We have been favoured with a translation of the Latin verses inserted in our last Number. We have little doubt that our readers will agree with us, in hoping that this may not be the last contribution which we shall receive from the same hand.[[24]]
Parent of countless crimes, in headlong rage,
War with herself see frantic Gallia wage,
Till worn and wasted by intestine strife,
She falls—her languid pulse scarce quick with life.
But soon she feels through every trembling vein,
New strength collected from convulsive pain:
Onward she moves, and sounds the dire alarm,
And bids insulted nations haste to arm;
Spreads wide the waste of war, and hurls the brand