How on Metellus' consulship ensued
Intestine strife, of the war's causes, crimes
And varying phases, Fortune's death-game rude,
Triumvir's leagues importing troublous times,

Arms drenched with yet unexpiated gore,
Thou undertakest, hazardous enterprise,
To treat, adventuring on treacherous floor
Of cinder-crust o'er smouldering fire that lies.

Awhile let austere tragedy's Muse deny
Her presence to the stage. Thy task anon
Of annals ended, to her service high
Thou wilt return and Attic buskin don,

Pollio, in court sad prisoners' hope and stay,
And of the Senate when in council heard,
On whom undying fame the wreath of bay
Won in Dalmatian triumph has conferred.

Now dost thou with the bray of clarions loud
And the shrill note of fife mine ears assail:
Chargers I see by flash of armour cowed
Take flight, I see the riders' faces quail.

Of mighty captains grimy with the mire
Not all inglorious of the battle-field
I hear thee tell, and of the world entire,
Save Cato's dogged spirit, forced to yield.

Juno and of the gods all who had wrought
For Afric's cause, and powerless to aid
Had quit her shores, the conquerors' grandsons brought
As victims to appease Jugurtha's shade.

Where is the plain that doth not record bear,
Enriched with Latin blood and barrow-strown,
Of impious fights and crash that filled the air,
And to the Mede made Italy's ruin known?

Can gulf be found or rivers that remain
Ignorant of the mournful war, or sea
Where Daunian carnage hath not left a stain,
Or shore from taint of civil bloodshed free?

Nay, froward Muse, lay not thy jests aside,
The wail of Cean elegy to renew.
In Dionaean grot with me abide,
And merry themes with lighter touch pursue.