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His common deeds are wonders ; all His works
One ever-during chain of miracles !

Enter ARASPES.
Ar. All hail, O king! Darius, live for ever!
May all thy foes be as Pharnaces is !

Dar. Araspes, speak!
Ar.

Oh, let me spare the tale
'Tis full of horror ! Dreadful was the sight !
The hungry lions, greedy for their prey,
Devour'd the wretched princes ere they reach'd
The bottom of the den.
Dar.

Now, now confess,
'Twas some superior hand restrain’d their rage
And tamed their furious appetites.
People.

'Tis true
The God of Daniel is a mighty God!
He saves and He destroys.
Ar.

O friend! O Daniel !
No wav'ring doubts can ever more disturb
My settled faith.
Dan.

To God be all the glory!

1

REFLECTIONS

OF

KING HEZEKIAH,

IN HIS SICKNESS.

"Set thine house in order, for thou shalt die.”

ISAIAH, Xxxviii.

REFLECTIONS

OF

KING HEZEKIAH,

IN HIS SICKNESS.

What, and no more ?-Is this, my soul, said I,
My whole of being !-Must I surely die?
Be robb’d at once of health, of strength, of time,
Of youth's fair promise, and of pleasure's prime?
Shall I no more behold the face of morn,
The cheerful daylight, and the spring's return?
Must I the festive bower, the banquet leave,
For the dull chambers of the darksome grave ?

Have I consider'd what it is to die?
In native dust with kindred worms to lie;
To sleep in cheerless cold neglect ! to rot!
My body loath'd, my very name forgot !
Not one of all those parasites, who bend
The supple knee, their monarch to attend !
What, not one friend! No, not an hireling slave
Shall hail great Hezekiah in the grave.
Where's he, who falsely claim'd the name of

Great? Whose eye was terror, and whose frown was fate ?

pay!

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Who awed an hundred nations from the throne ?
See where he lies, dumb, friendless, and alone!
Which grain of dust proclaims the noble birth ?
Which is the royal particle of earth ?
Where are the marks, the princely ensigns where?
Which is the slave, and which great David's heir ?
Alas! the beggar's ashes are not known
From his who lately sat on Israel's throne.
How stands my great account? My soul,

survey
The debt Eternal Justice bids thee
Should I frail memory's records strive to blot,
Will Heaven's tremendous reck’ning be forgot?
Can I, alas! the awful volume tear,
Or raze one page of the dread register?

Prepare thy house, thy heart in order set? Prepare the Judge of heaven and earth to

meet."
So spake the warning prophet.—Awful words!
Which fearfully my troubled soul records.
Am I prepared ? and can I meet my doom,
Nor shudder at the dreaded wrath to come?
Is all in order set, my house, my heart ?
Does not besetting sin still claim a part ?
No cherish'd error, loth to quit its place,
Obstruct within

my

soul the work of grace?
Did I each day for this great day prepare,
By righteous deeds, by sin-subduing prayer?
Did I each night, each day's offence repent,
And each unholy thought and word lament?
Still have these ready hands th' afflicted fed,
And minister'd to want her daily bread ?
The cause I knew not, did I well explore ?
Friend, advocate, and parent of the poor?
Did I, to gratify some sudden gust
Of thoughtless appetite, some impious lust
Of pleasure or of power, such sums employ
As would have fush'd pale penury with joy?

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