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Many a yeare these furious broiles let last,
Why should we wish the gods should ever end them ? War onely giues vs peace, ó Rome continue
The course of mischiefe, and stretch out the date
Of slaughter; onely ciuill broiles make peace.
The quiuering Romans, but worse things affright them. As Manus full of wine on Pindus raues,
So runnes a Matron through th'amazed streetes,
Pean whither am I halde? where shall I fall ?
Thus borne aloft I see Pangeus hill,
With hoarie toppe, and vnder Hemus mount
Philippi plaines; Phoebus what radge is this?
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 :
This headlesse trunke that lies on Nylus sande
A fury leades the Emathian bandes; from thence
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