A Poem

Dryden, John

Absalom and Achitophel. A Poem

Die große eBook-Bibliothek der Weltliteratur

John Dryden

Absalom and Achitophel

A Poem

[First Part]

– Si Propiùs stes

Te Capiet Magis –

To the Reader.

Tis not my intention to make an Apology for my Poem: Some will think it needs no Excuse; and others will receive none. The Design, I am sure, is honest: but he who draws his Pen for one Party, must expect to make Enemies of the other. For, Wit and Fool, are Consequents of Whig and Tory: And every man is a Knave or an Ass to the contrary side. There's a Treasury of Merits in the Phanatick Church, as well as in the Papist; and a Pennyworth to be had of Saintship, Honesty, and Poetry, for the Leud, the Factious, and the Blockheads: But the longest Chapter in Deuteronomy, has not Curses enow for an Anti-Bromingham. My Comfort is, their manifest Prejudice to my Cause, will render their Judgment of less Authority against me. Yet if a Poem have a Genius, it will force its own reception in the World. For there's a sweetness in good Verse, which Tickles even while it Hurts: And, no man can be heartily angry with him, who pleases him against his will. The Commendation of Adversaries, is the greatest Triumph of a Writer; because it never comes unless Extorted. But I can be satisfied on more easy termes: If I happen to please the more Moderate sort, I shall be sure of an honest Party; and, in all probability, of the best Judges; for, the least Concern'd, are commonly the least Corrupt: And, I confess, I have laid in for those, by rebating the Satyre, (where Justice woud allow it) from carrying too sharp an Edge. They, who can Criticize so weakly, as to imagine I have done my Worst, may be Convinc'd, at their own Cost, that I can write Severely, with more ease, than I can Gently. I have but laught at some mens Follies, when I coud have declaim'd against their Vices; and, other mens Vertues I have commended, as freely as I have tax'd their Crimes. And now, if you are a Malitious Reader, I expect you should return upon me, that I affect to be thought more Impartial than I am. But, if men are not to be judg'd by their Professions, God forgive you Common-wealths-men, for professing so plausibly for the Government. You cannot be so Unconscionable, as to charge me for not Subscribing of my Name; for that woud reflect too grosly upon your own Party, who never dare, though they have the advantage of a Jury to secure them. If you like not my Poem, the fault may, possibly, be in my Writing: (though 'tis hard for an Authour to judge against himself;) But, more probably, 'tis in your Morals, which cannot bear the truth of it. The Violent, on both sides, will condemn the Character of Absalom, as either too favourably, or too hardly drawn. But, they are not the Violent, whom I desire to please. The fault, on the right hand, is to Extenuate, Palliate and Indulge; and, to confess freely, I have endeavour'd to commit it. Besides the respect which I owe his Birth, I have a greater for his Heroique Vertues; and, David himself, coud not be more tender of the Young-man's Life, than I woud be of his Reputation. But, since the most excellent Natures are always the most easy; and, as being such, are the soonest perverted by ill Counsels, especially when baited with Fame and Glory; 'tis no more a wonder that he withstood not the temptations of Achitophel, than it was for Adam, not to have resisted the two Devils; the Serpent, and the Woman. The conclusion of the Story, I purposely forbore to prosecute; because, I coud not obtain from my self, to shew Absalom Unfortunate. The Frame of it, was cut out, but for a Picture to the Wast; and, if the Draught be so far true, 'tis as much as I design'd.

Were I the Inventour, who am only the Historian, I shoud certainly conclude the Piece, with the Reconcilement of Absalom to David. And, who knows but this may come to pass? Things were not brought to an Extremity where I left the Story: There seems, yet, to be room left for a Composure; hereafter, there may only be for pity. I have not, so much as an uncharitable Wish against Achitophel; but, am content to be Accus'd of a good natur'd Errour; and, to hope with Origen, that the Devil himself may, at last, be sav'd: For which reason, in this Poem, he is neither brought to set his House in order, nor to dispose of his Person afterwards, as he in Wisedom shall think fit. God is infinitely merciful; and his Vicegerent is only not so, because he is not Infinite.

The true end of Satyre, is the amendment of Vices by correction. And he who writes Honestly, is no more an Enemy to the Offendour, than the Physician to the Patient, when he prescribes harsh Remedies to an inveterate Disease: for those, are only in order to prevent the Chyrurgeon's work of an Ense rescindendum, which I wish not to my very Enemies. To conclude all, If the Body Politique have any Analogy to the Natural, in my weak judgment, an Act of Oblivion were as necessary in a Hot, Distemper'd State, as an Opiate woud be in a Raging Fever.

In pious times, e'r Priest-craft did begin,

Before Polygamy was made a sin;

When man, on many, multiply'd his kind,

E'r one to one was, cursedly, confind:

When Nature prompted, and no law deny'd

Promiscuous use of Concubine and Bride;

Then, Israel's Monarch, after Heaven's own heart,

His vigorous warmth did, variously, impart

To Wives and Slaves: And, wide as his Command,

Scatter'd his Maker's Image through the Land.

Michal, of Royal blood, the Crown did wear,

A Soyl ungratefull to the Tiller's care:

Not so the rest; for several Mothers bore

To Godlike David, several Sons before.

But since like slaves his bed they did ascend,

No True Succession could their seed attend.

Of all this Numerous Progeny was none

So Beautifull, so brave as Absolon:

Whether, inspir'd by some diviner Lust,

His Father got him with a greater Gust;

Or that his Conscious destiny made way

By manly beauty to Imperiall sway.

Early in Foreign fields he won Renown,

With Kings and States ally'd to Israel's Crown:

In Peace the thoughts of War he coud remove,

And seem'd as he were only born for love.

What e'r he did was done with so much ease,

In him alone, 'twas Natural to please.

His motions all accompanied with grace;

And Paradise was open'd in his face.

With secret Joy, indulgent David view'd

His Youthfull Image in his Son renew'd:

To all his wishes Nothing he deny'd,

And made the Charming Annabel his Bride.

What faults he had (for who from faults is free?)

His Father coud not, or he woud not see.

Some warm excesses, which the Law forbore,

Were constru'd Youth that purg'd by boyling o'r:

And Amnon's Murther, by a specious Name,

Was call'd a Just Revenge for injur'd Fame.

Thus Prais'd, and Lov'd, the Noble Youth remain'd,

While David, undisturb'd, in Sion raign'd.

But Life can never be sincerely blest:

Heaven punishes the bad, and proves the best.

The Jews, a Headstrong, Moody, Murmuring race,

As ever try'd th' extent and stretch of grace;

God's pamper'd people whom, debauch'd with ease,

No King could govern, nor no God could please;

(Gods they had tri'd of every shape and size

That God-smiths could produce, or Priests devise:)

These Adam-wits, too fortunately free,

Began to dream they wanted libertie;

And when no rule, no president was found

Of men, by Laws less circumscrib'd and bound,

They led their wild desires to Woods and Caves,

And thought that all but Savages were Slaves.

They who when Saul was dead, without a blow,

Made foolish Ishbosheth the Crown forgo;

Who banisht David did from Hebron bring,

And, with a Generall Shout, proclaim'd him King:

Those very Jewes, who, at their very best,

Their Humour more than Loyalty exprest,

Now, wondred why, so long, they had obey'd

An Idoll Monarch which their hands had made:

Thought they might ruine him they could create;

Or melt him to that Golden Calf, a State.

But these were randome bolts: No form'd Design,

Nor Interest made the Factious Croud to joyn:

The sober part of Israel, free from stain,

Well knew the value of a peacefull raign:

And, looking backward with a wise afright,

Saw Seames of wounds, dishonest to the sight;

In contemplation of whose ugly Scars,

They Curst the memory of Civil Wars.

The moderate sort of Men, thus qualifi'd,

Inclin'd the Ballance to the better side:

And David's mildness manag'd it so well,

The Bad found no occasion to Rebell.

But, when to Sin our byast Nature leans,

The carefull Devil is still at hand with means;

And providently Pimps for ill desires:

The Good old Cause reviv'd, a Plot requires.

Plots, true or false, are necessary things,

To raise up Common-wealths, and ruin Kings.

Th' inhabitants of old Jerusalem

Were Jebusites: the Town so call'd from them;

And their's the Native right –

But when the chosen people grew more strong,

The rightfull cause at length became the wrong:

And every loss the men of Jebus bore,

They still were thought God's enemies the more.

Thus, worn and weaken'd, well or ill content,

Submit they must to David's Government:

Impoverisht, and depriv'd of all Command,

Their Taxes doubled as they lost their Land,

And, what was harder yet to flesh and blood,

Their Gods disgrac'd, and burnt like common wood.

This set the Heathen Priesthood in a flame;

For Priests of all Religions are the same:

Of whatsoe'r descent their Godhead be,

Stock, Stone, or other homely pedigree,

In his defence his Servants are as bold

As if he had been born of beaten gold.

The Jewish Rabbins thô their Enemies,

In this conclude them honest men and wise:

For 'twas their duty, all the Learned think,

T' espouse his Cause by whom they eat and drink.

From hence began that Plot, the Nation's Curse,

Bad in it self, but represented worse:

Rais'd in extremes, and in extremes decry'd;

With Oaths affirm'd, with dying Vows deny'd:

Not weigh'd, or winnow'd by the Multitude;

But swallow'd in the Mass, unchew'd and Crude.

Some Truth there was, but dash'd and brew'd with Lyes;

To please the Fools, and puzzle all the Wise.

Succeeding times did equal folly call,

Believing nothing, or believing all.

Th' Egyptian Rites the Jebusites imbrac'd;

Where Gods were recommended by their Tast.

Such savory Deities must needs be good,

As serv'd at once for Worship and for Food.

By force they could not Introduce these Gods;

For Ten to One, in former days was odds.

So Fraud was us'd, (the Sacrificers trade,)

Fools are more hard to Conquer than Perswade.

Their busie Teachers mingled with the Jews;

And rak'd, for Converts, even the Court and Stews:

Which Hebrew Priests the more unkindly took,

Because the Fleece accompanies the Flock.

Some thought they God's Anointed meant to Slay

By Guns, invented since full many a day:

Our Authour swears it not; but who can know

How far the Devil and Jebusites may go?

This Plot, which fail'd for want of common Sense,

Had yet a deep and dangerous Consequence:

For, as when raging Fevers boyl the Blood,

The standing Lake soon floats into a Flood;

And every hostile Humour, which before

Slept quiet in its Channels, bubbles o'r:

So, several Factions from this first Ferment,

Work up to Foam, and threat the Government.

Some by their Friends, more by themselves thought wise,

Oppos'd the Power, to which they could not rise.

Some had in Courts been Great, and thrown from thence,

Like Feinds, were harden'd in Impenitence.

Some, by their Monarch's fatall mercy grown,

From Pardon'd Rebels, Kinsmen to the Throne;

Were rais'd in Power and publick Office high:

Strong Bands, if Bands ungratefull men could tye.

Of these the false Achitophel was first:

A Name to all succeeding Ages Curst:

For close Designs, and crooked Counsells fit;

Sagacious, Bold, and Turbulent of wit:

Restless, unfixt in Principles and Place;

In Power unpleas'd, impatient of Disgrace:

A fiery Soul, which working out its way,

Fretted the Pigmy Body to decay:

And o'r inform'd the Tenement of Clay.

A daring Pilot in extremity;

Pleas'd with the Danger, when the Waves went high

He sought the Storms; but for a Calm unfit,

Would Steer too nigh the Sands, to boast his Wit.

Great Wits are sure to Madness near ally'd;

And thin Partitions do their Bounds divide:

Else, why should he, with Wealth and Honour blest,

Refuse his Age the needful hours of Rest?

Punish a Body which he coud not please;

Bankrupt of Life, yet Prodigal of Ease?

And all to leave, what with his Toyl he won,

To that unfeather'd, two Leg'd thing, a Son:

Got, while his Soul did hudled Notions try;

And born a shapeless Lump, like Anarchy.

In Friendship False, Implacable in Hate:

Resolv'd to Ruine or to Rule the State.

To Compass this the Triple Bond he broke;

The Pillars of the publick Safety shook:

And fitted Israel for a Foreign Yoke.

Then, seiz'd with Fear, yet still affecting Fame,

Usurp'd a Patriott's All-attoning Name.

So easie still it proves in Factious Times,

With publick Zeal to cancel private Crimes:

How safe is Treason, and how sacred ill,

Where none can sin against the Peoples Will:

Where Crouds can wink; and no offence be known,

Since in anothers guilt they find their own.

Yet, Fame deserv'd, no Enemy can grudge;

The Statesman we abhor, but praise the Judge.

In Israels Courts ne'r sat an Abbethdin

With more discerning Eyes, or Hands more clean:

Unbrib'd, unsought, the Wretched to redress;

Swift of Dispatch, and easie of Access.

