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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Lamentation.
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 | Medulla Poetarum Romanorum |  |
Lamentation.
See Grief.
Death, I confess, I 'scap'd, and broke my Bonds:—
And now to me, forlorn, no Hope is left
Of e'er beholding my sweet native Soil,
Or my dear Children, or my long'd for Sire:
Whose forfeit Lives, perhaps, for my Escape,
They will demand: and expiate this Offence
By their untimely Death.—
And now to me, forlorn, no Hope is left
Of e'er beholding my sweet native Soil,
Or my dear Children, or my long'd for Sire:
Whose forfeit Lives, perhaps, for my Escape,
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By their untimely Death.—
I, who so long had Pow'r, and Wealth, and State,
Bless'd in my Children, in my Husband Great;
Must now, in Poverty, an Exile mourn,
Ev'n from the Tombs of my dead Offspring torn:
Giv'n to Penelope, who proud of Spoil,
Allots me to the Loom's ungrateful Toil:
Points to her Dames, and cries, with scornful Mein,
See Hector's Mother, and great Priam's Queen!—
Bless'd in my Children, in my Husband Great;
Must now, in Poverty, an Exile mourn,
Ev'n from the Tombs of my dead Offspring torn:
Giv'n to Penelope, who proud of Spoil,
Allots me to the Loom's ungrateful Toil:
Points to her Dames, and cries, with scornful Mein,
See Hector's Mother, and great Priam's Queen!—
Shall Fortune still in one sad Tenor run,
And still increase the Woes so soon begun?
Enur'd to Sorrows from my tender Years,
My Parent's Ashes drank my early Tears:
My Brother next, neglecting Wealth and Fame,
Ignobly burn'd in a destructive Flame.
An Infant Daughter late my Griefs increas'd,
And all a Mother's Cares distract my Breast.—
And still increase the Woes so soon begun?
Enur'd to Sorrows from my tender Years,
My Parent's Ashes drank my early Tears:
My Brother next, neglecting Wealth and Fame,
Ignobly burn'd in a destructive Flame.
An Infant Daughter late my Griefs increas'd,
And all a Mother's Cares distract my Breast.—
| Medulla Poetarum Romanorum | |