Now Caesar left the walls of trembling Rome

And swift across the cloudy Alpine tops

He winged his march; but while all others fled

Far from his path, in terror of his name,

Phocaea's (24) manhood with un-Grecian faith

Held to their pledged obedience, and dared

To follow right not fate; but first of all

With olive boughs of truce before them borne

(Editor：system)