Classic Poem

From lasting and unclouded Day,
From Joys refin'd above Allay,
And from a spring without decay,
I come, by Cynthia's borrow'd Beams,
To visit my Cornelia's Dreams,
And give them yet sublimer Theams.

Behold the Man thou Lov'dst before,
Pure streams have wash'd away his Gore,
And Pompey now shall bleed no more.

By Death my Glory I resume;
For 'twould have been a harsher Doom
T'outlive the Liberty of Rome .

By me her doubtfull fortune try'd,
Falling, bequeaths my Fame this Pride,
I for it liv'd, and with it Dy'd.

Nor shall my Vengeance be withstood,
Or unattended with a Flood
Of Roman and Egyptian Blood.

Caesar himself it shall pursue,
His dayes shall troubled be, and few,
And he shall fall by Treason too.

He, by severity Divine,
Shall be an offering at my Shrine;
As I was his, he must be mine.

Thy stormie Life regret no more,
For Fate shall waft thee soon ashoar,
And to thy Pompey thee restore.

Where, past the fears of sad removes,
We'l entertain our spotless Loves,
In beauteous and Immortal Groves.

There none a Guilty Crown shall wear,
Nor Caesar be Dictator there,
Nor shall Cornelia shed a Tear.