Caesar and Anthony

Augustus Caesar, aging by the sea, Remembered, musingly, dead Anthony, And wondered as he thought upon his days Which had been better, laurel leaves or bays. “Bays for the victor, when his fight is over, But laurels” thought Augustus “for the lover. That brown Egyptian woman, the fierce queen Who with a serpent died—she came between Him and the world’s dominion, whispering ‘Does empire burn so, has thy crown the sting These lips have when they touch thee—thus and thus? Choose then!’ ‘I choose!’ replied Antonius.” “I wonder” thought Augustus as he lay Watching the menial clouds of conquered day Applaud with vehement reflection The cold triumphant ending of the sun. “The sun’s an emperor, and all the sky Burns to a flame for his nativity, And not less beautiful nor unattended By conquered flocks of cloud he passes splendid, Throwing his slaves this laminated gold. Master in death, but in his death how cold! But to have died astonished on a kiss Had heat to the end and Anthony had this.”