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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Rage.
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 | Medulla Poetarum Romanorum |  |
Rage.
See Anger.
Arms, Arms, my Friends: Tho' vanquish'd, This last Day
Calls us to Arms: Give me the Greeks again:
Off:—let me go:—I'll see the Eight renew'd:
This Day We will not all die unreveng'd.—
Calls us to Arms: Give me the Greeks again:
Off:—let me go:—I'll see the Eight renew'd:
This Day We will not all die unreveng'd.—
Soon as the
Queen perceiv'd the dawning Day,
And from a Tower beheld the Navy move
With even Sails, the empty Ports, and Shores
Abandon'd: with repeated Blows she beats
Her beauteous Breast, and rends her yellow Hair:
Shall he then go? The Fugitive? O Jove!
She cry'd, and make my Kingdoms thus his Sport?
Will they not rush to Arms? from all the Town
Pursue? While Others from the Docks swift plunge
My Ships into the Sea? Go, fly: bring Fire:
Quick, hoise your Sails, and strongly ply your Oars.
What was't I said? where am I? what Distraction
Has turn'd my Brain?—Unhappy Dido! now
Thy cruel Fate stabs home.—
And from a Tower beheld the Navy move
With even Sails, the empty Ports, and Shores
Abandon'd: with repeated Blows she beats
Her beauteous Breast, and rends her yellow Hair:
Shall he then go? The Fugitive? O Jove!
She cry'd, and make my Kingdoms thus his Sport?
Will they not rush to Arms? from all the Town
Pursue? While Others from the Docks swift plunge
My Ships into the Sea? Go, fly: bring Fire:
Quick, hoise your Sails, and strongly ply your Oars.
What was't I said? where am I? what Distraction
Has turn'd my Brain?—Unhappy Dido! now
Thy cruel Fate stabs home.—
Thus wild He raves: and from his smoking Mouth
Burst Sparks of Fire, and Flashes from his Eyes.
So hideous roars the Bull with previous Rage,
And practices the Fight: against an Oak
Whetting his Horns, he pushes empty Air,
And spurns the Sand, preluding to the War.—
Burst Sparks of Fire, and Flashes from his Eyes.
So hideous roars the Bull with previous Rage,
And practices the Fight: against an Oak
Whetting his Horns, he pushes empty Air,
And spurns the Sand, preluding to the War.—
When Turnus saw the harrass'd Latins faint
With unsuccessful War: his Promise claim'd:
Himself mark'd out, and by all Eyes observ'd:
Conscious of inborn Worth he burns with Rage
Implacable, and rouses all his Fire.
The lordly Lion thus, on Lybia's Plains,
Gor'd by the Hunter's Spear within his Breast
Infix'd, at length springs furious to the Fight,
And shakes with dreadful Pride his shaggy Mane:
Intrepid snaps the sticking Dart, and roars,
And foams with bloody Mouth. No less, incens'd;
Fierce Turnus storms:—
With unsuccessful War: his Promise claim'd:
Himself mark'd out, and by all Eyes observ'd:
Conscious of inborn Worth he burns with Rage
291
The lordly Lion thus, on Lybia's Plains,
Gor'd by the Hunter's Spear within his Breast
Infix'd, at length springs furious to the Fight,
And shakes with dreadful Pride his shaggy Mane:
Intrepid snaps the sticking Dart, and roars,
And foams with bloody Mouth. No less, incens'd;
Fierce Turnus storms:—
| Medulla Poetarum Romanorum | |