Though well he knew what he must fear From torture's horrid art, His sorrowing kin that thronged him near And pushed aside the anxious crowd And so he left them all, like one Whose clients' weary work is done, And forthwith speeds away, VI. TO THE ROMANS. Guiltless yourself, your father's crimes, Are doomed to expiate; Till in fit shrines you place your gods, And cleanse their smoke-begrimed abodes, And temples reinstate. You rule because the gods you fear : Twice have the Parthian armies foiled Dacian and Ethiop, both have come With fleet and bow to menace Rome, With civil tumults rife. The age has dared to violate, And race and birth confound. Not from such sires the heroes brave Were born and bred, who stained the wave Of old with Punic blood, Who levelled low proud Pyrrhus' might, And Syria's monarch put to flight, And Hannibal withstood. A hardy brood were they to toil, When o'er the hills Sol's fading beam O Time, what dost thou not debase! And we ourselves, more prone to ill, VII. TO ASTERIE. Why weep, Asterie, for your swain, Whom spring's first gales will bring again Enriched by trade, a happy youth, Gyges, renowned for constant truth? |