Classic Poem

Shall utmost Britain, fine-hair'd Gaul,
Mamurra's be, with wealth replete?
He, who views this unmov'd, is all
That's squand'ring, lewd, extortionate:
This, vicious Cæsar, wilt thou see, and bear?
O lewd, o squandering, extortioner!

Shall he extravagant, and vain,
From bed to bed licentious rove;
Like the white dove of Paphos' queen,
Or young Adonis form'd for love:
This, vicious Cæsar, wilt thou see, and bear?
O lewd, o squandering, extortioner!

Say, chief of monarchs, did thy sword
Visit the last of Western isles;
That thy drain'd minion might afford
To riot in excess of spoils?
Wert thou for this so prodigal; that he,
Nurs'd by thy lust, might sate his gluttony?

First thy own private funds he spent,
Then the lewd gains of Pontic lands,
Next all Iberia's treasures went,
And Tagus with its golden sands:
Now trembling Gaul beholds the plund'rer near,
And Britain's destin'd land now shakes with fear!

Then to thy fost'ring breast why lay
That wretch, who but devours the state?
Thou first of emperors, o say,
Was it for this thou wert made great?
That you, and Pompey, in contention, hurl'd
Distress, and ruin o'er th' affrighted world?