The supple twigs never resound with the twittering singing

Of birds in the Springtime. But chaos, volcanic black boulders

Of pumice lie Happy within their drear setting of cypress.

Amidst these infernal surroundings the ruler of Hades

Uplifted his head by the funeral flames silhouetted

And sprinkled with white from the ashes of corpses; and challenged

Winged Fortune in words such as these: 'Oh thou fickle controller

Of things upon earth and in heaven, security's foeman,

Oh Chance! Oh thou lover eternally faithful to change, and

Possession's betrayer, dost own thyself crushed by the power

Of Rome? Canst not raise up the tottering mass to its downfall

Its strength the young manhood of Rome now despises, and staggers

In bearing the booty heaped up by its efforts: behold how

They lavish their spoils! Wealth run mad now brings down their
destruction.

They build out of gold and their palaces reach to the heavens;