Oh, had he been content to serve the Crown,

With vertues only proper to the Gown;

Or, had the rankness of the Soyl been freed

From Cockle, that opprest the Noble seed:

David, for him his tunefull Harp had strung,

And Heaven had wanted one Immortal song.

But wilde Ambition loves to slide, not stand;

And Fortunes Ice prefers to Vertues Land:

Achitophel, grown weary to possess

A lawfull Fame, and lazy Happiness;

Disdain'd the Golden fruit to gather free,

And lent the Croud his Arm to shake the Tree.

Now, manifest of Crimes, contriv'd long since,

He stood at bold Defiance with his Prince:

Held up the Buckler of the Peoples Cause,

Against the Crown; and sculk'd behind the Laws.

The wish'd occasion of the Plot he takes,

Some Circumstances finds, but more he makes;

By buzzing Emissaries, fills the ears

Of listning Crowds, with Jealosies and Fears

Of Arbitrary Counsels brought to light,

And proves the King himself a Jebusite:

Weak Arguments! which yet he knew ful well,

Were strong with People easie to Rebell.

For, govern'd by the Moon, the giddy Jews

Tread the same track when she the Prime renews:

And once in twenty Years, their Scribes Record,

By natural Instinct they change their Lord.

Achitophel still wants a Chief, and none

Was found so fit as Warlike Absolon:

Not, that he wish'd his Greatness to create,

(For Polititians neither love nor hate:)

But, for he knew, his Title not allow'd,

Would keep him still depending on the Crowd:

That Kingly power, thus ebbing out, might be

Drawn to the dregs of a Democracy.

Him he attempts, with studied Arts to please,

And sheds his Venome, in such words as these.

Auspicious Prince! at whose Nativity

Some Royal Planet rul'd the Southern sky;

Thy longing Countries Darling and Desire;

Their cloudy Pillar, and their guardian Fire:

Their second Moses, whose extended Wand

Divides the Seas, and shews the promis'd Land:

Whose dawning Day, in every distant age,

Has exercis'd the Sacred Prophets rage:

The Peoples Prayer, the glad Deviners Theam,

The Young-mens Vision, and the Old mens Dream!

Thee, Saviour, Thee, the Nations Vows confess;

And, never satisfi'd with seeing, bless:

Swift, unbespoken Pomps, thy steps proclaim,

And stammerring Babes are taught to lisp thy Name.

How long wilt thou the general Joy detain;

Starve, and defraud the People of thy Reign?

Content ingloriously to pass thy days

Like one of Vertues Fools that feeds on Praise;

Till thy fresh Glories, which now shine so bright,

Grow Stale and Tarnish with our daily sight.

Believe me, Royal Youth, thy Fruit must be,

Or gather'd Ripe, or rot upon the Tree.

Heav'n, has to all allotted, soon or late,

Some lucky Revolution of their Fate:

Whose Motions, if we watch and guide with Skill,

(For humane Good depends on humane Will,)

Our Fortune rolls, as from a smooth Descent,

And, from the first Impression, takes the Bent:

But, if unseiz'd, she glides away like wind;

And leaves repenting Folly far behind.

Now, now she meets you, with a glorious prize,

And spreads her Locks before her as she flies.

Had thus Old David, from whose Loyns you spring,

Not dar'd, when Fortune call'd him, to be King,

At Gath an Exile he might still remain,

And heavens Anointing Oyle had been in vain.

Let his successfull Youth your hopes engage,

But shun th' example of Declining Age:

Behold him setting in his Western Skies,

The Shadows lengthning as the Vapours rise.

He is not now, as when on Jordan's Sand

The Joyfull People throng'd to see him Land,

Cov'ring the Beach, and blackning all the Strand:

But, like the Prince of Angels from his height,

Comes tumbling downward with diminish'd light;

Betray'd by one poor Plot to publick Scorn,

(Our only blessing since his Curst Return:)

Those heaps of People which one Sheaf did bind,

Blown off and scatter'd by a puff of Wind.

What strength can he to your Designs oppose,

Naked of Friends, and round beset with Foes?

If Pharaoh's doubtfull Succour he shoud use,

A Foreign Aid woud more Incense the Jews:

Proud Egypt woud dissembled Friendship bring;

Foment the War, but not support the King:

Nor woud the Royal Party e'r unite

With Pharaoh's Arms, t' assist the Jebusite;

Or if they shoud, their Interest soon woud break,

And with such odious Aid make David weak.

All sorts of men by my successful Arts,

Abhorring Kings, estrange their alter'd Hearts

From David's Rule: And 'tis the general Cry,

Religion, Common-wealth, and Liberty.

If you as Champion of the publique Good,

Add to their Arms a Chief of Royal Blood;

What may not Israel hope, and what Applause

Might such a General gain by such a Cause?

Not barren Praise alone, that Gaudy Flower,

Fair only to the sight, but solid Power:

And Nobler is a limited Command,

Giv'n by the Love of all your Native Land,

Than a Successive Title, Long, and Dark,

Drawn from the Mouldy Rolls of Noah's Ark.

What cannot Praise effect in Mighty Minds,

When Flattery Sooths, and when Ambition Blinds!

Desire of Power, on Earth a Vitious Weed,

Yet, sprung from High, is of Cælestial Seed:

In God 'tis Glory: And when men Aspire,

'Tis but a Spark too much of Heavenly Fire.

Th' Ambitious Youth, too Covetous of Fame,

Too full of Angells Metal in his Frame;

Unwarily was led from Vertues ways;

Made Drunk with Honour, and Debauch'd with Praise.

Half loath, and half consenting to the Ill,

(For Royal Blood within him strugled still)

He thus reply'd – And what Pretence have I

To take up Arms for Publick Liberty?

My Father Governs with unquestion'd Right;

The Faiths Defender, and Mankinds Delight:

Good, Gracious, Just, observant of the Laws;

And Heav'n by Wonders has Espous'd his Cause.

Whom has he Wrong'd in all his Peaceful Reign?

Who sues for Justice to his Throne in Vain?

What Millions has he Pardon'd of his Foes,

Whom Just Revenge did to his Wrath expose!

Mild, Easy, Humble, Studious of our Good;

Enclin'd to Mercy, and averse from Blood.

If Mildness Ill with Stubborn Israel Suite,

His Crime is God's beloved Attribute.

What could he gain, his People to Betray,

Or change his Right, for Arbitrary Sway?

Let Haughty Pharaoh Curse with such a Reign,

His Fruitfull Nile, and Yoak a Servile Train.

If David's Rule Jerusalem Displease,

The Dog-star heats their Brains to this Disease.

Why then shoud I, Encouraging the Bad,

Turn Rebell, and run Popularly Mad?

Were he a Tyrant who, by Lawless Might,

Opprest the Jews, and Rais'd the Jebusite,

Well might I Mourn; but Natures Holy Bands

Woud Curb my Spirits, and Restrain my Hands:

The People might assert their Liberty;

But what was Right in them, were Crime in me.

His Favour leaves me nothing to require;

Prevents my Wishes, and outruns Desire.

What more can I expect while David lives?

All but his Kingly Diadem he gives;

And that: But there he Paus'd; then Sighing, said,

Is Justly Destin'd for a Worthier Head.

For when my Father from his Toyls shall Rest,

And late Augment the Number of the Blest:

His Lawfull Issue shall the Throne ascend,

Or the Collateral Line where that shall end.

His Brother, though Opprest with Vulgar Spight,

Yet Dauntless and Secure of Native Right,

Of every Royal Vertue stands possest;

Still Dear to all the Bravest, and the Best.

His Courage Foes, his Friends his Truth Proclaim;

His Loyalty the King, the World his Fame.

His Mercy even th' Offending Crowd will find,

For sure he comes of a Forgiving Kind.

Why shoud I then Repine at Heavens Decree;

Which gives me no Pretence to Royalty?

Yet oh that Fate Propitiously Enclind,

Had rais'd my Birth, or had debas'd my Mind;

To my large Soul, not all her Treasure lent,

And then Betray'd it to a mean Descent.

I find, I find my mounting Spirits Bold,

And David's Part disdains my Mothers Mold.

Why am I Scanted by a Niggard Birth?

My Soul Disclaims the Kindred of her Earth:

And made for Empire, Whispers me within;

Desire of Greatness is a Godlike Sin.

Him Staggering so when Hells dire Agent found,

While fainting Vertue scarce maintain'd her Ground,

He pours fresh Forces in, and thus Replies:

Th' Eternal God Supreamly Good and Wise,

Imparts not these Prodigious Gifts in vain;

What Wonders are Reserv'd to bless your Reign?

Against your will your Arguments have shown,

Such Vertue's only given to guide a Throne.

Not that your Father's Mildness I condemn;

But Manly Force becomes the Diadem.

'Tis true, he grants the People all they crave;

And more perhaps than Subjects ought to have:

For Lavish grants suppose a Monarch tame,

And more his Goodness than his Wit proclaim.

But when shoud People strive their Bonds to break,

If not when Kings are Negligent or Weak?

Let him give on till he can give no more,

The Thrifty Sanhedrin shall keep him poor:

And every Sheckle which he can receive,

Shall cost a Limb of his Prerogative.

To ply him with new Plots, shall be my care,

Or plunge him deep in some Expensive War;

Which when his Treasure can no more Supply,

He must, with the Remains of Kingship, buy.

His faithful Friends, our Jealousies and Fears,

Call Jebusites; and Pharaoh's Pentioners:

Whom, when our Fury from his Aid has torn,

He shall be Naked left to publick Scorn.

The next Successor, whom I fear and hate,

My Arts have made Obnoxious to the State;

Turn'd all his Vertues to his Overthrow,

And gain'd our Elders to pronounce a Foe.

His Right, for Sums of necessary Gold,

Shall first be Pawn'd, and afterwards be Sold:

Till time shall Ever-wanting David draw,

To pass your doubtfull Title into Law:

If not; the People have a Right Supreme

To make their Kings; for Kings are made for them.

All Empire is no more than Pow'r in Trust,

Which when resum'd, can be no longer Just.

Succession, for the general Good design'd,

In its own wrong a Nation cannot bind:

If altering that, the People can relieve,

Better one Suffer, than a Nation grieve.

The Jews well know their power: e'r Saul they Chose,

God was their King, and God they durst Depose.

Urge now your Piety, your Filial Name,

A Father's Right, and fear of future Fame;

The publick Good, that Universal Call,

To which even Heav'n Submitted, answers all.

Nor let his Love Enchant your generous Mind;

'Tis Natures trick to Propagate her Kind.

Our fond Begetters, who woud never dye,

Love but themselves in their Posterity.

Or let his Kindness by th' Effects be try'd,

Or let him lay his vain Pretence aside.

God said he lov'd your Father; coud he bring

A better Proof, than to Anoint him King?

It surely shew'd he lov'd the Shepherd well,

Who gave so fair a Flock as Israel.

Woud David have you thought his Darling Son?

What means he then, to Alienate the Crown?

The name of Godly he may blush to bear:

'Tis after God's own heart to Cheat his Heir.

He to his Brother gives Supreme Command;

To you a Legacy of Barren Land:

Perhaps th' old Harp, on which he thrums his Layes:

Or some dull Hebrew Ballad in your Praise.

Then the next Heir, a Prince, Severe and Wise,

Already looks on you with Jealous Eyes;

Sees through the thin Disguises of your Arts,

And markes your Progress in the Peoples Hearts.

Though now his mighty Soul its Grief contains;

He meditates Revenge who least Complains,

And like a Lyon, Slumbring in the way,

Or Sleep dissembling, while he waits his Prey,

His fearless Foes within his Distance draws;

Constrains his Roaring, and Contracts his Paws;

Till at the last, his time for Fury found,

He shoots with suddain Vengeance from the Ground:

The Prostrate Vulgar, passes o'r, and Spares;

But with a Lordly Rage, his Hunters teares.

Your Case no tame Expedients will afford;

Resolve on Death, or Conquest by the Sword,

Which for no less a Stake than Life, you Draw;

And Self-defence is Natures Eldest Law.

Leave the warm People no Considering time;

For then Rebellion may be thought a Crime.

Prevail your self of what Occasion gives,

But try your Title while your Father lives:

And that your Arms may have a fair Pretence,

Proclaim, you take them in the King's Defence:

Whose Sacred Life each minute woud Expose,

To Plots, from seeming Friends, and secret Foes.

And who can sound the depth of David's Soul?

Perhaps his fear, his kindness may Controul.

He fears his Brother, though he loves his Son,

For plighted Vows too late to be undone.

If so, by Force he wishes to be gain'd,

Like womens Leachery, to seem Constrain'd:

Doubt not, but when he most affects the Frown,

Commit a pleasing Rape upon the Crown.

