University of Virginia Library

Olympias's Lamentation over Dead Alexander.

Vain Youth! to what amounts now all thy Toil,
Or what Enjoyment hast thou of thy Spoil?

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35

That, which with the Expence of sweat and blood
Thou dearly bought'st, is shar'd by th' wrangling Crowd.
Each on thy Spacious Empire sets his Eye,
And Thou neglected dost unburied ly.
Alive the trembling World to Thee did pray,
To Thee, now dead, none doth Obedience pay.
Thy former Deeds forgotten, by thy side
Thy fear, thy Reverence, and Authority di'd.
Nor could'st Thou, out of all thy Conquests, save
So much ground, as would serve Thee for a Grave.
The World but Yesterday thou thought'st too small,
And scornd'st the Narrow compass of this Ball:
Thy Towring thoughts and thy Designs laid low,
Seven foot of ground thy Burial place will grow;
But even that common Right thou wantest now.
Thy wild Ambition up to Heaven would soar,
Made servile Priests thy Altars to adore:
Alive thou we'rt inroll'd with Gods above,
But Death Thee truly did a Mortal prove:
Thy Death unravell'd all, thy Life had Wove.
Better, hot Boy, thou hadst in Greece remain'd,
And o're thy Native Land in quiet reign'd:
Than thus the peace o'th' Injur'd World to break,
And unjust Spoils from faultless Nations take:
And for thy Glorious Robberies, but to claim
The whole World's Curses and a Posthume Fame.