University of Virginia Library

Part of Lucan, Book IX. English'd.

To learn their destinies of Ammon, wait
His Eastern Pilgrims at the Temple gate;
But leave the passage free for Cato, press'd
By his own Train to enter with the rest;
Consult a God renown'd thro' Libya's clime,
And try Tradition vouch'd by length of time:
But Labienus urg'd th' inquiry most;
Our wand'ring way in sandy Desarts lost,
And chance, he cry'd (if only chance it be)
Have led us to a present Deity:
With glad devotion seize the proffer'd hour,
And beg the counsel of Almighty pow'r:
Behold our Guide, ev'n him who shakes the sky,
Thro' sands, and wilds, and dark Futurity:
For heav'n would chuse to make its Secrets known
To holy Cato, sure; to him, or none.
Squar'd by the strict celestial rule of Right,
Your Life has ever kept the God in sight;
But, would you hold a conference with Jove?
'Tis granted now. replenish from above
Your mind with sacred truths; and learn the doom
Of impious Cæsar, and unhappy Rome:
Inquire if Freedom shall once more engage
Heav'n's gracious aid, or fall by civil rage.
You, who have lov'd a Virtue so severe,
Ask what she is, and fix true Honour here.
Inspir'd by Jove, who fill'd his secret mind,
The Hero answer'd like the God enshrin'd.
For what, my Friend, must Ammon be explor'd?
Can Cato question, while he wields a Sword,
To perish rather free, than own a Lord?
If life be Nothing, since in death it ends?
And glory more than years the span extends?
If e'er the Just by violence are hurt?
Or Fortune's malice be but Virtue's sport?
If Merit in the brave endeavour lies,
Untaught by blind events to fall or rise?
All this we know; and truths, so rooted here,
Require no Jupiter to make them clear.
Of God's eternal mind the human soul
A portion, links us to th' Almighty whole.
What should we then inquire? or why dispute?
His will controuls us, tho' his voice be mute.
He chose the hour of birth at once to show
Whatever Mortals are indulg'd to know;
And nature, shining with congenial light,
Shall never cease to guide her followers right.
Nor are his truths to barren sands confin'd,
And whisper'd to a part of human kind.
Has he a seat? 'tis earth, and sea, and air,
And heav'n, and virtue: with prepost'rous care
We seek the God retir'd, when all may find him there.
Believe me, Friend, 'tis omnipresent Jove
Whate'er you see, and wheresoe'er you move.
Let dreaming Slaves repair to Shrines, while I
Consult that Oracle, Mortality.
Death, sure to come, can never come amiss:
This Cato says; and Jove need say but this.
He spoke; and turning short, pursued his road,
And left the senseless Croud to sound the God.