Secure his Person to secure your Cause;

They who possess the Prince, possess the Laws.

He said, And this Advice above the rest,

With Absalom's Mild nature suited best;

Unblam'd of Life (Ambition set aside,)

Not stain'd with Cruelty, nor puft with Pride;

How happy had he been, if Destiny

Had higher plac'd his Birth, or not so high!

His Kingly Vertues might have claim'd a Throne,

And blest all other Countries but his own:

But charming Greatness, since so few refuse;

'Tis Juster to Lament him, than Accuse.

Strong were his hopes a Rival to remove,

With blandishments to gain the publick Love;

To Head the Faction while their Zeal was hot,

And Popularly prosecute the Plot.

To farther this, Achitophel Unites

The Malecontents of all the Israelites;

Whose differing Parties he could wisely Joyn,

For several Ends, to serve the same Design:

The Best, and of the Princes some were such,

Who thought the power of Monarchy too much:

Mistaken Men, and Patriots in their Hearts;

Not Wicked, but Seduc'd by Impious Arts.

By these the Springs of Property were bent,

And wound so high, they Crack'd the Government.

The next for Interest sought t' embroil the State,

To sell their Duty at a dearer rate;

And make their Jewish Markets of the Throne,

Pretending publick Good, to serve their own.

Others thought Kings an useless heavy Load,

Who Cost too much, and did too little Good.

These were for laying Honest David by,

On Principles of pure good Husbandry.

With them Joyn'd all th' Haranguers of the Throng,

That thought to get Preferment by the Tongue.

Who follow next, a double Danger bring,

Not only hating David, but the King,

The Solymæan Rout; well Verst of old,

In Godly Faction, and in Treason bold;

Cowring and Quaking at a Conqueror's Sword,

But Lofty to a Lawfull Prince Restor'd;

Saw with Disdain an Ethnick Plot begun,

And Scorn'd by Jebusites to be Out-done.

Hot Levites Headed these; who pul'd before

From th' Ark, which in the Judges days they bore,

Resum'd their Cant, and with a Zealous Cry,

Pursu'd their old belov'd Theocracy:

Where Sanhedrin and Priest inslav'd the Nation,

And justifi'd their Spoils by Inspiration;

For who so fit for Reign as Aaron's Race,

If once Dominion they could found in Grace?

These led the Pack; tho not of surest scent,

Yet deepest mouth'd against the Government.

A numerous Host of dreaming Saints succeed;

Of the true old Enthusiastick breed:

'Gainst Form and Order they their Power employ;

Nothing to Build and all things to Destroy.

But far more numerous was the herd of such,

Who think too little, and who talk too much.

These, out of meer instinct, they knew not why,

Ador'd their fathers God, and Property:

And, by the same blind benefit of Fate,

The Devil and the Jebusite did hate:

Born to be sav'd, even in their own despight;

Because they could not help believing right.

Such were the tools; but a whole Hydra more

Remains, of sprouting heads too long, to score.

Some of their Chiefs were Princes of the Land:

In the first Rank of these did Zimri stand:

A man so various, that he seem'd to be

Not one, but all Mankinds Epitome.

Stiff in Opinions, always in the wrong;

Was every thing by starts, and nothing long:

But, in the course of one revolving Moon,

Was Chymist, Fidler, States-Man, and Buffoon:

Then all for Women, Painting, Rhiming, Drinking;

Besides ten thousand freaks that dy'd in thinking.

Blest Madman, who coud every hour employ,

With something New to wish, or to enjoy!

Rayling and praising were his usual Theams;

And both (to shew his Judgment) in Extreams:

So over Violent, or over Civil,

That every man, with him, was God or Devil.

In squandring Wealth was his peculiar Art:

Nothing went unrewarded, but Desert.

Begger'd by Fools, whom still he found too late:

He had his Jest, and they had his Estate.

He laught himself from Court, then sought Releif

By forming Parties, but coud ne're be Chief:

For, spight of him, the weight of Business fell

On Absalom and wise Achitophel:

Thus, wicked but in will, of means bereft,

He left not Faction, but of that was left.

Titles and Names 'twere tedious to Reherse

Of Lords, below the Dignity of Verse.

Wits, warriors, Common-wealthsmen, were the best:

Kind Husbands and meer Nobles all the rest.

And, therefore in the name of Dulness, be

The well hung Balaam and cold Caleb free.

And Canting Nadab let Oblivion damn,

Who made new porridge for the Paschal Lamb.

Let Friendships holy band some Names assure:

Some their own Worth, and some let Scorn secure.

Nor shall the Rascall Rabble here have Place,

Whom Kings no Titles gave, and God no Grace:

Not Bull-fac'd Jonas, who could Statutes draw

To mean Rebellion, and make Treason Law.

But he, tho bad, is follow'd by a worse,

The wretch, who Heavens Annointed dar'd to Curse.

Shimei, whose Youth did early Promise bring

Of Zeal to God, and Hatred to his King;

Did wisely from Expensive Sins refrain,

And never broke the Sabbath, but for Gain:

Nor ever was he known an Oath to vent,

Or Curse unless against the Government.

Thus, heaping Wealth, by the most ready way

Among the Jews, which was to Cheat and Pray;

The City, to reward his pious Hate

Against his Master, chose him Magistrate:

His Hand a Vare of Justice did uphold;

His Neck was loaded with a Chain of Gold.

During his Office, Treason was no Crime;

The Sons of Belial had a glorious Time:

For Shimei, though not prodigal of pelf,

Yet lov'd his wicked Neighbour as himself:

When two or three were gather'd to declaim

Against the Monarch of Jerusalem,

Shimei was always in the midst of them:

And, if they Curst the King when he was by,

Woud rather Curse, than break good Company.

If any durst his Factious Friends accuse,

He pact a Jury of dissenting Jews:

Whose fellow-feeling, in the godly Cause,

Would free the suffring Saint from Humane Laws.

For Laws are only made to Punish those,

Who serve the King, and to protect his Foes.

If any leisure time he had from Power,

(Because 'tis Sin to misimploy an hour;)

His business was, by Writing, to Persuade,

That Kings were Useless, and a Clog to Trade:

And, that his noble Stile he might refine,

No Rechabite more shund the fumes of Wine.

Chast were his Cellars, and his Shrieval Board

The Grossness of a City Feast abhor'd:

His Cooks, with long disuse, their Trade forgot;

Cool was his Kitchen, tho his Brains were hot.

Such frugal Vertue Malice may accuse,

But sure 'twas necessary to the Jews:

For Towns once burnt, such Magistrates require

As dare not tempt Gods Providence by fire.

With Spiritual food he fed his Servants well,

But free from flesh, that made the Jews Rebel:

And Moses's Laws he held in more account,

For forty days of Fasting in the Mount.

To speak the rest, who better are forgot,

Would tyre a well breath'd Witness of the Plot:

Yet, Corah, thou shalt from Oblivion pass;

Erect thy self thou Monumental Brass:

High as the Serpent of thy mettall made,

While Nations stand secure beneath thy shade.

What tho his Birth were base, yet Comets rise

From Earthy Vapours ere they shine in Skies.

Prodigious Actions may as well be done

By Weavers issue, as by Princes Son.

This Arch-Attestor for the Publick Good,

By that one Deed Enobles all his Bloud.

Who ever ask'd the Witnesses high race,

Whose Oath with Martyrdom did Stephen grace?

Ours was a Levite, and as times went then,

His Tribe were Godalmightys Gentlemen.

Sunk were his Eyes, his Voyce was harsh and loud,

Sure signs he neither Cholerick was, nor Proud:

His long Chin prov'd his Wit; his Saintlike Grace

A Church Vermilion, and a Moses's Face;

His Memory, miraculously great,

Could Plots, exceeding mans belief, repeat;

Which, therefore cannot be accounted Lies,

For humane Wit could never such devise.

Some future Truths are mingled in his Book;

But, where the witness faild, the Prophet Spoke:

Some things like Visionary flights appear;

The Spirit caught him up, the Lord knows where:

And gave him his Rabinical degree

Unknown to Foreign University.

His Judgment yet his Memory did excel;

Which peic'd his wondrous Evidence so well:

And suited to the temper of the times;

Then groaning under Jebusitick Crimes.

Let Israels foes suspect his heav'nly call,

And rashly judge his writ Apocryphal;

Our Laws for such affronts have forfeits made:

He takes his life, who takes away his trade.

Were I my self in witness Corahs place,

The wretch who did me such a dire disgrace,

Should whet my memory, though once forgot,

To make him an Appendix of my Plot.

His Zeal to heav'n, made him his Prince despise,

And load his person with indignities:

But Zeal peculiar priviledg affords;

Indulging latitude to deeds and words.

And Corah might for Agag's murther call,

In terms as course as Samuel us'd to Saul.

What others in his Evidence did Joyn,

(The best that could be had for love or coyn,)

In Corah's own predicament will fall:

For witness is a Common Name to all.

Surrounded thus with Freinds of every sort,

Deluded Absalom, forsakes the Court:

Impatient of high hopes, urg'd with renown,

And Fir'd with near possession of a Crown:

Th' admiring Croud are dazled with surprize,

And on his goodly person feed their eyes:

His Joy conceal'd, he sets himself to show;

On each side bowing popularly low:

His looks, his gestures, and his words he frames,

And with familiar ease repeats their Names.

Thus, form'd by Nature, furnish'd out with Arts,

He glides unfelt into their secret hearts:

Then with a kind compassionating look,

And sighs, bespeaking pity ere he spoak,

Few words he said; but easy those and fit:

More slow than Hybla drops, and far more sweet.

I mourn, my Countrymen, your lost Estate;

Tho far unable to prevent your fate:

Behold a Banisht man, for your dear cause

Expos'd a prey to Arbitrary laws!

Yet oh! that I alone cou'd be undone,

Cut off from Empire, and no more a Son!

Now all your Liberties a spoil are made;

Ægypt and Tyrus intercept your Trade,

And Jebusites your Sacred Rites invade.

My Father, whom with reverence yet I name,

Charm'd into Ease, is careless of his Fame:

And, brib'd with petty summs of Forreign Gold,

Is grown in Bathsheba's Embraces old:

Exalts his Enemies, his Freinds destroys:

And all his pow'r against himself employs.

He gives, and let him give my right away:

But why should he his own, and yours betray?

He only, he can make the Nation bleed,

And he alone from my revenge is freed.

Take then my tears (with that he wip'd his Eyes)

'Tis all the Aid my present power supplies:

No Court Informer can these Arms accuse,

These Arms may Sons against their Fathers use,

And, tis my wish, the next Successors Reign

May make no other Israelite complain.

Youth, Beauty, Graceful Action, seldom fail:

But Common Interest always will prevail:

And pity never Ceases to be shown

To him, who makes the peoples wrongs his own.

The Croud, (that still believe their Kings oppress)

With lifted hands their young Messiah bless:

Who now begins his Progress to ordain;

With Chariots, Horsemen, and a numerous train:

From East to West his Glories he displaies:

And, like the Sun, the promis'd land survays.

Fame runs before him, as the morning Star;

And shouts of Joy salute him from afar:

Each house receives him as a Guardian God;

And Consecrates the Place of his aboad:

But hospitable treats did most Commend

Wise Issachar, his wealthy western friend.

This moving Court, that caught the peoples Eyes,

And seem'd but Pomp, did other ends disguise:

Achitophel had form'd it, with intent

To sound the depths, and fathom where it went,

The Peoples hearts; distinguish Friends from Foes;

And try their strength, before they came to blows:

Yet all was colour'd with a smooth pretence

Of specious love, and duty to their Prince.

Religion, and Redress of Grievances,

Two names, that always cheat and always please,

Are often urg'd; and good King David's life

Indanger'd by a Brother and a Wife.

Thus, in a Pageant Show, a Plot is made;

And Peace it self is War in Masquerade.

Oh foolish Israel! never warn'd by ill,

Still the same baite, and circumvented still!

Did ever men forsake their present ease,

In midst of health Imagine a desease;

Take pains Contingent mischiefs to foresee,

Make Heirs for Monarks, and for God decree?

What shall we think! can People give away

Both for themselves and Sons, their Native sway?

Then they are left Defensless, to the Sword

Of each unbounded Arbitrary Lord:

And Laws are vain, by which we Right enjoy,

If Kings unquestiond can those laws destroy.

Yet, if the Crowd be Judge of fit and Just,

And Kings are onely Officers in trust,

Then this resuming Cov'nant was declar'd

When Kings were made, or is for ever bar'd:

If those who gave the Scepter, coud not tye

By their own deed their own Posterity,

How then coud Adam bind his future Race?

How coud his forfeit on mankind take place?

Or how coud heavenly Justice damn us all,

Who nere consented to our Fathers fall?

