(Taken from Book 1 of the Caesariad)
Arms, and the men I sing, who, forc'd by fate,
And jealous Vulcan's eternal hate,
Fought long and hard, in terrible war,
To win the glory their divine father bore.
Three sons, each holding a single part,
Of Caesar's godhood; his beauty, valour, and art.
For no mere mortal, even those of his seed,
Could match the ability of the Divine Julius to lead
The scions of Romulus, from whose loins had come,
The long glories and Empire of majestic Rome.