Juvenilia or, A collection of poems. Written between the ages of twelve and seventeen, by J. H. L. Hunt ... Fourth Edition |
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SPEECH OF CARACTACUS TO CLAUDIUS CÆSAR. |
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 | Juvenilia |  |
SPEECH OF CARACTACUS TO CLAUDIUS CÆSAR.
Æquam memento rebus in arduis
Servare mentem ------
Hor. Lib. ii. Od. 3.
Servare mentem ------
Hor. Lib. ii. Od. 3.
Mighty Cæsar, tho' to thee
Britain bows the bended knee;
Tho' her hardy warriors know
Victor is the valiant foe;—
Tho' her king with tort'ring pain
Captive drags the galling chain;
Rome itself shall never boast,
Britannia's glory all is lost!
Britain bows the bended knee;
Tho' her hardy warriors know
Victor is the valiant foe;—
Tho' her king with tort'ring pain
Captive drags the galling chain;
Rome itself shall never boast,
Britannia's glory all is lost!
107
Saw thou not, Ostorius bold,
Where in blood my chariot roll'd;
Saw thou not in ev'ry eye
Firm resolve and courage lie?
Saw thou not each British sword
Carve a passage for its lord,
Where the Roman eagle spread
Her purple pinions o'er thy head?
Where in blood my chariot roll'd;
Saw thou not in ev'ry eye
Firm resolve and courage lie?
Saw thou not each British sword
Carve a passage for its lord,
Where the Roman eagle spread
Her purple pinions o'er thy head?
When misfortune hovers nigh,
Let the coward wish to die;
And, like Cato, robb'd of rest,
Plunge the dagger in his breast!
But, tho' feeble, pale, and wan,
Still your captive is a man:
And for me, if life is rough,
To live and to be brave's enough!
Let the coward wish to die;
And, like Cato, robb'd of rest,
Plunge the dagger in his breast!
But, tho' feeble, pale, and wan,
Still your captive is a man:
And for me, if life is rough,
To live and to be brave's enough!
Tho' these hands no more may wield
Pond'rous spear, or massy shield;
Tho' this tongue may ne'er again
Bid the British troops be men;
Hope, with ever-lifted eye,
Hope, enchanting, still is nigh!
Yes; they shall again be free,
And triumph in their liberty!
Pond'rous spear, or massy shield;
Tho' this tongue may ne'er again
Bid the British troops be men;
Hope, with ever-lifted eye,
Hope, enchanting, still is nigh!
Yes; they shall again be free,
And triumph in their liberty!
| Juvenilia | |