Then Kings are slaves to those whom they Command,

And Tenants to their Peoples pleasure stand.

Add, that the Pow'r for Property allowd,

Is mischeivously seated in the Crowd:

For who can be secure of private Right,

If Sovereign sway may be dissolv'd by might?

Nor is the Peoples Judgment always true:

The most may err as grosly as the few,

And faultless Kings run down, by Common Cry,

For Vice, Oppression, and for Tyranny.

What Standard is there in a fickle rout,

Which, flowing to the mark, runs faster out?

Nor only Crowds, but Sanhedrins may be

Infected with this publick Lunacy:

And Share the madness of Rebellious times,

To Murther Monarchs for Imagin'd crimes.

If they may Give and Take when e'r they please,

Not Kings alone, (the Godheads Images,)

But Government it self at length must fall

To Natures state; where all have Right to all.

Yet, grant our Lords the People Kings can make,

What Prudent men a setled Throne woud shake?

For whatsoe'r their Sufferings were before,

That Change they Covet makes them suffer more.

All other Errors but disturb a State;

But Innovation is the Blow of Fate.

If ancient Fabricks nod, and threat to fall,

To Patch the Flaws, and Buttress up the Wall,

Thus far 'tis Duty; but here fix the Mark:

For all beyond it is to touch our Ark.

To change Foundations, cast the Frame anew,

Is work for Rebels who base Ends pursue:

At once Divine and Humane Laws controul;

And mend the Parts by ruine of the Whole.

The Tampering World is subject to this Curse,

To Physick their Disease into a worse.

Now what Relief can Righteous David bring?

How Fatall 'tis to be too good a King!

Friends he has few, so high the Madness grows;

Who dare be such, must be the Peoples Foes:

Yet some there were, ev'n in the worst of days;

Some let me name, and Naming is to praise.

In this short File Barzillai first appears;

Barzillai crown'd with Honour and with Years:

Long since, the rising Rebells he withstood

In Regions Waste, beyond the Jordans Flood:

Unfortunately Brave to buoy the State;

But sinking underneath his Masters Fate:

In Exile with his Godlike Prince he Mourn'd;

For him he Suffer'd, and with him Return'd.

The Court he practis'd, not the Courtier's art:

Large was his Wealth, but larger was his Heart:

Which, well the Noblest Objects knew to choose,

The Fighting Warriour, and Recording Muse.

His Bed coud once a Fruitfull Issue boast:

Now more than half a Father's Name is lost:

His Eldest Hope, with every Grace adorn'd,

By me (so Heav'n will have it) always Mourn'd,

And always honour'd, snatcht in Manhoods prime

By' unequal Fates, and Providences crime:

Yet not before the Goal of Honour won,

All parts fulfill'd of Subject and of Son;

Swift was the Race, but short the Time to run.

Oh Narrow Circle, but of Pow'r Divine,

Scanted in Space, but perfect in thy Line!

By Sea, by Land, thy Matchless Worth was known;

Arms thy Delight, and War was all thy Own:

Thy force, Infus'd, the fainting Tyrians prop'd:

And Haughty Pharaoh found his Fortune stop'd.

Oh Ancient Honour, Oh Unconquer'd Hand,

Whom Foes unpunish'd never coud withstand!

But Israel was unworthy of thy Name;

Short is the date of all Immoderate Fame.

It looks as Heaven our Ruine had design'd,

And durst not trust thy Fortune and thy Mind.

Now, free from Earth, thy disencumbred Soul

Mounts up, and leaves behind the Clouds and Starry Pole:

From thence thy kindred legions mayst thou bring

To aid the guardian Angel of thy King.

Here stop my Muse, here cease thy painfull flight;

No Pinions can pursue Immortal height:

Tell good Barzillai thou canst sing no more,

And tell thy Soul she should have fled before;

Or fled she with his life, and left this Verse

To hang on her departed Patron's Herse?

Now take thy steepy flight from heaven, and see

If thou canst find on earth another He,

Another he would be too hard to find,

See then whom thou canst see not far behind:

Zadock the Priest, whom, shunning Power and Place,

His lowly mind advanc'd to David's Grace:

With him the Sagan of Jerusalem,

Of hospitable Soul and noble Stem;

Him of the Western dome, whose weighty sense

Flows in fit words and heavenly eloquence.

The Prophets Sons by such example led,

To Learning and to Loyalty were bred:

For Colleges on bounteous Kings depend,

And never Rebell was to Arts a friend.

To these succeed the Pillars of the Laws,

Who best cou'd plead and best can judge a Cause.

Next them a train of Loyal Peers ascend:

Sharp judging Adriel the Muses friend,

Himself a Muse – In Sanhedrins debate

True to his Prince; but not a Slave of State:

Whom David's love with Honours did adorn,

That from his disobedient Son were torn.

Jotham of piercing wit and pregnant thought,

Indew'd by nature, and by learning taught

To move Assemblies, who but onely try'd

The worse awhile, then chose the better side;

Nor chose alone, but turn'd the balance too;

So much the weight of one brave man can doe.

Hushai the friend of David in distress,

In publick storms of manly stedfastness;

By foreign treaties he inform'd his Youth;

And join'd experience to his native truth.

His frugal care supply'd the wanting Throne,

Frugal for that, but bounteous of his own:

'Tis easy conduct when Exchequers flow,

But hard the task to manage well the low:

For Soveraign power is too deprest or high,

When Kings are forc'd to sell, or Crowds to buy.

Indulge one labour more my weary Muse,

For Amiel, who can Amiel's praise refuse?

Of ancient race by birth, but nobler yet

In his own worth, and without Title great:

The Sanhedrin long time as chief he rul'd,

Their Reason guided and their Passion coold;

So dexterous was he in the Crown's defence,

So form'd to speak a Loyal Nation's Sense,

That as their band was Israel's Tribes in small,

So fit was he to represent them all.

Now rasher Charioteers the Seat ascend,

Whose loose Carriers his steady Skill commend:

They like th' unequal Ruler of the Day,

Misguide the Seasons and mistake the Way;

While he withdrawn at their mad Labour smiles,

And safe enjoys the Sabbath of his Toyls.

These were the chief, a small but faithful Band

Of Worthies, in the Breach who dar'd to stand,

And tempt th' united Fury of the Land.

With grief they view'd such powerful Engines bent,

To batter down the lawful Government:

A numerous Faction with pretended frights,

In Sanhedrins to plume the Regal Rights:

The true Successour from the Court remov'd:

The Plot, by hireling Witnesses improv'd.

These Ills they saw, and as their Duty bound,

They shew'd the King the danger of the Wound:

That no Concessions from the Throne woud please,

But Lenitives fomented the Disease:

That Absalom, ambitious of the Crown,

Was made the Lure to draw the People down:

That false Achitophel's pernitious Hate,

Had turn'd the Plot to Ruine Church and State:

The Councill violent, the Rabble worse:

That Shimei taught Jerusalem to Curse.

With all these loads of Injuries opprest,

And long revolving, in his carefull Breast,

Th' event of things; at last his patience tir'd,

Thus from his Royal Throne by Heav'n inspir'd,

The God-like David spoke: with awfull fear

His Train their Maker in their Master hear.

Thus long have I, by native mercy sway'd,

My wrongs dissembl'd, my revenge delay'd:

So willing to forgive th' Offending Age,

So much the Father did the King asswage.

But now so far my Clemency they slight,

Th' Offenders question my Forgiving Right.

That one was made for many, they contend:

But 'tis to Rule, for that's a Monarch's End.

They call my tenderness of Blood, my Fear:

Though Manly tempers can the longest bear.

Yet, since they will divert my Native course,

'Tis time to shew I am not Good by Force.

Those heap'd Affronts that haughty Subjects bring,

Are burthens for a Camel, not a King:

Kings are the publick Pillars of the State,

Born to sustain and prop the Nations weight:

If my Young Samson will pretend a Call

To shake the Column, let him share the Fall:

But oh that yet he woud repent and live!

How easie 'tis for Parents to forgive!

With how few Tears a Pardon might be won

From Nature, pleading for a Darling Son!

Poor pitied Youth, by my Paternal care,

Rais'd up to all the Height his Frame coud bear:

Had God ordain'd his fate for Empire born,

He woud have given his Soul another turn:

Gull'd with a Patriots name, whose Modern sense

Is one that would by Law supplant his Prince:

The Peoples Brave, the Politicians Tool;

Never was Patriot yet, but was a Fool.

Whence comes it that Religion and the Laws

Should more be Absalom's than David's Cause?

His old Instructor, e're he lost his Place,

Was never thought indu'd with so much Grace.

Good Heav'ns, how Faction can a Patriot Paint!

My Rebel ever proves my Peoples Saint:

Would They impose an Heir upon the Throne?

Let Sanhedrins be taught to give their Own.

A King's at least a part of Government,

And mine as requisite as their Consent:

Without my Leave a future King to choose,

Infers a Right the Present to Depose:

True, they Petition me t' approve their Choise,

But Esau's Hands suite ill with Jacob's Voice.

My Pious Subjects for my Safety pray,

Which to Secure they take my Power away.

From Plots and Treasons Heaven preserve my years,

But Save me most from my Petitioners.

Unsatiate as the barren Womb or Grave;

God cannot Grant so much as they can Crave.

What then is left but with a Jealous Eye

To guard the Small remains of Royalty?

The Law shall still direct my peacefull Sway,

And the same Law teach Rebels to Obey:

Votes shall no more Establish'd Pow'r controul,

Such Votes as make a Part exceed the Whole:

No groundless Clamours shall my Friends remove,

Nor Crowds have power to Punish e're they Prove:

For Gods, and Godlike Kings their Care express,

Still to Defend their Servants in distress.

Oh that my Power to Saving were confin'd:

Why am I forc'd, like Heaven, against my mind,

To make Examples of another Kind?

Must I at length the Sword of Justice draw?

Oh curst Effects of necessary Law!

How ill my Fear they by my Mercy scan,

Beware the Fury of a Patient Man.

Law they require, let Law then shew her Face;

They coud not be content to look on Grace,

Her hinder parts, but with a daring Eye

To tempt the terror of her Front, and Dye.

By their own arts 'tis Righteously decreed,

Those dire Artificers of Death shall bleed.

Against themselves their Witnesses will Swear,

Till Viper-like their Mother Plot they tear:

And suck for Nutriment that bloody gore

Which was their Principle of Life before.

Their Belial with their Belzebub will fight;

Thus on my Foes, my Foes shall do me Right:

Nor doubt th' event: for Factious crowds engage

In their first Onset, all their Brutal Rage;

Then, let 'em take an unresisted Course,

Retire and Traverse, and Delude their Force:

But when they stand all Breathless, urge the fight,

And rise upon 'em with redoubled might:

For Lawfull Pow'r is still Superiour found,

When long driven back, at length it stands the ground.

He said. Th' Almighty, nodding, gave Consent;

And Peals of Thunder shook the Firmament.

Henceforth a Series of new time began,

The mighty Years in long Procession ran:

Once more the Godlike David was Restor'd,

And willing Nations knew their Lawfull Lord.

The Second Part of Absalom and Achitophel

– Si Quis tamen Hæc quoque, Si Quis

Captus Amore Leget –

Since Men like Beasts, each others Prey were made,

Since Trade began, and Priesthood grew a Trade,

Since Realms were form'd, none sure so curst as those

That madly their own Happiness oppose;

There Heaven it self, and Godlike Kings, in vain

Showr down the Manna of a gentle Reign;

While pamper'd Crowds to mad Sedition run,

And Monarchs by Indulgence are undone.

Thus David's Clemency was fatal grown,

While wealthy Faction aw'd the wanting Throne.

For now their Sov'reigns Orders to contemn

Was held the Charter of Jerusalem,

His Rights t' invade, his Tributes to refuse,

A Privilege peculiar to the Jews;

As if from Heav'nly Call this Licence fell,

And Jacob's Seed were chosen to rebell!

Achitophel with triumph sees his Crimes

Thus suited to the madness of the Times;

And Absalom, to make his hopes succeed,

Of Flattering Charms no longer stands in need;

While fond of Change, though ne'er so dearly bought,

Our Tribes out-strip the Youth's Ambitious Thought;

His swiftest Hopes with swifter Homage meet,

And crowd their servile Necks beneath his Feet.

Thus to his aid while pressing Tides repair,

He mounts and spreads his Streamers in the Air.

The Charms of Empire might his Youth mis-lead,

But what can our besotted Israel plead?

Sway'd by a Monarch whose serene Command,

Seems half the Blessing of our promis'd Land:

Whose onely Grievance is excess of Ease,

Freedome our Pain, and Plenty our Disease!

