THE WIVES OF THE C^SAKS. 137 



And Death had all things clear'd away, 



All fears how I should tell 

 My tidings in the softest way, 



And what to him befell. 

 And where was my long studied tale, 



Which I to tell felt fear ? 

 Had Death, to save a broken heart, 



Hurl'd his cold arrow there ? 



All pensively I sought my couch, 



But, ah ! no rest could find ; 

 The heath, the moon, and dying man 



Alone absorb'd my mind ; 



For still I saw his clenched hands, 



His moon-lit ghastly eyes ; 

 His grinding teeth, and black dry lips 



Ah, me ! it call'd forth sighs. 



In sleep I bore him in my arms, 



Or saw his visage grim ; 

 Or knelt amid that piercing furze 



To rub the cold cramp' d limb. 



In sleep I heard his piercing groans 



Sound o'er that heath so damp ; 

 Or fancied ringing through my ears, 



The dying man's lone tramp ! 



Alone alone I've been alone, 



Where no house you could see ; 

 Alone, upon a wide wild heath, 



A dying man with me. 



T. M. 



THE WIVES OF THE CAESARS. 



" Paulatim deinde ad Superos Astrsea recessit 

 Hac comite, atq. duee pariter fugere soroes." 



JUVENAL, Sat. 6. 



Cossutia. Cornelia. Pompeia. Calpurnia. 



WHILE the Roman republic retained the austere and frugal man- 

 ners essential to its liberty, the domestic virtues of its females were 

 the honourable sources of their personal celebrity. In the youth of 

 the aspiring commonwealth, it was rather the effect of primitive 

 antonomy, than that of law or regulation, that the females were ex- 

 cluded from all concern or influence in state affairs, and destined to 

 the cares and occupations of domestic life. Tradition had, however, 

 transmitted from the earlier times of the " immortal city" examples 

 of the chastity and courage of its females ; and the memorable virtue 



M.M. No. 98. T 



