Part I

When cruel Death his paly ensign spreadOver that face, which oft in triumph ledMy subject thoughts; and beauty's sovereign light,Retiring, left the world immersed in night;The Phantom, with a frown that chill'd the heart,Seem'd with his gloomy pageant to depart,Exulting in his formidable arms,And proud of conquest o'er seraphic charms.When, turning round, I saw the Power advanceThat breaks the gloomy grave's eternal trance,And bids the disembodied spirit claimThe glorious guerdon of immortal Fame.Like Phosphor, in the sullen rear of night,Before the golden wheels of orient lightHe came. But who the tendant pomp can tell,What mighty master of the corded shellCan sing how heaven above accordant smiled,And what bright pageantry the prospect fill'd.I look'd, but all in vain: the potent rayFlash'd on my sight intolerable dayAt first; but to the splendour soon inured,My eyes perused the pomp with sight assured.True dignity in every face was seen,As on they march'd with more than mortal mien;And some I saw whom Love had link'd before,Ennobled now by Virtue's lofty lore.Caesar and Scipio on the dexter handOf the bright goddess led the laurell'd band.One, like a planet by the lord of day,Seem'd o'er-illumined by her splendid ray,By brightness hid; for he, to virtue true,His mind from Love's soft bondage nobly drew.The other, half a slave to female charms,Parted his homage to the god of armsAnd Love's seductive power: but, close and deep,Like files that climb'd the Capitolian steepIn years of yore, along the sacred wayA martial squadron came in long array.In ranges as they moved distinct and bright,On every burganet that met the light,Some name of long renown, distinctly read,O'er each majestic brow a glory shed.Still on the noble pair my eyes I bent,And watch'd their progress up the steep ascent.The second Scipio next in line was seen,And he that seem'd the lure of Egypt's queen;With many a mighty chief I there beheld,Whose valorous hand the battle's storm repell'd.Two fathers of the great Cornelian name,With their three noble sons who shared their fame,One singly march'd before, and, hand in hand,His two heroic partners trod the strand.The last was first in fame; but brighter beamsHis follower flung around in solar streams.Metaurus' champion, whom the moon beheld,When his resistless spears the current swell'dWith Libya's hated gore, in arms renown'dWas he, nor less with Wisdom's olive crown'd.Quick was his thought and ready was his hand,His power accomplish'd what his reason plann'd;He seem'd, with eagle eye and eagle wing,Sudden on his predestined game to spring.But he that follow'd next with step sedateDrew round his foe the viewless snare of fate;While, with consummate art, he kept at bayThe raging foe, and conquer'd by delay.Another Fabius join'd the stoic pair,The Pauli and Marcelli famed in war;With them the victor in the friendly strife,Whose public virtue quench'd his love of life.With either Brutus ancient Curius came;Fabricius, too, I spied, a nobler name(With his plain russet gown and simple board)Than either Lydian with her golden hoard.Then came the great dictator from the plough;And old Serranus show'd his laurell'd brow.Marching with equal step. Camillus near,Who, fresh and vigorous in the bright careerOf honour, sped, and never slack'd his pace,Till Death o'ertook him in the noble race,And placed him in a sphere of fame so high,That other patriots fill'd a lower sky.Even those ungrateful lands that seal'd his doomRecall'd the hanish'd man to rescue Rome.Torquains nigh, a sterner spectre stood,His fasces all besmear'd with filial blood:He childless to the shades resolved to go,Rather than Rome a moment should foregoThat dreadful discipline, whose rigid loreHad spread their triumphs round from shore to shore.Then the two Decii came, by Heaven inspired,Divinely bold, as when the foe retiredBefore their Heaven-directed march, amazed,When on the self-devoted men they gazed,Till they provoked their fate. And Curtius nigh,As when to heaven he cast his upward eye,And all on fire with glory's opening charms,Plunged to the Shades below with clanging arms,Laevinus, Mummius, with Flaminius show'd,Like meaner lights along the heavenly road;And he who conquer'd Greece from sea to sea,Then mildly bade th' afflicted race be free.Next came the dauntless envoy, with his wand,Whose more than magic circle on the sandThe frenzy of the Syrian king confined:O'er-awed he stood, and at his fate repined.Great Manlius, too, who drove the hostile throngProne from the steep on which his members hung,(A sad reverse) the hungry vultures' food,When Roman justice claim'd his forfeit blood.Then Cocles came, who took his dreadful standWhere the wide arch the foaming torrent spann'd,Stemming the tide of war with matchless might,And turn'd the heady current of the fight.And he that, stung with fierce vindictive ire,Consumed his erring hand with hostile fire.Duillius next and Catulus were seen,Whose daring navies plough'd the billowy greenThat laves Pelorus and the Sardian shore,And dyed the rolling waves with Punic gore.Great Appius next advanced in sterner mood,Who with patrician loftiness withstoodThe clamours of the crowd. But, close behind,Of gentler manners and more equal mind,Came one, perhaps the first in martial might,Yet his dim glory cast a waning light;But neither Bacchus, nor Alcmena's sonSuch trophies yet by east or west have won;Nor he that in the arms of conquest died,As he, when Rome's stern foes his valour triedYet he survived his fame. But luckier farWas one that follow'd next, whose golden starTo better fortune led, and mark'd his nameAmong the first in deeds of martial fame:But cruel was his rage, and dipp'd in goreBy civil slaughter was the wreath he wore.A less-ensanguined laurel graced the headOf him that next advanced with lofty tread,In martial conduct and in active mightOf equal honour in the fields of fight.Then great Volumnius, who expell'd the pestWhose spreading ills the Romans long distress'd.Rutilius Cassus, Philo next in sightAppear'd, like twinkling stars that gild the night.Three men I saw advancing up the vale,Mangled with ghastly wounds through plate and mail;Dentatus, long in standing fight renown'd,Sergius and Scaeva oft with conquest crown'd;The triple terror of the hostile train,On whom the storm of battle broke in vain.Another Sergius near with deep disgraceMarr'd the long glories of his ancient race,Marius, then, the Cimbrians who repell'dFrom fearful Rome, and Lybia's tyrant quell'd.And Fulvius, who Campania's traitors slew,And paid ingratitude with vengeance due.Another nobler Fulvius next appear'd;And there the Father of the Gracchi rear'dA solitary crest. The following formWas he that often raised the factious storm--Bold Catulus, and he whom fortune's rayIllumined still with beams of cloudless day;Yet fail'd to chase the darkness of the mind,That brooded still on loftier hopes behind.From him a nobler line in two degreesReduced Numidia to reluctant peace.Crete, Spain, and Macedonia's conquer'd lordAdorn'd their triumphs and their treasures stored.Vespasian, with his son, I next survey'd,An angel soul in angel form array'd;Nor less his brother seem'd in outward grace,But hell within belied a beauteous face.Then Nerva, who retrieved the falling throne,And Trajan, by his conquering eagles known.Adrian, and Antonine the just and good,He, with his son, the golden age renew'd;And ere they ruled the world, themselves subdued.Then, as I turn'd my roving eyes around,Quirinus I beheld with laurel crown'd,And five succeeding kings. The sixth was lost,By vice degraded from his regal post;A sentence just, whatever pride may claim,For virtue only finds eternal Fame.