A theme, which it might well have seemed in vain To attempt with powers of mortal brain; Then least, when Rome—how lately!—claimed of all Her children service at the trumpet’s call. Ev’n still she aches with pangs that she has borne, Glooming dumbly with fear they may return. But, Goddess, I trust! greatly dare to ask: “Shed thy eternal charm upon my task: Bid warfare cease; uplift thy sovereign hand; And blissful Peace will brood o’er sea and land. What can resist Thee? Mars with his alarms? Where lies the God but in thy lovely arms? Slender throat thrown back, see, his hungry eyes Feed upon thine with ever fresh surprise! Queen, he is thine; wound deeply as thou wilt; Sweeter smart than all the blood he has spilt! Cling round him; fold in thy divine embrace; Lift tow’rds his the appeal of thy bright face; Whisper love’s little nothings, till deep calm Steep his whole being in a honeyed balm; And he forget ’twas his murderous car Spread frenzy through our streets of civil War!” But the fever has abated; so long As it is stayed, I will resume my song;— The more gladly if it be heard by One Whom Venus willed long back a Paragon, Adorned with all the gifts that mortal man Has owed her since Humanity began. A Memmius is by that illustrious name Pledged not to stand aloof from Rome aflame; And thou didst thy part; but, the crisis past, Thou now, my Lord and Friend, art free at last. Yet weigh all well; I have toiled hard to learn, And with pains equal held it my concern, When I myself was satisfied, to find Means to pass truths into another mind. No less a duty, if thou undertake, Wilt thou betray, if thou should then forsake! Away with mean cares; give, if aught, thy whole— The sum of Reason—that which makes the Soul! Philosophy Bk. II. vv. 1-60 “Listen! the waves hiss, and loud the winds roar! See! a ship drifts on a lee shore! “Help!” No help; a whole crew on the beach dead. Alas poor souls! I sleep on a good bed. And lo! two hosts in line of battle drawn. Thousands will not wake at next dawn! To be killed, or kill—life or death for those— I wonder which; happy I cannot lose!” Count not men Molochs that with passive eyes, They witness neighbours’ agonies. Bodily ills all; how should bodies care For others’ ills? Each has its own to bear. Easily flow our tears when others weep; As easily we fall asleep; When Havoc stalks abroad, content we see Other flesh in pain from which ours is free! Let flesh be flesh; we by rough ways and bleak Will climb up to the mountain peak; And entering through guarded ramparts there Find peace from flesh in temples stately, fair; Work of wise builders, where a welcome waits, With keys to life, within the gates. That riddle many have tried, and not guessed; They wander, spirit in flesh; nowhere rest.