Mercy Otis Warren,
The Sack of Rome — Act IV
“ Thy deep dejection---thy too curious eye--- A brow o'ercast with something like a frown, Ne'er seen before, where sweetness sits enthron'd, And soft complacence has been us'd to smile, Amidst the grief that wrung the aching heart. EudociaDoes thine own conscience smile, and whisper peace; And art thou sure that all's secure within? I much suspect, thy friend, Traulista, Is a secret foe---and that his hostile hand, Oft steep'd in blood---fierce as the vulture's fang, Was not inactive on that fatal day, When the remorseless sword mow'd down as grass The faithful friends to Valentinian's house. ”
