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VIII.
Detains you from their head, your native post?
Who most their country's fame and fortune share,
'Tis theirs to share her toils, her perils most.
Each man his task in social life sustains.
With partial labours, with domestic gains
Let others dwell: to you indulgent heav'n
By counsel and by arms the public cause
To serve for public love and love's applause,
The first imployment far, the noblest hire, hath giv'n.
IX.
Of Attic chiefs in freedom's war divine?
Of Rome's dread gen'rals? the Valerian name?
The Fabian sons? the Scipios, matchless line?
Your lot was theirs. the farmer and the swain
Met his lov'd patron's summons from the plain;
The legions gather'd; the bright eagles flew:
Barbarian monarchs in the triumph mourn'd;
The conqu'rors to their household gods return'd,
And fed Calabrian flocks, and steer'd the Sabine plough.
