Sure from fome angel he the fecret knew, ODE ON I. BRUTUS. IS faid, that favourite, mankind, Was made the lord of all below; But yet the doubtful are concern'd to find, 'Tis only one man tells another so. And, for this great dominion here, Which over other beafts we claim, Reafon our best credential does appear, By which indeed we domineer, But how abfurdly, we may fee with shame. Reason, that folemn trifle! light as air, Or the least prejudice can weigh it down ; How weak, at beft, is Reason! yet the grave II. In all those wits, whose names have spread so wide, And ev❜n the force of time defy'd, Some failings yet may be defcry'd. Among the reft, with wonder be it told, That Brutus is admir'd for Cæfar's death; By which he yet furvives in Fame's immortal breath. In whom we should that deed the most deteft, As fnow defcending from fome lofty hill, And gild their cloquence with praise of him ; III. .. In vain 'tis urg'd by an illuftrious wit, (To whom in all befides I willingly fubmit) That Cæfar's life no pity could deferve From one who kill'd himself, rather than ferve. Had Brutus chose rather himself to flay, Than any mafter to obey, Happy for Rome had been that noble pride; The world had then remain'd in peace, and only Brutus dy'd. For he, whose foul difdains to own Subjection to a tyrant's frown, And his own life would rather end, Would fure much rather kill himself, than only hurt his friend. To his own fword in the Philippian field But in those times felf-killing was not rare, He might have chofen elfe to live, Then, for the good of Rome, he could once more IV. Our country challenges our utmost care, And in our thoughts deferves the tenderest share; Yet not betray them, though it be for her. A miftrefs or a friend to love, Above whate'er he does befides enjoy ; But may he, for their fakes, his fire or fons deftroy! For facred juftice, or for public good, Scorn'd be our wealth, our honour, and our blood: Ev'n low difgrace would be a glorious fate; V. Can we ftand by unmov'd, and fee Our mother robb'd and ravish'd? Can we be Excus'd, if in her cause we never ftir, Pleas'd with the strength and beauty of the ravisher? Or that its beauty and its grace were lefs. Such a fallacious ambush to escape, A valiant fon would be provok'd the more; A force we therefore must confess, but acted long before; A marriage fince did intervene, With all the folemn and the facred scene; Loud Loud was the Hymenean fong; The violated dame * walk'd smilingly along, And in the midst of the most facred dance, Who afterwards appear'd fo moderate and cool, VI. But, oh! that this were all which we can urge And that fair truth permitted us to purge Infpires us with unusual warmth her injur'd rites to fing. Affift, ye angels! whofe immortal bliss, Though more refin'd, chiefly confifts in this. The race of mutual love with equal zeal ye run, Who still betwixt them did so many virtues fhare, |