Yet, as all Folly wou'd lay claim to Sense,

And Wickedness ne'er wanted a Pretence,

With Arguments they'd make their Treason good,

And righteous David's self with Slanders load:

That Arts of foreign Sway he did affect,

And guilty Jebusites from Law protect,

Whose very Chiefs, convict, were never freed,

Nay, we have seen their Sacrificers bleed!

Accusers Infamy is urg'd in vain,

While in the bounds of Sense they did contain,

But soon they launcht into th' unfathom'd Tide,

And in the Depths they knew disdain'd to Ride,

For probable Discoveries to dispence,

Was thought below a pention'd Evidence;

Mere Truth was dull, nor suited with the port

Of pamper'd Corah, when advanc't to Court.

No less than Wonders now they will impose,

And Projects void of Grace or Sense disclose.

Such was the Charge on pious Michal brought,

Michal that ne'er was cruel e'en in thought,

The best of Queens, and most obedient Wife,

Impeach'd of curst Designs on David's Life!

His Life, the Theam of her eternal Pray'r,

'Tis scarce so much his Guardian Angels Care.

Not Summer Morns such Mildness can disclose,

The Hermon Lilly, nor the Sharon Rose.

Neglecting each vain Pomp of Majesty,

Transported Michal feeds her thoughts on high.

She lives with Angels, and as Angels do,

Quits Heav'n sometimes to bless the World below:

Where cherisht by her Bounties plenteous Spring,

Reviving Widows smile, and Orphans sing.

Oh! when rebellious Israel's Crimes at height,

Are threatned with her Lord's approaching Fate,

The Piety of Michal then remain

In Heav'ns Remembrance, and prolong his Reign.

Less Desolation did the Pest persue,

That from Dan's limits to Beersheba slew,

Less fatal the repeated Wars of Tyre,

And less Jerusalem's, avenging Fire.

With gentler terrour these our State o'erran,

Than since our Evidencing Days began!

On every Cheek a pale Confusion sat,

Continu'd Fear beyond the worst of Fate!

Trust was no more, Art, Science useless made,

All occupations lost but Corah's Trade.

Mean while a Guard on modest Corah wait,

If not for safety needfull yet for State.

Well might he deem each Peer and Prince his Slave:

And Lord it o'er the Tribes which he could save:

E'en Vice in him was Vertue –– what sad Fate

But for his Honesty had seiz'd our State?

And with what Tyranny had we been curst,

Had Corah never prov'd a Villain first?

T' have told his knowledge of th' Intrigue in gross

Had been alas to our Deponent's loss:

The travell'd Levite had th' Experience got,

To husband well, and make the best of 's Plot;

And therefore like an Evidence of skill,

With wise Reserves secur'd his Pension still;

Nor quite of future Pow'r himself bereft,

But Limbo's large for unbelievers left.

And now his Writ such Reverence had got,

'Twas worse than Plotting to suspect his Plot.

Some were so well convinc't, they made no doubt,

Themselves to help the founder'd Swearers out.

Some had their Sense impos'd on by their Fear,

But more for Int'rest sake believe and swear:

E'en to that height with some the Frenzy grew,

They rag'd to find their danger not prove true.

Yet, than all these a viler Crew remain,

Who with Achitophel the Cry maintain;

Not urg'd by Fear, nor through misguided Sense,

(Blind Zeal, and starving Need had some pretence)

But for the Good Old Cause that did excite

Th' Original Rebells Wiles, Revenge and Spight.

These raise the Plot to have the Scandal thrown

Upon the bright Successor of the Crown,

Whose Vertue with such wrongs they had persu'd,

As seem'd all hope of pardon to exclude.

Thus, while on private Ends their Zeal is built

The cheated Crowd applaud and share their Guilt.

Such Practices as These, too gross to lye

Long unobserv'd by each discerning Eye,

The more judicious Israelites Unspell'd,

Though still the Charm the giddy Rabble held.

Ev'n Absalom amidst the dazling Beams

Of Empire, and Ambitions flattering Dreams,

Perceives the Plot (too foul to be excus'd)

To aid Designs, no less pernicious, us'd:

And (Filial Sense yet striving in his Breast)

Thus to Achitophel his Doubts exprest.

Why are my Thoughts upon a Crown employ'd,

Which once obtain'd, can be but half Enjoy'd?

Not so when Virtue did my Arms require,

And to my Father's Wars I flew Intire.

My Regal Pow'r how will my Foes resent,

When I my Self have scarce my own Consent?

Give me a Son's unblemisht Truth again,

Or quench the Sparks of Duty that remain.

How slight to force a Throne that Legions guard

The Task to me; to prove Unjust how hard!

And if th' imagin'd Guilt thus wound my Thought,

What will it when the tragick Scene is wrought?

Dire War must first be conjur'd from below,

The Realm we'd Rule we first must Overthrow.

And when the Civil Furies are on wing

That blind and undistinguisht Slaughters fling,

Who knows what impious chance may reach the King?

Oh! rather let me Perish in the Strife,

Than have my Crown the Price of David's Life!

Or if the Tempest of the War he stand,

In Peace, some vile officious Villain's hand

His Soul's anointed Temple may invade,

Or, prest by clamorous Crowds, my Self be made

His Murtherer; rebellious Crowds, whose Guilt

Shall dread his vengeance till his Bloud be spilt:

Which if my filial Tenderness oppose,

Since to the Empire by their Arms I rose,

Those very Arms on Me shall be employ'd,

A new Usurper Crown'd, and I Destroy'd:

The same Pretence of Publick Good will hold,

And new Achitophels be found, as bold

To urge the needfull Change, perhaps the Old.

He said. The Statesman with a Smile replies,

(A smile that did his rising Spleen disguise.)

My thoughts presum'd our labours at an End,

And are we still with Conscience to contend?

Whose Want in Kings, as needfull is allow'd,

As 'tis for them to find it in the Crowd.

Far in the doubtfull Passage you are gone,

And onely can be Safe by pressing on.

The Crowns true Heir, a Prince severe, and wise,

Has view'd your Motions long with Jealous Eyes;

Your Persons Charms, your more prevailing Arts,

And mark't your Progress in the Peoples Hearts:

Whose Patience is th' effect of stinted Pow'r,

But treasures Vengeance for the fatal hour.

And if remote the Perill He can bring,

Your Present Danger's greater from the King.

Let not a Parent's name deceive your Sense,

Nor trust the Father in a Jealous Prince!

Your trivial Faults if he could so resent,

To doom you little less than Banishment,

What rage must your Presumption Since inspire?

Against his Orders your Return from Tyre?

Nor onely so, but with a Pomp more high,

And open Court of Popularity,

The Factious Tribes – And this Reproof from Thee?

(The Prince replies) O Statesman's winding Skill,

They first Condemn that first Advis'd the Ill!

Illustrious Youth (return'd Achitophel)

Misconstrue not the Words that mean you well.

The Course you steer I worthy Blame conclude,

But 'tis because you leave it Unpersu'd.

A Monarch's Crown with Fate surrounded lyes,

Who reach, lay hold on Death that miss the Prize.

Did you for this expose your self to Show,

And to the Crowd bow popularly low?

For this your Glorious Progress next ordain,

With Chariots, Horsemen, and a numerous Train,

With Fame before you like the Morning Starr,

And Shouts of Joy saluting from afarr?

Oh from the Heights you've reach't but take a View,

Scarce leading Lucifer cou'd Fall like You!

And must I here my Ship-wrackt Arts bemoan?

Have I for this so oft made Israel groan?

Your single Interest with the Nation weigh'd,

And turn'd the Scale where your Desires were laid?

Ev'n when at Helm a Course so dang'rous mov'd

To Land your Hopes, as my Removal prov'd?

I not dispute (the Royal youth replyes)

The known Perfection of your Policies,

Nor in Achitophel yet grudge, or blame,

The Priviledge that Statesmen ever claim;

Who private Interest never yet persu'd,

But still pretended 'twas for Others good:

What Polititian yet e'er scap't his Fate,

Who saving his own Neck not sav'd the State?

From hence on ev'ry hum'rous Wind that veer'd,

With shifted Sayls a sev'ral Course you Steer'd.

What Form of Sway did David e'er persue

That seem'd like Absolute but sprung from You?

Who at your instance quasht each penal Law,

That kept dissenting factious Jews in awe;

And who suspends fixt Laws, may abrogate,

That done, form New, and so enslave the State.

Ev'n Property, whose Champion now you stand,

And seem for this the Idol of the Land,

Did ne'er sustain such Violence before,

As when your Counsel shut the Royal Store;

Advice, that Ruine to whole Tribes procur'd,

But secret kept till your own Banks secur'd.

Recount with this the tripple Cov'nant broke,

And Israel fitted for a Foreign Yoke,

Nor here your Counsels fatal Progress staid,

But sent our levied Pow'rs to Pharaoh's Aid.

Hence Tyre and Israel, low in Ruins laid,

And Egypt once their Scorn, their common Terrour made.

Ev'n yet of such a Season we can dream,

When Royal Rights you made your darling Theam.

For Pow'r unlimited could Reasons draw,

And place Prerogative above the Law;

Which on your fall from Office grew Unjust,

The Laws made King, the King a Slave in Trust:

Whom with State-craft (to Int'rest onely True)

You now Accuse of ills contriv'd by You.

To this Hell's Agent –– Royal Youth fix here,

Let Int'rest be the Star by which I Steer.

Hence to repose your Trust in Me was wise,

Whose Int'rest most in your Advancement lies.

A Tye so firm as always will avail

When Friendship, Nature and Religion fail;

On ours the Safety of the Crowd depends,

Secure the Crowd and we obtain our Ends,

Whom I will cause so far our Guilt to share

Till they are made our Champions by their Fear.

What Opposition can your Rival bring,

While Sanhedrims are Jealous of the King?

His Strength as yet in David's Friendship lies,

And what can David's Self without Supplies?

Who with Exclusive Bills must now Dispence,

Debarr the Heir, or Starve in his Defence:

Conditions which our Elders ne'er will quit,

And David's Justice never can admit.

Or forc't by Wants his Brother to betray,

To your Ambition next he clears the Way;

For if Succession once to Nought they bring,

Their next Advance removes the present King:

Persisting else his Senates to dissolve,

In equal Hazzard shall his Reign involve.

Our Tribes, whom Pharaoh's Pow'r so much Alarms,

Shall rise without their Prince t' oppose his Arms;

Nor boots it on what Cause at first they Joyn,

Their Troops once up, are Tools for our Design.

At least such subtle Covenants shall be made,

Till Peace it self is War in Masquerade.

Associations of Mysterious Sense,

Against, but seeming for the King's Defence:

Ev'n on their Courts of Justice Fetters draw,

And from our Agents Muzzle up their Law.

By which, a Conquest if we fail to make,

'Tis a drawn Game at worst, and we secure our Stake.

He said, and for the dire Success depends

On various Sects, by common Guilt made Friends:

Whose Heads, though ne'er so diff'ring in their Creed,

I' th point of Treason yet were well Agreed.

'Mongst these, Extorting Ishban first appears,

Persu'd b' a meager Troop of Bankrupt Heirs.

Blest Times, when Ishban, He whose Occupation

So long has been to Cheat, Reformes the Nation!

Ishban of Conscience suited to his Trade,

As good a Saint as Usurer e'er made.

Yet Mammon has not so engrost him quite,

But Belial lays as large a Claim of Spight;

Who, for those Pardons from his Prince he draws,

Returns Reproaches, and cries up the Cause.

That Year in which the City he did sway,

He left Rebellion in a hopefull way.

Yet his Ambition once was found so bold,

To offer Talents of Extorted Gold;

Cou'd David's Wants have So been brib'd to shame

And scandalize our Peerage with his Name;

For which, his dear Sedition he'd forswear,

And e'en turn Loyal to be made a Peer.

Next him, let Railing Rabsheka have place,

So full of Zeal He has no need of Grace;

A Saint that can both Flesh and Spirit use,

Alike haunt Conventicles and the Stews:

Of whom the Question difficult appears,

If most i' th' Preachers or the Bawds Arrears.

What Caution cou'd appear too much in Him

That keeps the Treasure of Jerusalem!

Let David's Brother but approach the Town,

Double our Guards, (He cries) We are undone:

Protesting that He dares not Sleep in 's Bed

Lest he shou'd Rise next Morn without his Head.

Next these, a Troop of buisy Spirits press,

Of little Fortunes, and of Conscience Less;

With them the Tribe, whose Luxury had drain'd

Their Banks, in former Sequestrations gaind:

Who Rich and Great by past Rebellions grew,

And long to fish the troubled Streams anew.

Some future Hopes, some present Payment draws,

To Sell their Conscience and espouse the Cause,

Such Stipends those vile Hirelings best befit,

Priests without Grace, and Poets without Wit.

