Classic and Contemporary Poetry
HORACE: CHORUS AT THE END OF ACT 2, by PIERRE CORNEILLE First Line: How prone are people tir'd with peace Last Line: The other kicks and knocks the sky. | ||||||||
How prone are people tir'd with Peace, To nauseate their happiness, And headlong into mischief run, To feed their foul ambition! Leisure and luxury, when met In populous cities, do beget That monster War, which at the first, In little private discords nurst, Grows higher by degrees, until Having got power to his will, He breaks into a general flame, Beyond what Polity can tame. No int'rest then escapeth free From insolence and cruelty: And facts that flow from brutish lust, The titles wear of great and just. Nay when War's ensigns are display'd, It is Religion to invade, No matter whom, nor what the cause; Nor is there room for other Laws, Than what the Victor will on those, His riots have subdu'd, impose. Yet there have still pretences been The vilest practices to screen. There never wanted a pretence To violate suff'ring innocence; Though whatsoever men pretend, Wealth, and Dominion are their end. Imperious Rome! must Alba feel The edge of thy invading steel? Alba, thy Mother, from whose womb, Thy founder Romulus did come? Or if thou tak'st an impious pride To be esteem'd a Parricide, Can nothing satiate thy will Unless that Brothers, Brothers kill? Deluded Heroes! How they fly To meet a cruel Destiny, And sacrifice themselves to fame, A nothing, a mere airy name, When in th' unnatural contests Who conquer'd falls is happiest! 'Tis tyrant Honour unto thee We owe this bloody Tragedy, Whom, but the virtuous none obey, And being so, become thy prey. They see in thy deluding glass Trophies and Triumphs, when, alas, 'Tis their own blood they haste to shed And live, but to lament the Dead. Deaf unto Piety, and Love, The combatants are gone to prove Themselves true Patriots, when they are The instruments of Civil War, And hazard in a combat more, Than in a battle heretofore. Fate holds the balance whilst they figh And finds both scales of equal weight; Valour with Valour even weighs, Honour with Honour, Praise with Praise; But when she lays upon the beam Her partial hand, and varies them, The one scale gets it, whilst on high The other kicks and knocks the sky. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HORACE: CHORUS AT THE END OF ACT 3 by PIERRE CORNEILLE HORACE: CHORUS AT THE END OF ACT 4 by PIERRE CORNEILLE HORACE: CHORUS AT THE END OF ACT 5 by PIERRE CORNEILLE HORACE: SONG AT THE END OF ACT 1 by PIERRE CORNEILLE HORACE: SONG AT THE END OF ACT 2 by PIERRE CORNEILLE HORACE: SONG AT THE END OF ACT 3 by PIERRE CORNEILLE HORACE: SONG AT THE END OF ACT 4 by PIERRE CORNEILLE HORACE: SONG AT THE END OF ACT 5 by PIERRE CORNEILLE STANZAS TO THE MARQUISE by PIERRE CORNEILLE |
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