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Great Jove, attend, and thou my native soil,
Safe in my triumphs, glutted in my spoil;
Witness with what reluctance I oppose
My arms to thine, secure of other foes.
What passive breast can bear disgrace like mine?
Traitor!--For this I conquered on the Rhine,
Endured their ten years' drudgery in Gaul,
Adjourned their fate, and saved the Capitol.
I grew by every guilty triumph less;
The crowd, when drunk with joy, their souls express,
Impatient of the war, yet fear success.
Brave actions dazzle with too bright a ray,
Like birds obscene they chatter at the day;
Giddy with rule, and valiant in debate,
They throw the die of war, to save the state;
And gods! to gild ingratitude with fame,
Assume the patriot's, we the rebel's name.
Farewell, my friends, your general forlorn,
To your bare pity, and the public scorn,
Must lay that honour and his laurel down,
To serve the vain caprices of the gown;
Exposed to all indignities, the brave
Deserve of those they gloried but to save,
To rods and axes!--No, the slaves can't dare
Play with my grief, and tempt my last despair.
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