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As Snow defcending from fome lofty Hill,
Is by its rowling Course augmenting ftill;
So from illuftrious Authors down have rowl'd
Thofe great Encomiums he receiv'd of old :
Republick Orators ftill fhew Efteem,

And guild their Eloquence with Praise of him. But Truth unvail'd like a bright Sun appears,

To fhine away this Heap of fev'nteen hundred Years.

III.

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In vain 'tis urg'd by an illuftrious Wit,

(To whom in all befides I willingly submit)

That CÆSAR's Life no Pity could deferve
From one who kill'd himself, rather than serve.

Had BRUTUS Chofe rather himself to flay,

Than any Master to obey;

Happy for Rome had been that noble Pride;

The World had then remain'd in Peace, and only

BRUTUS dy'd.

For

For he, whofe Soul difdains to own

Subjection to a Tyrant's Frown,

And his own Life would rather end 3

Would, fure, much rather kill himself, than only hurt his Friend.

To his own Sword in the Philippian Field
BRUTUS indeed at laft did yield;

But in those Times Self-killing was not rare;
And his proceeded only from Despair :
He might have chofen elfe to live,

In hopes another CASAR would forgive;

Then for the good of Rome he could once more Confpire against a Life which had fpared his before.

IV.

Our Country challenges our utmost Care,

And in our Thoughts deferves the tender'ft Share;
Her to a thousand Friends we should prefer ;
Yet not betray 'em tho' it be for her.

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Hard is his Heart whom no Defert can move

A Mistress, or a Friend to love,

Above whate'er he does befides enjoy ;

But may he for their fakes, his Sire, or Sons destroy? For facred Juftice, or for publick Good,

Scorn'd be our Wealth, our Honour, and our Blood:

In fuch a Cause, Want is a happy State;

Ev'n low Difgrace would be a glorious Fate;
And Death itself, when noble Fame survives,

More to be valu'd than a thousand Lives.

But 'tis not, furely, of fo fair Renown,
To spill another's Blood, as to expose our own;
Of all that's ours we cannot give too much;

But what belongs to Friendship, oh, 'tis Sacrilege to

touch.

V.

Can we ftand by unmov'd, and fee

Our Mother robb'd and ravish'd? Can we be

Excus'd,

Excus'd, if in her Caufe we never ftir,

Pleas'd with the Strength and Beauty of the Ravisher; Thus fings our Bard with almost Heat divine;

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Tis pity that his Thought was not as strong as fine. Would it more justly did the Case express,

Or that its Beauty and its Grace were lefs.

(Thus a Nymph fometimes we fee,

Who fo charming feems to be,

That, jealous of a soft Surprize,

We scarce durft truft our eager Eyes) Such a fallacious Ambush to escape,

It were but vain to plead a willing Rape;

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A valiant Son would be provok'd the more;

A " Force we therefore muft confefs, but acted long

before

A Marriage fince did intervene,

With all the folemn and the facred Scene;

Loud was the Hymenean Song;

The violated✶ Dame walk'd smilingly along,

Rome.

L 4

And

And in the midft of the moft facred Dance,

As if enamour'd of his Sight,

Often fhe caft a kind admiring glance

On the bold Strugler for delight;

Who afterwards appear'd fo moderate, and cool,
As if for publick Good alone he fo defir'd to rule.

VI.

But oh, that this were all which we can urge
Against a Roman of fo great a Soul !

P

And that fair Truth permitted us to purge

His Fact, of what appears fo foul!

Friendship, that facred, and fublimeft thing!

The nobleft Quality, and chiefeft Good,

(In this dull Age fcarce understood)

Infpires us with unufual Warmth, her injur❜d Rites to fing.

Affift, ye Angels, whofe immortal Bliss,

Tho' more refin'd, chiefly confists in this!

How /

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