Shall that false Hebronite escape our Curse,

Judas that keeps the Rebells Pension-Purse;

Judas that pays the Treason-writers Fee,

Judas that well deserves his Namesake's Tree;

Who at Jerusalem's own Gates Erects

His College for a Nursery of Sects:

Young Prophets with an early Care secures,

And with the Dung of his own Arts manures?

What have the Men of Hebron here to doe?

What part in Israel's promis'd Land have you?

Here Phaleg the Lay Hebronite is come,

'Cause like the rest he could not live at Home;

Who from his own Possessions cou'd not drain

An Omer even of Hebronitish Grain,

Here Struts it like a Patriot, and talks high

Of Injur'd Subjects, alter'd Property:

An Emblem of that buzzing Insect Just,

That mounts the Wheell, and thinks she raises Dust.

Can dry Bones Live? or Skeletons produce

The Vital Warmth of Cuckoldizing Juice?

Slim Phaleg cou'd, and at the Table fed,

Return'd the gratefull product to the Bed.

A Waiting-man to Trav'ling Nobles chose,

He, his own Laws, wou'd Sawcily impose;

Till Bastinado'd back again he went,

To Learn those Manners he to Teach was sent.

Chastiz'd, he ought to have retreated Home,

But He reads Politicks to Absalom.

For never Hebronite though Kickt and Scorn'd,

To his own Country willingly return'd.

– But leaving famish'd Phaleg to be fed,

And to talk Treason for his daily Bread,

Let Hebron, nay let Hell produce a Man

So made for Mischief as Ben-Jochanan,

A Jew of Humble Parentage was He,

By Trade a Levite though of low Degree:

His Pride no higher than the Desk aspir'd,

But for the Drudgery of Priests was hir'd

To Reade and Pray in Linen Ephod brave,

And pick up single Sheckles from the Grave.

Married at last, and finding Charge come faster,

He cou'd not live by God, but chang'd his Master:

Inspir'd by Want, was made a Factious Tool,

They Got a Villain, and we lost a Fool.

Still Violent, whatever Cause he took,

But most against the Party he forsook,

For Renegadoes, who ne'er turn by halves,

Are bound in Conscience to be double Knaves:

So this Prose-Prophet took most monstrous Pains,

To let his Masters see he earn'd his Gains.

But as the Dev'l ows all his Imps a Shame,

He chose th' Apostate for his proper Theme;

With little Pains he made the Picture true,

And from Reflexion took the Rogue he drew.

A wondrous Work to prove the Jewish Nation,

In every Age a Murmuring Generation;

To trace 'em from their Infancy of Sinning,

And shew 'em Factious from their First Beginning:

To prove they cou'd Rebell, and Rail, and Mock,

Much to the Credit of the Chosen Flock;

A strong Authority which must Convince,

That Saints own no Allegiance to their Prince;

As 'tis a Leading-Card to make a Whore,

To prove her Mother had turn'd up before.

But, tell me, did the Drunken Patriarch Bless

The Son that shew'd his Father's Nakedness?

Such Thanks the present Church thy Pen will give,

Which proves Rebellion was so Primitive.

Must Ancient Failings be Examples made?

Then Murtherers from Cain may learn their Trade.

As thou the Heathen and the Saint hast drawn,

Methinks th' Apostate was the better man:

And thy hot Father (waving my respect)

Not of a mother Church, but of a Sect.

And Such he needs must be of thy Inditing,

This Comes of drinking Asses milk and writing.

If Balack should be cal'd to leave his place

(As profit is the loudest call of Grace,)

His Temple dispossess'd of one, wou'd be

Replenish'd with seven Devils more by thee.

Levi, thou art a load, I'll lay thee down,

And shew Rebellion bare, without a Gown;

Poor Slaves in metre, dull and adle-pated,

Who Rhime below ev'n David's Psalms translated.

Some in my Speedy pace I must outrun,

As lame Mephibosheth the Wisard's Son:

To make quick way I'll Leap o'er heavy blocks,

Shun rotten Uzza as I wou'd the Pox;

And hasten Og and Doeg to rehearse,

Two Fools that Crutch their Feeble sense on Verse;

Who by my Muse, to all succeeding times,

Shall live in spight of their own Dogrell Rhimes.

Doeg, though without knowing how or why,

Made still a blund'ring kind of Melody;

Spurd boldly on, and Dash'd through Thick and Thin,

Through Sense and Non-sense, never out nor in;

Free from all meaning, whether good or bad,

And in one word, Heroically mad:

He was too warm on Picking-work to dwell,

But Faggotted his Notions as they fell,

And if they Rhim'd and Rattl'd all was well.

Spightfull he is not, though he wrote a Satyr,

For still there goes some thinking to ill-Nature:

He needs no more than Birds and Beasts to think,

All his occasions are to eat and drink.

If he call Rogue and Rascal from a Garrat,

He means you no more Mischief than a Parat:

The words for Friend and Foe alike were made,

To Fetter 'em in Verse is all his Trade.

For Almonds he'll cry Whore to his own Mother:

And call Young Absalom King David's Brother.

Let him be Gallows-Free by my consent,

And nothing suffer since he nothing meant;

Hanging Supposes humane Soul and reason,

This Animal's below committing Treason:

Shall he be hang'd who never cou'd Rebell?

That's a preferment for Achitophel.

The Woman that Committed Buggary,

Was rightly Sentenc'd by the Law to die;

But 'twas hard Fate that to the Gallows led,

The Dog that never heard the Statute read.

Railing in other Men may be a crime,

But ought to pass for mere instinct in him;

Instinct he follows and no farther knows,

For to write Verse with him is to Transprose.

'Twere pity treason at his Door to lay,

Who makes Heaven's gate a Lock to its own Key:

Let him rayl on, let his invective muse

Have four and Twenty letters to abuse,

Which if he Jumbles to one line of Sense,

Indict him of a Capital Offence.

In Fire-works give him leave to vent his spight,

Those are the onely Serpents he can write;

The height of his Ambition is we know

But to be Master of a Puppet-show,

On that one Stage his works may yet appear,

And a months Harvest keeps him all the Year.

Now stop your noses Readers, all and some,

For here's a tun of Midnight-work to come,

Og from a Treason Tavern rowling home.

Round as a Globe, and Liquor'd ev'ry chink,

Goodly and Great he Sayls behind his Link;

With all this Bulk there's nothing lost in Og

For ev'ry inch that is not Fool is Rogue:

A Monstrous mass of foul corrupted matter,

As all the Devils had spew'd to make the batter.

When wine has given him courage to Blaspheme,

He Curses God, but God before Curst him;

And if man cou'd have reason none has more,

That made his Paunch so rich and him so poor.

With wealth he was not trusted, for Heav'n knew

What 'twas of Old to pamper up a Jew;

To what wou'd he on Quail and Pheasant swell,

That ev'n on Tripe and Carrion cou'd rebell?

But though Heav'n made him poor, (with rev'rence speaking,)

He never was a Poet of God's making;

The Midwife laid her hand on his Thick Skull,

With this Prophetick blessing – Be thou Dull;

Drink, Swear and Roar, forbear no lewd delight

Fit for thy Bulk, doe any thing but write:

Thou art of lasting Make like thoughtless men,

A strong Nativity –– but for the Pen;

Eat Opium, mingle Arsenick in thy Drink,

Still thou mayst live avoiding Pen and Ink.

I see, I see 'tis Counsell given in vain,

For Treason botcht in Rhime will be thy bane;

Rhime is the Rock on which thou art to wreck,

'Tis fatal to thy Fame and to thy Neck:

Why shoud thy Metre good King David blast?

A Psalm of his will Surely be thy last.

Dar'st thou presume in verse to meet thy foes,

Thou whom the Penny Pamphlet foil'd in prose?

Doeg, whom God for Mankinds mirth has made,

O'er-tops thy tallent in thy very Trade;

Doeg to thee, thy paintings are so Course,

A Poet is, though he's the Poets Horse.

A Double Noose thou on thy Neck dost pull,

For Writing Treason, and for Writing dull;

To die for Faction is a Common evil,

But to be hang'd for Non-sense is the Devil:

Had'st thou the Glories of thy King exprest,

Thy praises had been Satyr at the best;

But thou in Clumsy verse, unlickt, unpointed,

Hast Shamefully defi'd the Lord's Anointed:

I will not rake the Dunghill of thy Crimes,

For who wou'd reade thy Life that reads thy rhimes?

But of King David's Foes be this the Doom,

May all be like the Young-man Absalom;

And for my Foes may this their Blessing be,

To talk like Doeg, and to Write like Thee.

Achitophel each Rank, Degree and Age,

For various Ends neglects not to Engage;

The Wise and Rich for Purse and Counsell brought,

The Fools and Beggars for their Number sought:

Who yet not onely on the Town depends,

For Ev'n in Court the Faction had its Friends;

These thought the Places they possest too small,

And in their Hearts wisht Court and King to fall:

Whose Names the Muse disdaining holds i' th' Dark,

Thrust in the Villain Herd without a Mark;

With Parasites and Libell-spawning Imps,

Intriguing Fopps, dull Jesters and worse Pimps.

Disdain the Rascall Rabble to persue,

Their Sett Caballs are yet a viler Crew;

See where involv'd in Common Smoak they sit;

Some for our Mirth, some for our Satyr fit:

These Gloomy, Thoughtfull and on Mischief bent,

While those for mere good Fellowship frequent

Th' Appointed Clubb, can let Sedition pass,

Sense, Non-sence, any thing t' employ the Glass;

And who believe in their dull honest Hearts,

The Rest talk Treason but to shew their Parts;

Who n'er had Wit or Will for Mischief yet,

But pleas'd to be reputed of a Set.

But in the Sacred Annals of our Plot,

Industrious AROD never be forgot:

The Labours of this Midnight-Magistrate,

May Vie with Corah's to preserve the State;

In search of Arms, He fail'd not to lay hold

On War's most powerfull dang'rous Weapon, GOLD.

And last, to take from Jebusites, all Odds,

Their Altars pillag'd, stole their very Gods;

Oft wou'd He Cry, when Treasure He surpriz'd,

'Tis Baalish Gold in David's Coyn Disguiz'd:

Which to his House with richer Relicts came,

While Lumber Idols onely fed the Flame:

For our wise Rabble ne'er took pains t' enquire,

What 'twas he burnt, so 't made a rousing Fire:

With which our Elder was enricht no more

Than False Gehazi with the Syrian's Store;

So Poor, that when our Choosing-Tribes were met,

Ev'n for his Stinking Votes He ran in Debt;

For Meat the Wicked, and as Authours think,

The Saints He Chous'd for His Electing Drink;

Thus, ev'ry Shift and subtle Method past,

And All to be no Zaken at the Last.

Now, rais'd on Tyre's sad Ruines, Pharaoh's Pride

Soar'd high, his Legions threatning far and wide;

As when a battring Storm ingendred high,

By Winds upheld, hangs hov'ring in the Skye,

Is gaz'd upon by ev'ry trembling Swain,

This for his Vineyard fears, and that his Grain;

For blooming Plants, and Flow'rs new Opening, These

For Lambs ean'd lately, and far-lab'ring Bees;

To Guard his Stock each to the Gods does call,

Uncertain where the Fire-charg'd Clouds will Fall:

Ev'n so the doubtfull Nations watch his Arms,

With Terrour each expecting his Alarms.

Where Judah, where was now, thy Lyons Roar?

Thou onely cou'dst the Captive Lands restore;

But Thou, with inbred Broils, and Faction prest,

From Egypt needst a Guardian with the Rest.

Thy Prince from Sanhedrims no Trust allow'd,

Too much the Representers of the Crowd,

Who for their own Defence give no Supply,

But what the Crowns Prerogatives must buy:

As if their Monarch's Rights to violate,

More needfull were than to preserve the State!

From present Dangers they divert their Care,

And all their Fears are of the Royal Heir;

Whom now the reigning Malice of his Foes,

Unjudg'd wou'd Sentence, and e'er Crown'd, Depose:

Religion the Pretence, but their Decree

To barr his Reign, whate'er his Faith shall be!

By Sanhedrims, and clam'rous Crowds, thus prest

What passions rent the Righteous David's Breast?

Who knows not how t' oppose, or to comply,

Unjust to Grant, and dangerous to Deny!

How near in this dark Juncture Israel's Fate,

Whose Peace one sole Expedient cou'd create,

Which yet th' extremest Virtue did require,

Ev'n of that Prince whose Downfall they conspire!

His Absence David does with Tears advise,

T' appease their Rage, Undaunted He Complies;

Thus he who prodigal of Bloud, and Ease,

A Royal Life expos'd to Winds and Seas,

At once contending with the Waves and Fire,

And heading Danger in the Wars of Tyre,

Inglorious now forsakes his Native Sand,

And like an Exile quits the promis'd Land!

