Cæsar's Dream, before his Invasion of Britain

W rough Helvetia's hardy sons obey, And vanquish'd Belgia bows to Cæsar's sway; When, scarce-beheld, embattled nations fall, The fierce Sicambrian, and the faithless Gaul; Tir'd Freedom leads her savage sons no more, But flies, subdued, to Albion's utmost shore.

'Twas then, while stillness grasp'd the sleeping air, And dewy slumbers seal'd the eye of care; Divine Ambition to her votary came: Her left hand waving, bore the trump of fame; Her right a regal sceptre seem'd to hold, With gems far-blazing from the burnish'd gold. And thus, "My Son," the Queen of Glory said; "Immortal Cæsar, raise thy languid head. "Shall Night's dull chains the man of counsels bind? "Or Morpheus rule the monarch of mankind? "See worlds unvanquish'd yet await thy sword! "Barbaric lands, that scorn a Latian lord! "See yon proud isle, whose mountains meet the sky, "Thy foes encourage, and thy power defy! "What, tho' by Nature's firmest bars secur'd, "By seas encircled, and with rocks immur'd, "Shall Cæsar shrink the greatest toils to brave, "Scale the high rock, or beat the maddening wave?"

She spoke—her words the warrior's breast inflame With rage indignant, and with conscious shame; Already beat, the swelling floods give way, And the fell genii of the rocks obey. Already fhouts of triumph rend the skies, And the thin rear of barbarous nations flies.

Quick round their chief his active legions ftand, Dwell on his eye, and wait the waving hand. The Hero rofe, majeftically flow, And look'd attention to the crowds below.

'ROMANS and Friends! is there who feeks for reft, 'By labours vanquifh'd, and with wounds oppreft? 'That refpite CÆSAR fhall with pleafure yield, 'Due to the toils of many a well-fought field. 'Is there, who fhrinks at thought of dangers paft, 'The ragged mountain, or the pathlefs wafte- 'While favage hofts, or favage floods oppofe, 'Or fhivering fancy pines in Alpine fnows? 'Let him retire to Latium's peaceful fhore; 'He once has toil'd, and CÆSAR afks no more. 'Is there a ROMAN, whofe unfhaken breaft 'No pains have conquer'd, and no fears depreft? 'Who, doom'd thro 'Death's dread minifters to go, 'Dares to cha÷F'•e the infults of a foe; 'Let him, his Country's glory and her stay, 'With reverence hear her,and with pride obey. 'A form divine, in heavenly fplendor bright, 'Whose look threw radiance round the pall of night, 'With calm severity approach'd and faid, "Wake thy dull ear, and lift thy languid head. "What! fhall a Roman fink in soft repofe, "And tamely fee the Britons aid his foes? "See them fecure the rebel Gaul fupply; "Spurn his vain eagles and his power defy? "Go! burst their barriers, obstinately brave; "Scale the wild rock, and beat the maddening wave."

Here paus'd the Chief, but waited no reply, The voice assenting spoke from every eye; Nor, as the kindness that reproach'd with fear, Were dangers dreadful, or were toils severe.