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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Slaughter.
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 | Medulla Poetarum Romanorum |  |
Slaughter.
See Battle. Rout. Sea-Fight. Siege.
Now unrelenting Mars, on either Side,
Equall'd the Slaughter, and the mutual Deaths:
The Victors and the Vanquish'd kill, and rush
With equal Force: nor These, nor Those retreat.—
Equall'd the Slaughter, and the mutual Deaths:
The Victors and the Vanquish'd kill, and rush
With equal Force: nor These, nor Those retreat.—
—And now still more
And more the Horror rises in the Field:
—To Heav'n ascends
A dismal Noise confus'd of warrior Youth,
Groaning in Death, and gasping on the Ground.—
And more the Horror rises in the Field:
—To Heav'n ascends
A dismal Noise confus'd of warrior Youth,
Groaning in Death, and gasping on the Ground.—
Soon as the Lybian Horse their Onset make,
With thund'ring Hoofs the sandy Soil they shake:
Thick o'er the Plain the wavy Clouds arise,
As when thro' Thrace, Bistonian Boreas flies,
Involves the Day in Dust, and darkens all the Skies.
And now the Foot encompass'd all around,
Are massacred, and trodden to the Ground:
None in Resistance vainly prove their Might,
But Death is all the Business of the Fight.
So thick the Darts and Javelins descend,
That had they wounded not,—
Their very Weight would make the Romans bend.
On ev'ry Side the shrinking Front grows less,
And to the Center madly all they press:
Fear, Uproar, and Dismay, increase the Cry,
Crushing, and crush'd, an armed Crowd they die:
Ev'n thronging on their Fellows Swords they run,
And the Foes Business by themselves is done.—
With thund'ring Hoofs the sandy Soil they shake:
Thick o'er the Plain the wavy Clouds arise,
As when thro' Thrace, Bistonian Boreas flies,
Involves the Day in Dust, and darkens all the Skies.
And now the Foot encompass'd all around,
Are massacred, and trodden to the Ground:
None in Resistance vainly prove their Might,
But Death is all the Business of the Fight.
So thick the Darts and Javelins descend,
That had they wounded not,—
Their very Weight would make the Romans bend.
On ev'ry Side the shrinking Front grows less,
And to the Center madly all they press:
373
Crushing, and crush'd, an armed Crowd they die:
Ev'n thronging on their Fellows Swords they run,
And the Foes Business by themselves is done.—
As when Bellona drives the World to War,
Or Mars comes thundring in his Thracian Car:
Rage horrible darts from his Gorgon Shield,
And gloomy Terror broods upon the Field.
Hate, fell and fierce, the dreadful Gods impart,
And urge to Slaughter ev'ry Soldier's Heart:
The Many shout, Arms clash, the Wounded cry,
And one promiscuous Peal groans upwards to the Sky.—
Or Mars comes thundring in his Thracian Car:
Rage horrible darts from his Gorgon Shield,
And gloomy Terror broods upon the Field.
Hate, fell and fierce, the dreadful Gods impart,
And urge to Slaughter ev'ry Soldier's Heart:
The Many shout, Arms clash, the Wounded cry,
And one promiscuous Peal groans upwards to the Sky.—
| Medulla Poetarum Romanorum | |