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Living up to nature's rules,

Not deprav'd by knaves and fools, Happily we all might live, and harmless as our sheep; Then at length as calmly die, as infants fall asleep,

Second Song after the second Act. .

The Genius of Rome.
O, to prevent this awful empire's doom,
L

From bright unknown abodes of bliss I come,
The mighty genius of majestick Rome.

Her * fate approaches ! yet, I will engage
Some few, the master souls of all this age,
To do an act of just heroic rage.

Tis hard so brave a man should fall so low;
But worse to let so great a people bow
To one themselves have rais'd, who scorns them now,

Yet oh! I grieve that Brutus should be stain'd,
Whose life, exçepting this one act, remain'd
So pure, that future times will think it feign'd.

*The fall of the
be Commonwealthi tubenüt Wardhang dine Tyrundy,

But

But only he can make the rest combine;
The very life and soul of their design:
The centre where those mighty spirits join.

Unthinking men no sort of scruples make;
And some are bad, only for mischief's fake;
But ev'n the best are guilty by miftake.

Thus, while they all for publick good intend,
To bring a tyrant to untimely end,
The over-zealous Brutus Atabs his friend.

Third SONG after the third Act.

Chorus of Roman Senators.

D

ARK is the path poor mortals tread:

Wisdom itself a guide does need:
We little thought, when Cafar bled,

That a worse César would succeed.
And are we under such a hopeless curse,
That we can never change but for the worse?

Under

Under pretence of necessary force

By which we our own selves enthrall,
These, without blushes or remorse,

Proscribe the best, impoy'rish all.
The Gauls themselves, our greatest foes,
Could offer terms no worse than those.

That Cæfar with ambitious thoughts

Had virtues too, his very foes cou'd find:
These equal him in all his faults,

But never in his noble mind.
That free-born spirits shou'd obey,
Wretches who know not how to sway!

Too late we now repent our hasty choice;

In vain bemoan so quick a turn; Dejected Rome cries with united voice,

Better, a thousand times, that we had born Our ills a while, with patience, and with ease,

fatal cure much worse than our disease.

Than try'd

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Fourth Song after the fourth Act.
Chorus of Soldiers in the Army of

Brutus and Cassius.
UR vows thus chearfully we fing,
O

'Till the fierce clangor fires our blood : Let all the neighb'ring echoes ring

With wishes for our country's good:
And, for reward, of the just Gods we claim
A life with freedom, or a death with fame.

May Rome be freed from war's alarms,

And mulas too heavy to be born: May she beware of foreign arms,

And send them back with noble scorn., And, for reward, oc.

May she no more confide in friends

Who nothing farther understood, Than only, for their private ends,

To waste her wealth, and spil her blood. And, for reward, c.

Our

Our greatest patriots Fove restrain

From faction, which they wisdom call; * From the low thoughts of little gain,

And hazarding the losing all. And, for reward, cc.

Our arms we'll eagerly prepare,

Then, to the glorious combat fly; All disengag'd from future care,

Except to overcome, or dye. And, for reward, etc.

They fight, oppression to increase :

We, for our liberties and laws;
It were a fin to doubt success,

When freedom is the noble cause.
And, for reward, of the juft Gods we claiin
A life with freedom, or a death with fame.

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