Book 7
' Much of the war is done: the conscript youth
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' Whose heart beats high, who burns to join the fray
' (Though men fight hard in terror of defeat),
' The shock of onset need no longer fear.
' Bravest is he who promptly meets the ill
' When fate commands it and the moment comes,
Yet brooks delay, in prudence; and shall we,
' Our happy state enjoying, risk it all?
' Trust to the sword the fortunes of the world?
' Not victory, but battle, ye demand.
' Do thou, O Fortune, of the Roman state
' Who mad'st Pompeius guardian, from his hands
' Take back the charge grown weightier, and thyself
' Commit its safety to the chance of war.
· Nor blame nor glory shall be mine to-day.
'Thy prayers unjustly, Caesar, have prevailed:
' We fight! What wickedness, what woes on men,
' Destruction on what realms this dawn shall bring!
' Crimson with Roman blood yon stream shall run.
' Would that (without the ruin of our cause)
' The first fell bolt hurled on this cursed day
' Might strike me lifeless! Victory to me
' Were not more joyful, for this battle brings
' A name of pity or a name of hate.
' The loser bears the burden of defeat;
' The victor wins, but conquest is a crime.'
Thus to the soldiers, burning for the fray,
He yields, forbidding, and throws down the reins.
So may a sailor give the winds control
Upon his barque, which, driven by the seas,
Bears him an idle burden. Now the camp
Hums with impatience, and the brave man's heart
With beats tumultuous throbs against his breast;
And all the host had standing in their looks
The paleness of the death that was to come.These two lines are taken from Ben Jonson's 'Catiline,' act v., scene 6.
On that day's fight 'twas manifest that Rome
And all the future destinies of man
Hung trembling; and by weightier dread possessed,
They knew not danger. Who would fear for self
Should ocean rise and whelm the mountain tops,
