STATE OF ROME AFTER CAESAR's DEATH

No scheme beyond the hero's fall arrang'd, The state of Rome was not improv'd, but chang'd; That bold atchievement the whole mind possess'd, Nor left one thought to methodize the rest: While some perhaps, who strain'd to look so far, Thought all beyond it little worth the care; And others, stung by envy, pride, or hate, Quench'd these bad passions in their conqueror's fate. To the same act, by different motives led, In one man's death alone were all agreed; That mountain once remov'd, the level plain, Where all might pass, would bless their sight again: Vain hope! the opening prospect but disclos'd, How still beyond it loftier Alps oppos'd. Nor all who to the work of slaughter press'd, Glow'd with the generous ardour they profess'd; Their worthless tale at last too plainly shews, They less were virtue's friends, than Caesar's foes; But all, exalted by their leader's name, Brav'd the same danger, and partook his fame; Yet truth, that weighs ere she confers applause, Not always blends the agents with the cause: Round the same banners rang'd, too oft she sees The people's guardians, and the people's lees; And heaven-born freedom's glittering flag unfurl'd, Wave o'er the chiefs and miscreants of the world. By wild distraction were Rome's councils rent, And anarchy succeeded government; As if, herself unwilling to be free, She felt no tyrant, yet no liberty. Effect appear'd the cause. Alas! the crime Was less in him, than the corrupted time; Nor was ambition to one breast confin'd, Where hundreds more were Caesars in their mind. Then what avail'd to pull one tyrant down, When liberty and virtue both were gone? When men like Cato, and firm Brutus, stood More wonder'd at, than lov'd, for being good; Where venal honours were not merit's meed, But gold or favour bade the claim succeed; Where once-priz'd honest poverty was shame, And publick spirit a derided name. Thus in the palsied frame how oft we see The form remain, but lost the energy! Reason abhors society's disgrace, That last of rules,—a lawless populace. Where each base upstart, busy, blind, and rude, Disdains the noble, and insults the good; Where two concurring wills are rarely found, But ignorance and discord harsh abound. The hapless state which mourns her vigour gone, And her best laws by her worst sons o'er-thrown, Will find at last she must submit to one; Some head must govern, some compulsion bind The jarring passions of perplex'd mankind; And states have seen, as states will ever see, The extreme of licence end in tyranny.