Be this your first decree, Whose truth all peoples and all kings confess; Be this the Senate.

Let the frozen wain Demand your presence, or the torrid zone Wherein the day and night with equal tread For ever march; still follows in your steps The central power of Imperial Rome.
When flamed the Capitol with fires of Gaul When Veii held Camillus, there with him Was Rome, nor ever though it changed its clime Your order lost its rights.

In Caesar's hands Are sorrowing houses and deserted homes, Laws silent for a space, and forums closed In public fast.

His Senate-house beholds Those Fathers only whom from Rome it drove, While Rome was full.

Of that high order all Not here, are exiles.