Pompey. a. U. C. 700

But all the grandeur palmy Rome display'd, Rich Crassus, Pompey, and great Caesar sway'd: The first, by wealth distinguish'd from the crowd; The next, of pass'd exploits and triumphs proud; A name by Rome exalted to the skies, And spangled thick with fortune's flatteries. The people's idol long, he lov'd to hear His own applause, in his own theatre; And, not aware that life's best scenes were o'er, He saw what he had been, and saw no more. No dignities his thirst of power could sate, But, once possess'd, the use was moderate. To each atchievement of assur'd renown The partial publick push'd their favourite on: But sometimes, when he quell'd a foe to Rome, He rais'd a jealous enemy at home. Thus to the rout of Spartacus he came, Crassus deserv'd, and he enjoy'd the fame; And harrass'd Mithridates, feeble grown, By Sylla and Lucullus half o'erthrown, Run down to life's last dregs,—could just afford Another facile garland to his sword. O'er the huge height of Taurus next he pass'd, And proudly lay'd defenceless nations waste: Media, and Syria, to his mercy yield, And Parthia's king, Pharnaces, left the field; Arabia saw his long-extended force Obliquely towards fam'd Jordan wind their course; Stopp'd at Jerusalem, the siege he form'd, And in three months the sacred Temple storm'd. Riches unknown before, within he found, Yet trod with reverent feet on hallow'd ground. Then first were those mysterious symbols shewn, To sacerdotal view reveal'd alone. Stupendous grandeur fill'd his wond'ring eye, Columns, and palms, and gold's pure majesty; Gales, such as breathe from Sharon's spicy thorn, Through lofty domes from fragrant woods were borne. Amaz'd, no idol image could he find, Yet the vast void dilates the heathen's mind: From his chaf'd brow the nodding helm he steals, His knee involuntary reverence feels; And while with awe the sanctuary's explor'd, Nature's true Deity was half ador'd. The God pervading thus his humbled breast, Unspoil'd he bade the holy treasure rest. Success and continence increas'd his fame, And Jews with heathens join'd to extol his name. At length, with captive monarchs in his train, He turn'd his stately march towards Rome again. To praise accustom'd from his beardless youth, The glare of flattery seem'd the ray of truth: In every gracious action form'd to excel, And from weak foes conceiv'd invincible; While mov'd by others, still his pride believ'd He gave the impulse which himself receiv'd; And with the shew of power too vainly pleas'd, His wiser rivals on the substance seiz'd. From publick care by publick praise reliev'd, His age look'd back at what his youth atchiev'd; A partial memory of himself he kept, And in the shade of his own laurels slept; Unwilling to be rous'd again to strife, Or quit the enjoyment for the toils of life. Too soon elated, and too soon depress'd, No standard settled in his own weak breast, He liv'd to learn, fresh fame requir'd fresh deeds; For glory which advances not, recedes. Great was his name in arms, but envious fate Oppos'd him to a rival still more great, More wise, more young, more bold, and fortunate.