Classic Poem

Enough of snow and hail in tempests dire
Have poured on earth, while heaven's eternal Sire
With red right arm at his own temples hurled
His thunders, and alarmed a guilty world.

Lest Pyrrha should again with plaintive cries
Behold the monsters of the deep arise,
When to the mountain summit Proteus drove
His sea-born herd, and where the woodland dove

Late percht, his wonted seat, the scaly brood
Entangled hung upon the topmost wood,
And every timorous native of the plain,
High floating, swam amid the boundless main.

We saw, pusht backward to his native source,
The yellow Tiber roll his rapid course;
With impious ruin threatening Vesta's fane,
And the great monuments of Numa's reign;

With grief and rage while Ilia's bosom glows,
Boastful, for her revenge, his waters rose;
But now the uxorious river glides away,
So Jove commands, smooth-winding to the sea.

And yet, less numerous by their parents' crimes,
Our sons shall hear, shall hear to latest times,
Of Roman arms with civil gore imbrued,
Which better had the Persian foe subdued.

Among her guardian gods, what pitying power
To raise her sinking state shall Rome implore?
Shall her own hallowed virgins' earnest prayer
Harmonious charm offended Vesta's ear?

To whom shall Jove assign to purge away
The guilty deed? Come, then, bright god of day,
But gracious veil thy shoulders, beamy bright,
Oh! veil in clouds the unsufferable light.

Or come, sweet queen of smiles, while round thee rove
On wanton wing, the powers of mirth and love;
Or hither, Mars, thine aspect gracious bend,
And, powerful, thy neglected race defend.

Parent of Rome, amidst the rage of fight
Sated with scenes of blood, thy fierce delight,
Thou, whom the polisht helm, the noise of arms
And the stern soldier's frown with transport warms:

Or thou, fair Maia's winged son, appear,
And human shape in prime of manhood wear;
Declared the guardian of the imperial state,
Divine avenger of great Caesar's fate;

Oh! late return to heaven, and may thy reign
With lengthened blessings fill thy wide domain!
Nor let thy people's crimes provoke thy flight
On airy pinions to the realms of light.

Great prince and father of the state, receive
The noblest triumphs which thy Rome can give;
Nor let the Parthian with unpunished pride,
Beyond his bounds, O Caesar, dare to ride.