ABSTRACT
Whoe're thou art whom this fair statue charms, These curling aspicks, and these wounded arms, Who view'st these eyes for ever fixt in death, Think not unwilling I resign'd my breath. What, shou'd a Queen, so long the boast of fame, 5 Have stoop'd to serve an haughty Roman dame? Shou'd I have liv'd, in Casar's triumph born, To grace his conquests and his pomp adorn ? I, whom the blest /Egyptian climate bore To the soft joys of Nile's delightful shore. 10 Whom prostrate Kings beheld unrival'd shine, And the wide East ador'd with rites divine! Deny'd to reign, I stood resolv'd to die, Such charms has death when join'd with liberty.
