Pharsalia - Book Iii: Massilia Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRST UVWXYZA2KUB2C2D2SE2G F2G2DH2I2A2J2K2L2 M2N2O2P2F2Q2D R2S2T2U2H2V2D2W2X2Y2 J2D2UZ2A3B3 C3D3A3J2E3A3A3F3A3YG 3T2A3H3I3J3X2K3L3A3Z C2M3A3N3O3P3Q3N3 A3R3M2A3M3YDLS3Y2T3A 3A3C A3HA3Y2A3U3C2A3C2A3A 3A3Q3A3V3A3YA3W3X3PY 3G3A3A3Z3C2M3Q3A3A3Z A3A4DMMB4A3A3C4D4C2A 3E4A3BMM3M E4MR3A3B3J2A2MMMA3DA 3F4 M2A3MMY2F4G4YA3A3A3

With canvas yielding to the western windA
The navy sailed the deep and every eyeB
Gazed on Ionian billows But the chiefC
Turned not his vision from his native shoreD
Now left for ever while the morning mistsE
Drew down upon the mountains and the cliffsF
Faded in distance till his aching sightG
No longer knew them Then his wearied frameH
Sank in the arms of sleep But Julia's shapeI
In mournful guise dread horror on her browJ
Rose through the gaping earth and from her tombK
Erect in form as of a Fury spakeL
'Driven from Elysian fields and from the plainsM
The blest inhabit when the war beganN
I dwell in Stygian darkness where abideO
The souls of all the guilty There I sawP
Th' Eumenides with torches in their handsQ
Prepared against thy battles and the fleetsR
Which by the ferryman of the flaming streamS
Were made to bear thy dead while Hell itselfT
Relaxed its punishments the sisters threeU
With busy fingers all their needful taskV
Could scarce accomplish and the threads of fateW
Dropped from their weary hands With me thy wifeX
Thou Magnus leddest happy triumphs homeY
New wedlock brings new luck Thy concubineZ
Whose star brings all her mighty husbands illA2
Cornelia weds in thee a breathing tombK
Through wars and oceans let her cling to theeU
So long as I may break thy nightly restB2
No moment left thee for her love but allC2
By night to me by day to Caesar givenD2
Me not the oblivious banks of Lethe's streamS
Have made forgetful and the kings of deathE2
Have suffered me to join thee in mid fightG
I will be with thee and my haunting ghostF2
Remind thee Caesar's daughter was thy spouseG2
Thy sword kills not our pledges civil warD
Shall make thee wholly mine ' She spake and fledH2
But he though heaven and hell thus bode defeatI2
More bent on war with mind assured of illA2
'Why dread vain phantoms of a dreaming brainJ2
Or nought of sense and feeling to the soulK2
Is left by death or death itself is nought 'L2
-
Now fiery Titan in declining pathM2
Dipped to the waves his bright circumferenceN2
So much diminished as a growing moonO2
Not yet full circled or when past the fullP2
When to the fleet a hospitable coastF2
Gave access and the ropes in order laidQ2
The sailors struck the masts and rowed ashoreD
-
When Caesar saw the fleet escape his graspR2
And hidden from his view by lengthening seasS2
Left without rival on Hesperian soilT2
He found no joy in triumph rather grievedU2
That thus in safety Magnus' flight was spedH2
Not any gifts of Fortune now sufficedV2
His fiery spirit and no victory wonD2
Unless the war was finished with the strokeW2
Then arms he laid aside in guise of peaceX2
Seeking the people's favour skilled to knowY2
How to arouse their ire and how to gainJ2
The popular love by corn in plenty givenD2
For famine only makes a city freeU
By gifts of food the tyrant buys a crowdZ2
To cringe before him but a people starvedA3
Is fearless everB3
-
Curio he bidsC3
Cross over to Sicilian cities whereD3
Or ocean by a sudden rise o'erwhelmedA3
The land or split the isthmus right in twainJ2
Leaving a path for seas Unceasing tidesE3
There labour hugely lest again should meetA3
The mountains rent asunder Nor were leftA3
Sardinian shores unvisited each isleF3
Is blest with noble harvests which have filledA3
More than all else the granaries of RomeY
And poured their plenty on Hesperia's shoresG3
Not even Libya with its fertile soilT2
Their yield surpasses when the southern windA3
Gives way to northern and permits the cloudsH3
To drop their moisture on the teeming earthI3
This ordered Caesar leads his legions onJ3
Not armed for war but as in time of peaceX2
Returning to his home Ah had he comeK3
With only Gallia conquered and the NorthL3
What long array of triumph had he broughtA3
What pictured scenes of battle how had RhineZ
And Ocean borne his chains How noble GaulC2
And Britain's fair haired chiefs his lofty carM3
