The field o’er brothers’ bodies as of foes!
Then sing a triumph, while in secret flows
The tear they shed as from an anguish’d heart.
Less lofty, but more cunning on his part,
Another sighs for ill-secure command:
With flatteries solicitously plann’d,
Follows the air of favour, and his pride
In adulation vile he serves to hide,
To exalt himself; and if he gain his end
His brow on all beneath will haughty bend;