Medulla Poetarum Romanorum Or, the Most Beautiful and Instructive Passages of the Roman Poets. Being a Collection, (Disposed under proper Heads,) Of such Descriptions, Allusions, Comparisons, Characters, and Sentiments, as may best serve to shew the Religion, Learning, Politicks, Arts, Customs, Opinions, Manners, and Circumstances of the Antients. With Translations of the same in English Verse. By Mr. Henry Baker |
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Tyrant.
See King.
—The Nation flourish'd long,
In Pride of Wealth, and warlike People strong.
Till curs'd Mezentius, in a fatal Hour,
Assum'd the Crown with arbitrary Pow'r.
What Words can paint those execrable Times,
The Subject's Suff'rings, and the Tyrant's Crimes.!
That Blood, those Murders, O, ye Gods, replace
On his own Head, and on his impious Race!
The Living and the Dead, at his Command,
Were coupled, Face to Face, and Hand to Hand:
Till choak'd with Stench, in loath'd Embraces ty'd,
The ling'ring Wretches pin'd away, and dy'd.
Thus plung'd in Ills, and meditating more,
The People's Patience tir'd, no longer bore
The raging Monster: But with Arms beset
His House, and Vengeance, and Destruction threat.
They fire his Palace: While the Flame ascends,
They force his Guards: and execute his Friends.
He cleaves the Crowd: and favour'd by the Night,
To Turnus' friendly Court directs his Flight.—
In Pride of Wealth, and warlike People strong.
Till curs'd Mezentius, in a fatal Hour,
Assum'd the Crown with arbitrary Pow'r.
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The Subject's Suff'rings, and the Tyrant's Crimes.!
That Blood, those Murders, O, ye Gods, replace
On his own Head, and on his impious Race!
The Living and the Dead, at his Command,
Were coupled, Face to Face, and Hand to Hand:
Till choak'd with Stench, in loath'd Embraces ty'd,
The ling'ring Wretches pin'd away, and dy'd.
Thus plung'd in Ills, and meditating more,
The People's Patience tir'd, no longer bore
The raging Monster: But with Arms beset
His House, and Vengeance, and Destruction threat.
They fire his Palace: While the Flame ascends,
They force his Guards: and execute his Friends.
He cleaves the Crowd: and favour'd by the Night,
To Turnus' friendly Court directs his Flight.—
A Sacrifice which pleases Jove much more
Than all the Victims at his Altar slain,
Is an unjust, oppressive Tyrant-King.—
Than all the Victims at his Altar slain,
Is an unjust, oppressive Tyrant-King.—
Great Father of the Gods, when for our Crimes,
Thou send'st some heavy Judgment on the Times:
Some Tyrant-King, the Terror of his Age,
The Type, and true Vicegerent of thy Rage:
Thus punish him:—Set Virtue in his Sight,
With all her Charms adorn'd, with all her Graces bright:
But set her distant, make him pale to see
His Gains out-weigh'd by lost Felicity.
Sicilian Tortures, and the brazen Bull
Are Emblems, rather than express the full
Of what he feels: Yet what he fears is more.—
Thou send'st some heavy Judgment on the Times:
Some Tyrant-King, the Terror of his Age,
The Type, and true Vicegerent of thy Rage:
Thus punish him:—Set Virtue in his Sight,
With all her Charms adorn'd, with all her Graces bright:
But set her distant, make him pale to see
His Gains out-weigh'd by lost Felicity.
Sicilian Tortures, and the brazen Bull
Are Emblems, rather than express the full
Of what he feels: Yet what he fears is more.—
| Medulla Poetarum Romanorum | |