the bulwarks of Rome, now, I hate them. My

Gifts I repent! The same God who built up their dominion

Shall bring down destruction upon it. In burning their manhood

My heart shall delight and its blood-lust shall slake with their
slaughter.

Now Philippi's field I can see strewn with dead of two battles

And Thessaly's funeral pyres and Iberia mourning.

Already the clangor of arms thrills my ears, and rings loudly:

Thou, Lybian Nile, I can see now thy barriers groaning

And Actium's gulf and Apollo's darts quailing the warriors!

Then, open thy thirsty dominions and summon fresh spirits;

For scarce will the ferryman's strength be sufficient to carry

The souls of the dead in his skiff: 'tis a fleet that is needed!

Thou, Pallid Tisiphone, slake with wide ruin, thy thirsting

And tear ghastly wounds: mangled earth sinks to hell and the
spirits.'"

CHAPTER THE ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY-SECOND.

"But scarce had she finished, when trembled the clouds; and a
gleaming

Bright flash of Jove's lightning transfixed them with flame and was
gone.

The Lord of the Shades blanched with fear, at this bolt of his
brother's,

Sank back, and drew closely together the gorge in Earth's bosom.

By auspices straightway the slaughter of men and the evils

Impending are shown by the gods. Here, the Titan unsightly

Blood red, veils his face with a twilight; on strife fratricidal

Already he gazed, thou hadst thought! There, silvery Cynthia

Obscuring her face at the full, denied light to the outrage.

The mountain crests riven by rock-slides roll thundering downward

And wandering rivers, to rivulets shrunk, writhed no longer

Familiar marges between. With the clangor of armor

The heavens resound; from the stars wafts the thrill of a trumpet

Sounding the call to arms. AEtna, now roused to eruption

Unwonted, darts flashes of flame to the clouds. Flitting phantoms

Appear midst the tombs and unburied bones, gibbering menace

A comet, strange stars in its diadem, leads a procession

And reddens the skies with its fire. Showers of blood fall from
heaven

These portents the Deity shortly fulfilled! For now Caesar

Forsook vacillation and, spurred by the love of revenge, sheathed

The Gallic swor