with happy hand the Romain walles did’st build,
Then Antonies fond loues to it hath done.
Nor euer warre more holie, nor more iust,
Nor vndertaken with more hard constraint,
Then is this warre: which were it not, our state
Within small time all dignitie should loose:
Though I lament (thou Sunne my witnes art;
And thou great Ioue) that it so deadly proues:
That Romain bloud should in such plentie flowe,
Watring the fields and pastures where we goe.