Our sooty lips no blood have taste, With thirst Tisiphone's dry throat does wast. Since Sylla's sword let out the purple flood, And guilty earth grew fruitful from the blood. The black grim god did thus to Fortune say, Reaching her hand, the yielding earth gave way The fickle goddess, thus returning, said, Father, by all beneath this earth obey'd, If dangerous truths may be with safety told, My thoughts with yours a just proportion hold: No less a rage this willing breast inspires, Nor am I prest with less inflam'd desires; I hate the blessings that to Rome I lent, And of my bounty, now abus'd, repent: Thus the proud height of Rome's aspiring wall, By the same dreadful god 'twas rais'd, shall fall. Their blood I'll offer as a sacrifice, T' appease the ghost of their departed vice. I already see Pharsalian armies slain, The funeral piles of Thessaly and Spain: Egypt and Libya's groans methinks I hear, The dismal sound of arms now strikes my ear, An Actian sea-fight, and retreating fear. Make wide the entrance of your thirsty soil, New spirits must i' th' mighty harvest toil; Charon's too narrow boat can ne're convey, Scarce a whole fleet will waft the souls away; Pale furies be with the vast ruin crown'd, And fill'd with blood, remangle every wound. The universal fabrick of the world, Rent and divided, to your empire's hurl'd. She scarce had spoke; e'er from a cloud there flyes A blasting flame, that bursting shook the skyes; At Jove's avenging thunder, to his hell, From the clos'd earth, affrighted Pluto fell. When soon the angry gods their omens show, That bode destruction and approaching woe: Astonishment surpriz'd the darkned sun, As if the war already were begun; Approaching ills the conscious Cynthia knew, And blushing, from impiety withdrew. With hideous noise the falling mountains cleave; And streams repulst their usual courses leave. Ingaging armies in the clouds appear, And trumpets raising Mars himself to war. Now Ætna's flames with an usual roar Vomit huge bolts of thunder in the air, Amidst the tombs and bones without their urns, Portending spirits send up dismal groans: A comet's seen with stars unknown before, And Jove descending in a bloody show'r: The god these wonders did in short unfold, Cæsar their ills no longer shou'd with-hold. Impatient of revenge, quit Gallick jars, And draw his conquering sword for civil wars. In cloudy Alps, where the divided rock To cunning Grecians did its nerves unlock, Altars devoted to Alcides smoke. The temple with eternal ice is crown'd, Whose milky top so far in clouds is drown'd; You'd think its shoulders in the heavens bound Not the warm rays of a meridian sun, Or the hot southern winds can melt it down.