1672-1719.
CATO.
Act i. Sc. 1.
The dawn is overcast, the morning lowers,
And heavily in clouds brings on the day,
The great, th' important day, big with the fate
Of Cato, and of Home.
Act i. Sc. 1.
Thy steady temper, Portius,
Can look on guilt, rebellion, fraud, and Caesar,
In the calm lights of mild philosophy.
Act i. Sc. 1.
'Tis not in mortals to command success,
But we'll do more, Sempronius: we'll deserve it.
Act i. Sc. 1.
'Tis pride, rank pride, and haughtiness of soul;
I think the Romans call it Stoicism.
Act i. Sc. 1.
Were you with these, my prince, you'd soon forget
The pale unripened beauties of the North.
Act ii. Sc. 1.
My voice is still for war.
Gods! can a Roman Senate long debate
Which of the two to choose, slavery or death?
Act iv. Sc. 1.
The woman that deliberates is lost.
Act iv. Sc. 2.
When vice prevails, and impious men bear sway,
The post of honor is a private station.
Act v. Sc. 1.
It must be so.—Plato, thou reasonest well.
Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire,
This longing after immortality?
'Tis the Divinity that stirs within us; 'Tis Heaven itself that points out an hereafter,
And intimates Eternity to man.
Act v. Sc. I.
I'm weary of conjectures.
Act v. Sc. 1.
The soul secured in her existence, smiles
At the drawn dagger, and defies its point.
Act v. Sc. 1.
The wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds
The Campaign.
And, pleased th' Almighty's orders to perform
Rides in the whirlwind and directs the storm.[9]
From the Letter on Italy.
For wheresoe'er I turn my ravished eyes,
Gay gilded scenes and shining prospects rise;
Poetic fields encompass me around,
And still I seem to tread on classic ground.[10]
Ode.
The spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue, ethereal sky,
And spangled heavens, a shining frame,
Their great Original proclaim.
Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wondrous tale,
And nightly to the listening earth
Repeats the story of her birth;
While all the stars that round her burn,
And all the planets in their tarn,
Confirm the tidings as they roll,
And spread the truth from pole to pole.
Forever singing, as they shine,
The hand that made us is divine.