University of Virginia Library

A Description of the Field of Battel, after Cæsar was Conqueror at Pharsalia.

From the VIIth Book of Lucan.

Then dire Pharsalia's Plain all breathing Blood
Call'd forth the Wolves and Tygers from the Wood,
And gorg'd the Lyons with her horrid Food.
Each left his common Prey, his Fellow-Beast,
To riot on a more luxurious Feast;
The Bears forsook their Caves for this Repast,
And Dogs obscene ran howling o'er the Wast;

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All Animals that scent the Tainted Air,
Of Smell sagacious, came exulting there,
The Birds that wont at Battels to appear,
Move with the Camp, and hover in the Rear,
Came numberless: The Kinds that us'd of old
To change for milder Nile the Thracian Cold,
Forgot the Season in the Prey's Delight,
And wing'd their Western Way with later Flight.
Never such Flocks of Vultures heretofore
Obscur'd the Sky, and feather'd all Heav'n o'er,
Nor such uncommon Weight the loaded Æther bore.
Each desolated Wood sent forth her Kind,
The Wood now lab'ring only with the Wind;
All Places round the mighty Numbers fill'd,
And Roman Blood from ev'ry Tree distill'd.
Oft on the impious Standards which they bore
Trickled in frequent Drops the Putrid Gore;
Oft as the Vulture, weary'd out with Toil,
Her Talons weaken'd, and o'er-charg'd with Spoil,

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Shook her wet Pinions in the Airy Space,
The scatter'd Blood his Triumph to disgrace,
Fell from on high, and stain'd the Victor's Face.
Nor yet could all the Number of the Slain,
This Sepulchre, this living Grave obtain,
And, by the Beasts, converted into Food,
Or harden into Bone, or flow in Blood;
The Beasts themselves their inner Bowels spare,
Nor think the vital Marrow worth their Care;
Nicely the Limbs they Taste, reject, and chuse,
And more than half the Roman Host refuse.
Whatever Coarses in the Field they find,
Touch'd by the Sun, or Tainted by the Wind,
They careless pass, and leave disdainfully behind.