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And with her liberties; but prone to ire;

       Crime holding light as though by want compelled:

       And great the glory in the minds of men,

       Ambition lawful even at point of sword,

       To rise above their country: might their law:

       Decrees are forced from Senate and from Plebs:

       Consul and Tribune break the laws alike:

       Bought are the fasces, and the people sell

       For gain their favour: bribery's fatal curse

       Corrupts the annual contests of the Field.

       Then covetous usury rose, and interest

       Was greedier ever as the seasons came;

       Faith tottered; thousands saw their gain in war.

      Caesar has crossed the Alps, his mighty soul

       Great tumults pondering and the coming shock.

       Now on the marge of Rubicon, he saw,

       In face most sorrowful and ghostly guise,

       His trembling country's image; huge it seemed

       Through mists of night obscure; and hoary hair

       Streamed from the lofty front with turrets crowned:

       Torn were her locks and naked were her arms.

       Then thus, with broken sighs the Vision spake:

       "What seek ye, men of Rome? and whither hence

       Bear ye my standards? If by right ye come,

       My citizens, stay here; these are the bounds;

       No further dare." But Caesar's hair was stiff

       With horror as he gazed, and ghastly dread

       Restrained his footsteps on the further bank.

       Then spake he, "Thunderer, who from the rock

       Tarpeian seest the wall of mighty Rome;

       Gods of my race who watched o'er Troy of old;

       Thou Jove of Alba's height, and Vestal fires,

       And rites of Romulus erst rapt to heaven,

       And God-like Rome; be friendly to my quest.

       Not with offence or hostfie arms I come,

       Thy Caesar, conqueror by land and sea,

       Thy soldier here and wheresoe'er thou wilt:

       No other's; his, his only be the guilt

       Whose acts make me thy foe.' He gives the word

       And bids his standards cross the swollen stream.

       So in the wastes of Afric's burning clime

       The lion crouches as his foes draw near,

       Feeding his wrath the while, his lashing tail

       Provokes his fury; stiff upon his neck

       Bristles his mane: deep from his gaping jaws

       Resounds a muttered growl, and should a lance

       Or javelin reach him from the hunter's ring,

       Scorning the puny scratch he bounds afield.

      From modest fountain blood-red Rubicon

       In summer's heat flows on; his pigmy tide

       Creeps through the valleys and with slender marge

       Divides the Italian peasant from the Gaul.

       Then winter gave him strength, and fraught with rain

       The third day's crescent moon; while Eastern winds

       Thawed from the Alpine slopes the yielding snow.

       The cavalry first form across the stream '

       To break the torrent's force; the rest with ease

       Beneath their shelter gain the further bank.

       When Csesar crossed and trod beneath his feet

       The soil of Italy's forbidden fields,

       "Here," spake he, "peace, here broken laws be left;

       Farewell to treaties. Fortune, lead me on;

       War is our judge, and in the fates our trust."

       Then in the shades of night he leads the troops

       Swifter than Balearic sling or shaft

       Winged by retreating Parthian, to the walls

       Of threatened Rimini, while fled the stars,

       Save Lucifer, before the coming sun,

       Whose fires were veiled in clouds, by south wind driven,

       Or else at heaven's command: and thus drew on

       The first dark morning of the civil war.

      Now stand the troops within the captured town,

       Their standards planted; and the trumpet clang

       Rings forth in harsh alarums, giving note

       Of impious strife: roused from their sleep the men

       Rush to the hall and snatch the ancient arms

       Long hanging through the years of peace; the shield

       With crumbling frame; dark with the tooth of rust

       Their swords (10); and javelins with blunted point.

       But when the well-known signs and eagles shone,

       And Caesar towering o'er the throng was seen,

       They shook for terror, fear possessed their limbs,

       And thoughts unuttered stirred within their souls.

       "O miserable those to whom their home

       Denies the peace that all men else enjoy!

       Placed as we are beside the Northern bounds

       And scarce a footstep from the restless Gaul,

       We fall the first; would that our lot had been

       Beneath the Eastern sky, or frozen North,

       To lead a wandering life, rather than keep

       The gates of Latium. Brennus sacked the town

       And Hannibal, and all the Teuton hosts.

       For when the fate of Rome is in the scale

       By this path war advances." Thus they moan

       Their fears but speak them not; no sound is heard

       Giving their anguish utterance: as when

       In depth of winter all the fields are still,

       The birds are voiceless and no sound is heard

       To break the silence of the central sea.

       But when the day had broken through the shades

       Of chilly darkness, lo! the torch of war!

       For by the hand of Fate is swift dispersed

       All Caesar's shame of battle, and his mind

       Scarce doubted more; and Fortune toiled to make

       His action just and give him cause for arms.

       For while Rome doubted and the tongues of men

       Spoke of the chiefs who won them rights of yore,

       The hostile Senate, in contempt of right,

       Drove out the Tribunes. They to Caesar's camp

       With Curio hasten, who of venal tongue,

       Bold, prompt, persuasive, had been wont to preach

       Of Freedom to the people, and to call

       Upon the chiefs to lay their weapons down (11).

       And when he saw

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