Our Monarch scarce from pressing Tears refrains,

And painfully his Royal State maintains,

Who now embracing on th' extremest Shore

Almost Revokes what he Injoyn'd before:

Concludes at last more Trust to be allow'd,

To Storms and Seas, than to the raging Crowd!

Forbear, rash Muse, the parting Scene to draw,

With Silence charm'd as deep as theirs that saw!

Not onely our attending Nobles weep,

But hardy Saylers swell with Tears the Deep!

The Tyde restrain'd her Course, and more amaz'd,

The Twyn-Stars on the Royal Brothers gaz'd:

While this sole Fear –

Does Trouble to our suff'ring Heroe bring

Lest next the Popular Rage oppress the King!

Thus parting, each for th' others Danger griev'd,

The Shore the King, and Seas the Prince receiv'd.

Go injur'd Heroe while propitious Gales,

Soft as thy Consorts breath inspire thy Sails;

Well may She trust her Beauties on a Flood,

Where thy Triumphant Fleets so oft have rode!

Safe on thy Breast reclin'd her Rest be deep,

Rockt like a Nereid by the Waves asleep;

While happiest Dreams her Fancy entertain,

And to Elysian Fields convert the Main!

Go injur'd Heroe while the Shores of Tyre,

At thy Approach so Silent shall admire,

Who on thy Thunder still their thoughts imploy,

And greet thy Landing with a trembling Joy.

On Heroes thus the Prophet's Fate is thrown,

Admir'd by ev'ry Nation but their Own;

Yet while our factious Jews his Worth deny,

Their Aking Conscience gives their Tongue the Lye.

Ev'n in the worst of Men the noblest Parts

Confess him, and he Triumphs in their Hearts,

Whom to his King the best Respects commend

Of Subject, Souldier, Kinsman, Prince and Friend;

All Sacred Names of most divine Esteem,

And to Perfection all sustain'd by Him,

Wise, Just and Constant, Courtly without Art,

Swift to discern and to reward Desert;

No Hour of His in fruitless Ease destroy'd,

But on the noblest Subjects still employ'd:

Whose steddy Soul ne'er learnt to Separate

Between his Monarch's Int'rest and the State,

But heaps those Blessings on the Royal Head,

Which He well knows must be on Subjects shed.

On what Pretence cou'd then the Vulgar Rage

Against his Worth, and native Rights engage?

Religious Fears their Argument are made,

Religious Fears his Sacred Rights invade!

Of future Superstition They complain,

And Jebusitick Worship in His Reign;

With such Alarms his Foes the Crowd deceive,

With Dangers fright, which not Themselves believe.

Since nothing can our Sacred Rites remove,

Whate'er the Faith of the Successour prove:

Our Jews their Ark shall undisturb'd retain,

At least while their Religion is their Gain,

Who know by old Experience Baal's Commands

Not onely claim'd their Conscience, but their Lands;

They grutch God's Tythes, how therefore shall they yield

An Idol full possession of the Field?

Grant such a Prince enthron'd, we must confess

The People's Suff'rings than that Monarch's less,

Who must to hard Conditions still be bound,

And for his Quiet with the Crowd compound;

Or shou'd his thoughts to Tyranny incline,

Where are the means to compass the design?

Our Crowns Revenues are too short a Store,

And Jealous Sanedrims wou'd give no more!

As vain our Fears of Egypt's potent Aid,

Not so has Pharoah learnt Ambition's Trade,

Nor ever with such Measures can comply,

As Shock the common Rules of Policy;

None dread like Him the Growth of Israel's King,

And He alone sufficient Aids can bring;

Who knows that Prince to Egypt can give Law,

That on our Stubborn Tribes his Yoak cou'd draw,

At such profound Expence He has not stood,

Nor dy'd for this his Hands so deep in Blood;

Wou'd nere through Wrong and Right his Progress take,

Grudge his own Rest, and keep the World awake,

To fix a Lawless Prince on Judah's Throne,

First to Invade our Rights, and then his Own;

His dear-gaind Conquests cheaply to despoil,

And Reap the Harvest of his Crimes and Toil.

We grant his Wealth Vast as our Ocean's Sand,

And Curse its Fatal Influence on our Land,

Which our Brib'd Jews so num'rously pertake,

That ev'n an Host his Pensioners wou'd make;

From these Deceivers our Divisions spring,

Our Weakness, and the Growth of Egypt's King;

These with pretended Friendship to the State,

Our Crowd's Suspition of their Prince Create,

Both pleas'd and frightend with the specious Cry,

To Guard their Sacred Rights and Property;

To Ruin, thus, the Chosen Flock are Sold,

While Wolves are tane for Guardians of the Fold;

Seduc'd by these, we groundlesly complain,

And loath the Manna of a gentle Reign:

Thus our Fore-fathers crooked Paths are trod,

We trust our Prince, no more then They their God.

But all in vain our Reasoning Prophets Preach,

To those whom sad Experience ne're cou'd Teach,

Who can commence new Broils in Bleeding Scars,

And fresh Remembrance of Intestine Wars;

When the same Houshold Mortal Foes did yeild,

And Brothers stain'd with Brothers Blood the Feild;

When Sons Curst Steel the Fathers Gore did Stain,

And Mothers Mourn'd for Sons by Fathers Slain!

When thick, as Egypt's Locusts on the Sand,

Our Tribes lay Slaughter'd through the promis'd Land,

Whose few Survivers with worse Fate remain,

To drag the Bondage of a Tyrants Reign:

Which Scene of Woes, unknowing We renew,

And madly, ev'n those ills we Fear, persue;

While Pharoah laughs at our Domestick Broils,

And safely crowds his Tents with Nations Spoils.

Yet our fierce Sanedrim in restless Rage,

Against our absent Heroe still engage,

And chiefly urge, (such did their frenzy prove,)

The only Suit their Prince forbids to move,

Which till obtain'd, they cease Affairs of State,

And real Dangers wave, for groundless Hate.

Long David's Patience waits Relief to bring,

With all th' Indulgence of a lawful King,

Expecting till the troubled Waves wou'd cease,

But found the raging Billows still increase.

The Crowd, whose Insolence Forbearance swells,

While he forgives too far, almost Rebels.

At last his deep Resentments silence broke,

Th' Imperial Pallace shook, while thus He spoke,

Then Justice wake, and Rigour take her time,

For Lo! Our Mercy is become our Crime.

While haulting Punishment her stroke delays,

Our Sov'reign Right, Heav'ns Sacred Trust, decays;

For whose support ev'n Subjects Interest calls,

Wo! to that Kingdom where the Monarch Falls.

That Prince who yields the least of Regal Sway,

So far his Peoples Freedom does Betray.

Right lives by Law, and Law subsists by Pow'r:

Disarm the Shepherd, Wolves the Flock devour.

Hard Lot of Empire o're a stubborn Race,

Which Heav'n it Self in vain has try'd with Grace!

When will our Reasons long-charm'd Eyes unclose,

And Israel judge between her Friends and Foes?

When shall we see expir'd Deceivers Sway,

And credit what our God and Monarchs say?

Dissembled Patriots brib'd with Egypts Gold,

Ev'n Sanedrims in blind Obedience hold;

Those Patriots Falshood in their Actions see,

And judge by the pernicious Fruit the Tree;

If ought for which so loudly they declaim

Religion, Laws, and Freedom were their Aim;

Our Senates in due Methods they had led,

T' avoid those Mischeifs which they seem'd to dread;

But first er'e yet they propt the sinking State,

T' impeach and charge, as urg'd by private Hate;

Proves that they ne're beleiv'd the Fears they prest,

But Barb'rously destroy'd the Nations Rest!

O! Whither will ungovern'd Senates drive,

And to what Bounds licentious Votes arrive?

When their Injustice We are prest to share,

The Monarch urg'd t' exclude the lawful Heir;

Are Princes thus distinguish'd from the Crowd,

And this the Priviledge of Royal Blood?

But grant we shou'd Confirm the Wrongs they press,

His Sufferings yet were, than the Peoples, less;

Condem'd for Life the Murdring Sword to weild,

And on their Heirs entail a Bloody Feild:

Thus madly their own Freedom they betray,

And for th' Oppression which they fear, make way;

Succession fixt by Heav'n the Kingdoms Bar,

Which once dissolv'd, admits the Flood of War;

Wast, Rapine, Spoil, without th' Assault begin,

And our mad Tribes Supplant the Fence within.

Since then their Good they will not understand,

'Tis time to take the Monarchs Pow'r in hand;

Authority, and Force to joyn with Skill,

And save the Lunaticks against their Will.

The same rough Means that swage the Crowd, appease

Our Senates raging with the Crowds Disease.

Henceforth unbiass'd Measures let 'em draw

From no false Gloss, but Genuine Text of Law;

Nor urge those Crimes upon Religions score

Themselves so much in Jebusites Abhor.

Whom Laws convict (and only they) shall Bleed,

Nor Pharisees by Pharisees be Freed.

Impartial Justice from our Throne shall Shou'r,

All shall have Right, and We our Sov'reign Pow'r.

He said, th' Attendants heard with awful Joy,

And glad Presages their fixt Thoughts employ;

From Hebron now the suffering Heir Return'd,

A Realm that long with Civil Discord Mournd;

Till his Approach, like some Arriving God,

Compos'd, and heal'd the place of his Aboad;

The Deluge checkt that to Judea spread,

And stopt Sedition at the Fountain's Head.

Thus in forgiving David's Paths he drives,

And chas'd from Israel, Israels Peace contrives.

The Feild confest his Pow'r in Arms before,

And Seas proclaim'd his Tryumphs to the Shore;

As nobly has his Sway in Hebron shown,

How fit t' Inherit Godlike Davids Throne!

Through Sion's Streets his glad Arrivals spread,

And Conscious Faction shrinks her snaky head;

His Train their Sufferings think o'repaid, to see

The Crowds Applause with Vertue once agree.

Success charms All, but Zeal for Worth distrest

A Virtue proper to the Brave and Best;

'Mongst whom was Jothran, Jothran always bent

To serve the Crown and Loyal by Descent,

Whose Constancy so Firm, and Conduct Just,

Deserv'd at once Two Royal Masters Trust;

Who Tyre's proud Arms had Manfully withstood

On Seas, and gather'd Lawrels from the Flood;

Of Learning, yet no Portion was deny'd,

Friend to the Muses, and the Muses Pride.

Nor can Benaiah's Worth forgotten lie,

Of steddy Soul when Publick Storms were high;

Whose Conduct, while the Moor fierce Onsets made,

Secur'd at once our Honour & our Trade.

Such were the Chiefs, who most his Suff'rings mourn'd,

And viewd with silent Joy the Prince return'd;

While those that sought his Absence to Betray,

Press first their Nauseous False Respects to pay;

Him still th' officious Hypocrites Molest,

And with malicious Duty break his Rest.

While real Transports thus his Friends Employ,

And Foes are Loud in their dissembled Joy,

His Tryumphs so resounded far and near,

Mist not his Young Ambitious Rival's Ear;

And as when joyful Hunters clam'rous Train,

Some Slumbring Lion Wakes in Moab's Plain,

Who oft had forc'd the bold Assailants Yeild,

And scatter'd his Persuers through the Feild,

Disdaining, furls his Main, and tears the Ground,

His Eyes enflaming all the Desart Round,

With Roar of Seas directs his Chasers Way,

Provokes from far, and dares them to the Fray;

Such Rage storm'd now in Absalom's fierce Breast,

Such Indignation his fir'd Eyes Confest;

Where now was the Instructor of his Pride?

Slept the Old Pilot in so rough a Tide?

Whose Wiles had from the happy Shore betray'd,

And thus on Shelves the cred'lous Youth convey'd;

In deep revolving Thoughts He weighs his State,

Secure of Craft, nor doubts to baffle Fate,

At least, if his storm'd Bark must go adrift,

To baulk his Charge, and for himself to shift,

In which his dextrous Wit had oft been shown,

And in the wreck of Kingdoms sav'd his own;

But now with more then Common Danger prest,

Of various Resolutions stands possest,

Perceives the Crowds unstable Zeal decay,

Least their Recanting Chief the Cause betray,

Who on a Father's Grace his Hopes may ground,

And for his Pardon with their Heads compound.

Him therefore, e're his Fortune slip her Time,

The Statesman Plots t' engage in some bold Crime

Past Pardon, whether to Attempt his Bed,

Or Threat with open Arms the Royal Head,

Or other daring Method, and Unjust,

That may confirm him in the Peoples Trust:

But failing thus t' ensnare him, nor secure

How long his foil'd Ambition may endure,

Plots next to lay him by, as past his Date,

And try some new Pretenders luckier Fate;

Whose Hopes with equal Toil he wou'd persue,

Nor cares what Claimer's Crownd, except the True.

