less safe appears,
    The souldier trusts the fortune of the wars. 
    Prest by their fate, thus as they fear they run. 
    ‘Midst these disorders, through th’ abandon’d town: 
    A moving sight, wild tumults here and there,
    Follow the blind impulses of their fear. 
    Vanquisht by rumour all, prepar’d for flight,
    Their much lamented habitations quit: 
    Trembling, this takes his children in his arms,
    And that protects his guardian gods from harm. 
    Scar’d from their homes, unwillingly they go,
    And in their wishes stab the absent foe. 
    Some bear their wives, amidst ten thousand fears,
    In sad imbrace; and some their aged sires: 
    The tender youth, unus’d to burdens, bear
    Only that with ’em for which most they fear: 
    Some less discreet, strive to bear all away,
    And only for the foe prepare the prey. 
    So in a storm when no sea-arts avail
    To guide the ship with any certain sail;
    Some bind the shatter’d mast, with thoughts secure,
    Others are swimming t’ward the peaceful shore;
    While with full sails kind fortune these implore. 
    But why do we of such small fears complain,
    With both the consuls greater Pompey ran,
    That Asia aw’d, in dire Hydaspes grown
    The only rock, its pyrates split upon;
    Whose third triumph o’re earth made Jove afraid,
    Proud with success he’d next his Heaven invade: 
    To whom the ocean yielding honours gave,
    And rougher Bosphorus humbly still’d his wave. 
    Yet he, of empires and of men the shame,
    Quitting the honour of a ruler’s name,
    Meanly at once abandon’d Rome and fame. 
    Now this to Heaven it self does fears impart,
    And the mild train of quiet gods depart;
    Frighted with wars they quit the impious world,
    And leave mankind in wild confusion hurl’d. 
    Fair Peace, as leader of the goodly train,
    Beating her snowy arms, did first complain;
    A wreath of olives bound her drooping head,
    And to Hell’s dark insatiate realms she fled. 
    Justice and Faith on her attending went,
    And mournful Concord, with her garment rent. 
    On th’ other side from Hell’s wide gaping jaws,
    A train of dire inhabitants arose: 
    Dreadful errings, fierce Bellona there,
    Fraud, and Megera arm’d with brands of fire,
    And th’ gastly image of pale death appear: 
    Disorder’d Rage from all her fetters freed,
    Proudly ’midst these lifts her distracted head,
    And her hackt face with bloody helmet hid. 
    On her left arm a target old and worn,
    Pierc’d with innumerable darts was born,
    And brands of fire supported in her right,
    The impious world with flames and ruin threat. 
    The gods descending, leave their still abode,
    And the stars wondring miss their usual load;