L.A. Seneca the philosopher, his booke of consolation to Marcia. Translated into an English poem
About this Item
- Title
- L.A. Seneca the philosopher, his booke of consolation to Marcia. Translated into an English poem
- Author
- Seneca, Lucius Annaeus, ca. 4 B.C.-65 A.D.
- Publication
- London :: Printed by E[lizabeth] P[urslowe] for Henry Seile, and are to be sold at the Tygres head in St. Pauls Church-yard,
- 1635.
- Rights/Permissions
-
To the extent possible under law, the Text Creation Partnership has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to this keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above, according to the terms of the CC0 1.0 Public Domain Dedication (http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/). This waiver does not extend to any page images or other supplementary files associated with this work, which may be protected by copyright or other license restrictions. Please go to http://www.textcreationpartnership.org/ for more information.
- Subject terms
- Consolation -- Early works to 1800.
- Link to this Item
-
http://name.umdl.umich.edu/B15755.0001.001
- Cite this Item
-
"L.A. Seneca the philosopher, his booke of consolation to Marcia. Translated into an English poem." In the digital collection Early English Books Online 2. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/B15755.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 3, 2024.
Pages
Page 20
Even in the midst of that most solemne state,
When he the Capitoll did consecrate,
Whereof he tooke no notice, but went on,
Chanting the Hymne of Consecration,
And without signe of griefe devoutly pray'd
To Iupiter the Common-wealth to aide.
Could'st thou conceive that sorrow like t'abide,
Which he at first assault so well did hide?
He worthy was to be so highly imploy'd,
And worthy of the Priest-hood he enjoy'd,
Who in a constant zeale did not forbeare
To serve the Gods, yea when they angry were:
Yet comming home he mourn'd, and teares let fall,
And having done the rites of Funerall,
Vnto the Capitoll againe return'd,
With chearefull looks as though he had not mourn'd.
Paulus Emilius, when he captive led
King Perseus in such Triumph, buried
The Sonnes that wholly he rely'd upon,
When all the rest were in adoption;
What they were whom he kept thou may'st suppose,
When Scipio himselfe was one of those
Were given away, it was no small regret,
To see him in his empty Chariot set:
Yet he discours'd, and thankt the Gods that gave
Him his desire, who oftentimes would crave,
That if perchance they should some ill pretend
After so great a Victory to send,
It rather might upon himselfe redound,
Than any way the Common-wealth to wound.
How bravely did he beare that stroke of Fate,
Who did his Childrens deaths congratulate:
Page 21
No stranger chance could any man betide,
He lost his comforts and his helpes beside;
Yet notwithstanding Perseus never had
The happinesse, to see Emilius sad.