Page:The Pharsalia of Lucan; (IA cu31924026485809).pdf/101
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Book III
MASSILIA
77
Gleamed in the forest depths, yet were the treesUnkindled; and that snakes in frequent foldsWere coiled around the trunks. Men flee the spotNor dare to worship near: and e'en the priestOr when bright Phœbus holds the height, or whenDark night controls the heavens, in anxious dread 480Draws near the grove and fears to find its lord.Spared in the former war, still dense it roseWhere all the hills were bare, and Cæsar nowIts fall commanded. But the brawny armsWhich swayed the axes trembled, and the men,Awed by the sacred grove's dark majesty,Held back the blow they thought would be returned.This Cæsar saw, and swift within his graspUprose a ponderous axe, which downward fellCleaving a mighty oak that towered to heaven, 490While thus he spake: 'Henceforth let no man dread'To fell this forest: all the crime is mine.'This be your creed.' He spake, and all obeyed,For Cæsar's ire weighed down the wrath of Heaven.Yet ceased they not to fear. Then first the oak,Dodona's ancient boast; the knotty holm;The cypress, witness of patrician grief,The buoyant alder, laid their foliage lowAdmitting day; though scarcely through the stemsTheir fall found passage. At the sight the Gauls 500Grieved; but the garrison within the wallsRejoiced: for thus shall men insult the godsAnd find no punishment? Yet fortune oftProtects the guilty; on the poor aloneThe gods can vent their ire. Enough hewn down,They seize the country wagons; and the hind,His oxen gone which else had drawn the plough,Mourns for his harvest.