Had followed Such a triumph had he lostA3
By further conquest Now in silent fearN3
They watched his marching troops nor joyful townsO3
Poured out their crowds to welcome his returnP3
Yet did the conqueror's proud soul rejoiceQ3
Far more than at their love at such a fearN3
-
Now Anxur's hold was passed the oozy roadA3
That separates the marsh the grove sublimeR3
Where reigns the Scythian goddess and the pathM2
By which men bear the fasces to the feastA3
On Alba's summit From the height afarM3
Gazing in awe upon the walls of RomeY
His native city since the Northern warD
Unseen unvisited thus Caesar spakeL
'Who would not fight for such a god like townS3
And have they left thee Rome without a blowY2
Thank the high gods no eastern hosts are hereT3
To wreak their fury nor Sarmatian hordeA3
With northern tribes conjoined by Fortune's giftA3
This war is civil else this coward chiefC
Had been thy ruin '-
-
Trembling at his feetA3
He found the city deadly fire and flameH
As from a conqueror gods and fanes dispersedA3
Such was the measure of their fear as thoughY2
His power and wish were one No festal shoutA3
Greeted his march no feigned acclaim of joyU3
Scarce had they time for hate In Phoebus' hallC2
Their hiding places left a crowd appearedA3
Of Senators uncalled for none could callC2
No Consul there the sacred shrine adornedA3
Nor Praetor next in rank and every seatA3
Placed for the officers of state was voidA3
Caesar was all and to his private voiceQ3
All else were listeners The fathers satA3
Ready to grant a temple or a throneV3
If such his wish and for themselves to voteA3
Or death or exile Well it was for RomeY
That Caesar blushed to order what they fearedA3
Yet in one breast the spirit of freedom roseW3
Indignant for the laws for when the gatesX3
Of Saturn's temple hot Metellus sawP
Were yielding to the shock he clove the ranksY3
Of Caesar's troops and stood before the doorsG3
As yet unopened 'Tis the love of goldA3
Alone that fears not death no hand is raisedA3
For perished laws or violated rightsZ3
But for this dross the vilest cause of allC2
Men fight and die Thus did the Tribune barM3
The victor's road to rapine and with voiceQ3
Clear ringing spake 'Save o'er Metellus deadA3
This temple opens not my sacred bloodA3
Shall flow thou robber ere the gold be thineZ
And surely shall the Tribune's power defiedA3
Find an avenging god this Crassus knewA4
Who followed by our curses sought the warD
And met disaster on the Parthian plainsM
Draw then thy sword nor fear the crowd that gapesM
To view thy crimes the citizens are goneB4
Not from our treasury reward for guiltA3
Thy hosts shall ravish other towns are leftA3
And other nations wage the war on themC4
Drain not Rome's peace for spoil ' The victor thenD4
Incensed to ire 'Vain is thy hope to fallC2
In noble death as guardian of the rightA3
With all thine honours thou of Caesar's rageE4
Art little worthy never shall thy bloodA3
Defile his hand Time lowest things with highB
Confounds not yet so much that if thy voiceM
Could save the laws it were not better farM3
They fell by Caesar ' Such his lofty wordsM
-
But as the Tribune yielded not his rageE4
Rose yet the more and at his soldiers' swordsM
One look he cast forgetting for the timeR3
What robe he wore but soon Metellus heardA3
These words from Cotta 'When men bow to powerB3
Freedom of speech is only Freedom's baneJ2
Whose shade at least survives if with free willA2
Thou dost whate'er is bidden thee For usM
Some pardon may be found a host of illsM
Compelled submission and the shame is lessM
That to have done which could not be refusedA3
Yield then this wealth the seeds of direful warD
A nation's anger is by losses stirredA3
When laws protect it but the hungry slaveF4
Brings danger to his master not himself '-
-
At this Metellus yielded from the pathM2
And as the gates rolled backward echoed loudA3
The rock Tarpeian and the temple's depthsM
Gave up the treasure which for centuriesM
No hand had touched all that the Punic foeY2
And Perses and Philippus conquered gaveF4
And all the gold which Pyrrhus panic struckG4
Left when he fled that gold the price of RomeY
Which yet Fabricius sold not and the hoardA3
Laid up by saving sires the tribute sentA3
By Asia's richest natA3

Marcus Annaeus Lucanus



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