Wake Absalom, approaching Ruin shun,

And see, O see, for whom thou art Undone!

How are thy Honours and thy Fame betray'd,

The Property of desp'rate Villains made!

Lost Pow'r and Conscious Fears their Crimes Create,

And Guilt in them was little less than Fate;

But why shou'dst Thou, from ev'ry Grievance free,

Forsake thy Vineyards for their Stormy Sea?

For Thee did Canaan's Milk and Honey flow,

Love drest Thy Bow'rs, & Lawrels sought thy Brow,

Preferment, Wealth and Pow'r thy Vassals were,

And of a Monarch all things but the Care.

Oh shou'd our Crimes, again, that Curse draw down,

And Rebel-Arms once more attempt the Crown,

Sure Ruin waits unhappy Absalon,

Alike by Conquest or Defeat undone;

Who cou'd relentless see such Youth and Charms,

Expire with wretched Fate in Impious Armes?

A Prince so form'd with Earth's, & Heav'ns Applause,

To Tryumph ore Crown'd Heads in David's Cause:

Or grant him Victor, still his Hopes must fail,

Who, Conquering, wou'd not for himself prevail;

The Faction whom He trusts for future Sway,

Him and the Publique wou'd alike Betray;

Amongst themselves divide the Captive State,

And found their Hydra-Empire in his Fate!

Thus having beat the Clouds with painful Flight,

The pitty'd Youth, with Scepters in his Sight;

(So have their Cruel Politicks Decreed,)

Must by that Crew that made him Guilty, Bleed!

For cou'd their Pride brook any Prince's Sway,

Whom but mild David wou'd they choose t' Obey?

Who once at such a gentle Reign Repine,

The Fall of Monarchy it self Design;

From Hate to That their Reformations spring,

And David not their Grievance, but the King.

Seiz'd now with pannick Fear the Faction lies,

Least this clear Truth strike Absaloms charm'd Eyes,

Least He percieve, from long Enchantment free,

What all, beside the flatter'd Youth, must see.

But whate're doubts his troubled Bosome swell,

Fair Carriage still became Achitophel:

Who now an envious Festival enstalls,

And to survey their Strength the Faction calls,

Which Fraud, Religious Worship too must Guild;

But oh how weakly does Sedition Build!

For Lo! the Royal Mandate Issues forth,

Dashing at once their Treason, Zeal, and Mirth!

So have I seen disastrous Chance Invade,

Where careful Emmits had their Forrage laid,

Whether fierce Vulcan's Rage, the Furzy Plain

Had seiz'd, Engendred by some careless Swain;

Or swelling Neptune lawless Inroads made,

And to their Cell of Store his Flood convey'd;

The Common-Wealth broke up distracted go,

And in wild Hast their loaded Mates o'rethrow:

Ev'n so our scatter'd Guests confus'dly meet,

With Boil'd, Bak'd, Roast, all Justling in the Street;

Dejected all, and rufully dismai'd,

For Sheckle without Treat, or Treason paid.

Seditions dark Eclipse now fainter shows,

More bright each Hour the Royal Plannet grows,

Of Force the Clouds of Envy to disperse,

In kind Conjunction of Assisting Stars.

Here lab'ring Muse those Glorious Chiefs relate,

That turn'd the doubtful Scale of David's Fate;

The rest of that Illustrious Band rehearse,

Immortalliz'd in Lawrell'd Asaph's Verse:

Hard Task! yet will not I thy Flight recall,

View Heav'n and then enjoy thy glorious Fall.

First Write Bezaliel, whose Illustrious Name

Forestals our Praise, and gives his Poet Fame.

The Kenites Rocky Province his Command,

A barren Limb of Fertile Canaans Land;

Which for its gen'rous Natives yet cou'd be

Held Worthy such a President as He!

Bezaliel with each Grace, and Virtue Fraught,

Serene his Looks, Serene his Life and Thought,

On whom so largly Nature heapt her Store,

There scarce remain'd for Arts to give him more!

To Aid the Crown and State his greatest Zeal,

His Second Care that Service to Conceal;

Of Dues Observant, Firm in ev'ry Trust,

And to the Needy always more than Just:

Who Truth from specious falshood can divide,

Has all the Gown-mens Skill without their Pride;

Thus crown'd with worth from heights of honour won,

Sees all his Glories copyed in his Son,

Whose forward Fame should every Muse engage:

Whose Youth boasts skill deny'd to others Age.

Men, Manners, Language, Books of noblest kind

Already are the Conquest of his Mind.

Whose Loyalty before its Date was prime;

Nor waited the dull course of rowling Time:

The Monster Faction early he dismaid,

And David's Cause long since confest his Aid.

Brave Abdael o'er the Prophet's School was plac'd;

Abdael with all his Father's Virtue grac'd;

A Heroe, who, while Stars look'd wondring down,

Without one Hebrew's Bloud restor'd the Crown.

That Praise was His; what therefore did remain

For following Chiefs, but boldly to maintain

That Crown restor'd; and in this Rank of Fame,

Brave Abdael with the First a place must claim.

Proceed illustrious, happy Chief, proceed,

Foreseize the Garlands for thy Brow decreed,

While th' inspir'd Tribe attend with noblest strain

To Register the Glories thou shalt gain:

For sure, the Dew shall Gilboah's Hills forsake,

And Jordan mix his Stream with Sodom's Lake;

Or Seas retir'd their secret Stores disclose,

And to the Sun their scaly Brood expose,

Or swell'd above the Clifts, their Billows raise,

Before the Muses leave their Patron's Praise.

Eliab our next Labour does invite,

And hard the Task to doe Eliab right:

Long with the royal Wanderer he rov'd,

And firm in all the Turns of Fortune prov'd!

Such ancient Service and Desert so large,

Well claim'd the Royal Houshold for his Charge,

His Age with onely one mild Heiress blest,

In all the Bloom of smiling Nature drest,

And blest again to see his Flow'r ally'd

To David's Stock, and made young Othniel's Bride!

The bright Restorer of his Father's Youth,

Devoted to a Son's and Subject's Truth:

Resolv'd to bear that prize of Duty home,

So bravely sought (while sought) by Absalom.

Ah Prince! th' illustrious Planet of thy Birth,

And thy more powerfull Virtue guard thy worth;

That no Achitophel thy Ruine boast;

Israel too much in one such Wreck has lost.

Ev'n Envy must consent to Helon's Worth;

Whose Soul (though Egypt glories in his Birth)

Cou'd for our Captive-Ark its Zeal retain,

And Pharaoh's Altars in their Pomp disdain:

To slight his Gods was small; with nobler pride,

He all th' Allurements of his Court defi'd:

Whom Profit nor Example cou'd betray,

But Israel's Friend and true to David's Sway.

What acts of favour in his Province fall;

On Merit he confers, and Freely all.

Our List of Nobles next let Amri grace,

Whose Merits claim'd the Abethdins high place;

Who, with a Loyalty that did excell,

Brought all th' endowments of Achitophel.

Sincere was Amri, and not onely knew,

But Israel's Sanctions into practice drew;

Our Laws, that did a boundless Ocean seem,

Were coasted all, and fathom'd all by Him.

No Rabbin speaks like him their mystick Sense,

So just, and with such Charms of Eloquence:

To whom the double Blessing does belong,

With Moses Inspiration, Aaron's Tongue.

Than Sheva, none more loyal Zeal have shown,

Wakefull, as Judah's Lion for the Crown.

Who for that Cause still combats in his Age,

For which his Youth with danger did engage.

In vain our factious Priests the Cant revive,

In vain seditious Scribes with Libels strive

T' enflame the Crowd, while He with watchfull Eye

Observes, and shoots their Treasons as They fly.

Their weekly Frauds his keen Replies detect,

He undeceives more fast than they infect.

So Moses when the Pest on Legions prey'd,

Advanc'd his Signal and the Plague was stay'd.

Once more, my fainting Muse, thy Pinnions try,

And Strengths exhausted store let Love supply.

What Tribute, Asaph, shall we render Thee?

We'll crown thee with a Wreath from thy own Tree!

Thy Lawrel Grove no Envye's flash can blast;

The Song of Asaph shall for ever last!

With wonder late Posterity shall dwell

On Absalom, and false Achitophel:

Thy strains shall be our slumbring Prophets dream,

And when our Sion-Virgins sing, their Theam.

Our Jubilees shall with thy Verse be grac't,

The Song of Asaph shall for ever last!

How fierce his Satyr loos'd, restrain'd how tame,

How tender of th' offending Young man's Fame!

How well his worth, and brave Adventures styl'd,

Just to his Vertues, to his Errour mild.

No Page of thine that fears the strictest view,

But teems with just Reproof, or Praise, as due;

Not Eden cou'd a fairer Prospect yield,

All Paradise without one barren Field:

Whose Wit the Censure of his Foes has past,

The Song of Asaph shall for ever last!

What Praise for such rich Strains shall we allow?

What just Rewards the gratefull Crown bestow?

While Bees in Flow'rs rejoyce, and Flow'rs in Dew,

While Stars and Fountains to their Course are true;

While Judah's Throne, and Sion's Rock stand fast,

The Song of Asaph and the Fame shall last.

Still Hebrons honour'd happy Soil Retains

Our Royal Heroes beauteous dear remains;

Who now sails off with Winds nor Wishes slack,

To bring his Suff'rings bright Companion back,

But e'er such Transport can our sense employ

A bitter grief must poyson half our Joy;

Nor can our Coasts restor'd those Blessings see

Without a Bribe to envious Destiny!

Curs'd Sodom's Doom for ever fix the Tyde

Where by inglorious Chance the Valiant dy'd.

Give not insulting Askalon to know,

Nor let Gath's Daughters triumph in our Woe!

No Sailer with the News swell Egypt's Pride,

By what inglorious Fate our Valiant dy'd!

Weep Arnon! Jordan weep thy Fountains dry,

While Sion's Rock dissolves for a Supply!

Calm were the Elements, Night's silence deep,

The Waves scarce murm'ring, and the Winds asleep;

Yet Fate for Ruine takes so still an hour,

And treacherous Sands the Princely Barque devour;

Then Death unworthy seiz'd a gen'rous Race,

To Virtues scandal, and the Stars disgrace!

Oh! had th' Indulgent Pow'rs vouchsaf't to yield,

Instead of faithless Shelves, a listed Field;

A listed Field of Heav'ns and David's Foes,

Fierce as the Troops that did his Youth oppose,

Each Life had on his slaughter'd heap retir'd,

Not Tamely, and Unconqu'ring thus expir'd:

But Destiny is now their onely Foe,

And dying, ev'n o'er that they triumph too;

With loud last Breaths their Master's Scape applaud,

Of whom kind Force cou'd scarce the Fates defraud;

Who for such Followers lost, O matchless Mind!

At his own Safety now almost repin'd!

Say Royal Sir, by all your Fame in Arms,

Your Praise in Peace, and by Urania's Charms;

If all your Suff'rings past so nearly prest,

Or pierct with half so painful Grief your Breast?

Thus some Diviner Muse her Heroe forms,

Not sooth'd with soft Delights, but tost in storms:

Not stretcht on Roses in the Myrtle Grove,

Nor Crowns his Days with Mirth, his Nights with Love

But far remov'd in Thundring Camps is found,

His Slumbers short, his Bed the herbless Ground:

In Tasks of Danger always seen the First,

Feeds from the Hedg, and slakes with Ice his Thirst.

Long must his Patience strive with Fortunes Rage,

And long opposing Gods themselves engage,

Must see his Country Flame, his Friends destroy'd,

Before the promis'd Empire be enjoy'd,

Such Toil of Fate must build a Man of Fame,

And such, to Israel's Crown, the God-like David came.

What suddain Beams dispel the Clouds so fast!

Whose drenching Rains laid all our Vineyards waste?

The Spring so far behind her Course delay'd,

On th' Instant is in all her Bloom array'd,

The Winds breath low, the Element serene;

Yet mark what Motion in the Waves is seen!

Thronging and busie as Hyblæan Swarms,

Or stragled Souldiers Summon'd to their Arms.

See where the Princely Barque in loosest Pride,

With all her Guardian Fleet, Adorns the Tide!

High on her Deck the Royal Lovers stand,

Our Crimes to Pardon e're they toucht our Land.

Welcome to Israel and to David's Breast!

Here all your Toils, here all your Suff'rings Rest.

This year did Ziloah Rule Jerusalem,

And boldly all Sedition's Syrges stem,

How e're incumbred with a viler Pair

Than Ziph or Shimei to assist the Chair;

Yet Ziloah's loyal Labours so prevail'd

That Faction at the next Election fail'd,

When ev'n the common Cry did Justice Sound,

And Merrit by the Multitude was Crown'd:

With David then was Israel's Peace restor'd,

Crowds Mournd their Errour and Obey'd their Lord.