Wars Worse than Civil on Thessalian Plains

[ The subject: civil war ]

Wars worse then civill on Thessalian playnes,
And outrage strangling law and people strong,
We sing, whose conquering swords their own breasts launcht,
Armies alied, the kingdoms league uprooted,
Th'affrighted worlds force bent on publique spoile,
Trumpets, and drums like deadly threatning other,
Eagles alike displaide, darts answering darts.
Romans , what madnes, what huge lust of warre
Hath made Barbarians drunke with Latin bloud?
Now Babilon , (proud through our spoile) should stoop,
While slaughtred Crassus ghost walks unreveng'd,
Will ye wadge war, for which you shall not triumph?
Ay me, O what a world of land and sea,
Might they have won whom civil broiles have slaine,
As far as Titan springs where night dims heaven,
I to the Torrid Zone where midday burnes,
And where stiffe winter whom no spring resolves,
Fetters the Euxin sea, with chaines of yce:
Scythia and wilde Armenia had bin yoakt,
And they of Nilus mouth (if there live any.)
Roome if thou take delight in impious warre,
First conquer all the earth, then turne thy force
Against thy selfe: as yet thou wants not foes.