Many a yeare these furious broiles let last,

Why should we wish the gods should ever end them ? War onely giues vs peace, o Rome continue

The course of mischiefe, and stretch out the date
Of slaughter; onely ciuill broiles make peace.
These sad presages were enough to scarre

Pean whither am I halde ? where shall I fall?

So runnes a Matron through th'amazed streetes,
Disclosing Phoebus furie in this sort :

The quiuering Romans, but worse things affright them. As Manus full of wine on Pindus raués,

075

Thus borne aloft I see Pangeus hill,

With hoarie toppe, and vnder Hemus mount

Philippi plaines; Phabus what radge is this?

680

Why grapples Rome, and makes war, hauing no foes?

Whither turne I now? thou lead'st me toward th’east, Where Nile augmenteth the Pelusian sea :

685

This headlesse trunke that lies on Nylus sande
I know: now throughout the aire I flie,
To doubtfull Sirtes and drie Affricke, where

A fury leades the Emathian bandes; from thence
To the pine bearing hils, hence to the mounts
Pirene, and so backe to Rome againe.
Se impious warre defiles the Senat house,
New factions rise; now through the world againe
I goe; o Phabus shew me Neptunes shore,
And other Regions, I haue seene Philippi:
This said, being tir'd with fury she sunke downe.

690

FINIS

667 furious] firious 1600 thoroughout Dyce, Bull.

674 Mænas Dyce etc. 688 hence] thence Dyce etc.

PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, OXFORD

BY JOHN JOHNSON, PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY

685

4

148

SEP 22 '66

W !