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ODE XXXVII.

Now let the Bowl with Wine and Mirth be crown'd,
Let antick Measures beat the Ground:
In costly Robes let every Shrine be drest,
And Luxury and Pomp adorn the plenteous Feast.
'Twas Criminal but lately to produce
The hoarded Cask and potent Juice,
When Egypt's Queen, with frantick Pride o'ercome,
Menac'd the lofty Walls and warlike Pow'rs of Rome.
Compass'd with Eunuchs, an inglorious Guard,
Above her Sex her Hopes she reer'd:
And drunk with Fortune's Smiles rush'd on,
At once to make the Empire of the World her own.
But Cæsar taught her Soul to fear at last,
When the mad Amazon he chac'd,
As in her Bark from Italy she fled,
And saw her blazing Fleet with hostile Flames bespread.
So the swift Pidgeon skims the liquid Air,
Chac'd by the Hawk; just so the Hare
Through snowy Fields the Thracian Hunter flies,
As Cæsar nimbly row'd to win the Royal Prize.

34

She, more than Woman, haughtily disdains
To wear a Roman Victor's Chains;
She scorn'd the Sword, and dar'd her Fate to meet;
Nor sought in Coasts remote, a mean, yet safe Retreat.
With Looks serene her Palace she survey'd,
Prostrate in Dust, in Ruins lay'd:
Then snatch'd the hungry Aspects to her Breast,
Whilst on her vital Blood the bloated Monsters feast.
Daring she dy'd, but knew not how to fear,
Nor could with tame Submission bear
Beneath the Conqu'ror's proud Wheels to bow,
Or, like an abject Slave, grace the Triumphal Show