FORTY YEARS SINCE.
101
By death, this glory I assume,
Nor could I bear the fearful doom,
To outlive the liberties of Rome.
Nor could I bear the fearful doom,
To outlive the liberties of Rome.
By me, her changeful fate was tried,
Her honour was my dearest pride,
I for it liv'd, and with it died.
Her honour was my dearest pride,
I for it liv'd, and with it died.
Nor shall my vengeance he withstood,
Nor unattended with a flood
Of Roman and Egyptian blood;
Nor unattended with a flood
Of Roman and Egyptian blood;
Cæsar himself it shall pursue,
His days shall troubled be, and few,
And he shall fall by treason too.
His days shall troubled be, and few,
And he shall fall by treason too.
He, by seventy divine,
Shall swell the offerings at my shrine,
As I was his, he shall be mine.
Shall swell the offerings at my shrine,
As I was his, he shall be mine.
Regret thy woes, my Love, no more,
For Fate shall waft thee soon ashore,
And to thy Pompey, thee restore;
For Fate shall waft thee soon ashore,
And to thy Pompey, thee restore;
Where, past the fears of sad removes,
We'll entertain our deathless loves,
In beauteous and immortal groves:
We'll entertain our deathless loves,
In beauteous and immortal groves:
There, none a tyrant's crown shall wear,
No Cæsar be dictator there,
Nor shall Cornelia shed a tear.
No Cæsar be dictator there,
Nor shall Cornelia shed a tear.
Perhaps some young mind imperceptibly imbibed a love for the lore of Rome, from the explanations often connected with these quaint stanzas, whose tune, by her manner of execution, possessed exquisite harmony. Inquiries, from the more intelligent, would invariably follow, about Rome and Cæsar, and "Cynthia's borrow'd beams," which the Lady answered in such a manner as to excite
