Here David's joy unruly grows and bold,
Nor could sleep's silken chain its violence hold,
Had not the angel, to seal fast his eyes,
The humours stirr'd, and bade more mists arise:
When straight a chariot hurries swift away,
And in it good Josiah bleeding lay;

One hand 's held up, one stops the wound; in vain

They both are us'd: alas! he 's slain, he 's slain.

Jehoias and Jehoiachim next appear;
Both urge that vengeance which before was near:
He in Egyptian fetters captive dies,

This by more courteous anger murder'd lies.
His son and brother next do bonds sustain,
Israel's now solemn and imperial ch'ain.
Here's the last scene of this proud city's state;
All ills are met, ty'd in one knot of Fate.
Their endless slavery in this trial lay;
Great God had heap'd up ages in one day:
Strong works around the wall the Chaldees build,
The town with grief, and dreadful business fill'd;
To their carv'd gods the frantic women pray,
Gods, which as near their ruin were as they.
At last in rushes the prevailing foe,
Does all the mischief of proud conquest show:
The wondering babes from mothers' breasts are
rent,

And suffer ills they neither fear'd nor meant ;
No silver reverence guards the stooping age,
No rule or method ties their boundless rage:
The glorious temple shines in flame all o'er,
Yet not so bright as in its gold before:
Nothing but fire or slaughter meets the eyes;
Nothing the ear but groans and dismal cries.
The walls and towers are levell'd with the ground,
And scarce aught now of that vast city 's found

But shards and rubbish, which weak signs might keep

Of fore past glory, and bid travellers weep.
Thus did triumphant Assur homewards pass,
And thus Jerusalem left, Jerusalem that was!
This Zedechiah saw, and this not all;
Before his face his friends and children fall,
The sport of insolent victors; this he views,
A king and father once! ill Fate could use
His eyes no mure to do their master spite;
All to be seen she took, and next his sight.
Thus a long death in prison he outwears;
Bereft of grief's last solaçe, ev'n his tears.

Then Jeconiah's son did foremost come,
And he who brought the captiv'd nation home!
A row of worthies in long order pass'd
O'er the short stage; of all old Joseph last.
Fair angels pass'd by next in seemly bands,
All gilt, with gilded baskets in their hands:
Some, as they went, the blue-ey'd violet strew,
Some spotless lilies in loose order threw;
Some did the way with full-blown roses spread,
Their smell divine, and colour strangely red;
Not such as our dull gardens proudly wear,
Whom weathers taint, and winds' rude kisses
Such, I believe, was the first rose's hue, [tear:
Which at God's word in beateous Eden grew;
Queen of the flowers which made that orchard
gay!

The morning blushes of the Spring's new day. With sober pace an heavenly maid walks in, Her looks all fair; no sign of native sin

Through her whole body writ; immoderate grace
Spoke things far more than human in her face:
It casts a dusky gloom o'er all the flowers;
And with full beams their mingled light devours!
An angel straight broke from a shining cloud,
And press'd his wings, and with much reverence
bow'd;

Again he bow'd, and grave approach he made,
And thus his sacred message sweetly said:

"Hail, full of Grace, thee the whole world

shall call

Above all Blest! Thee, who shalt bless them all.
Thy virgin womb in wondrous sort shall shroud
Jesus the God (and then again he bow'd);
Conception the great Spirit shall breathe on thee;
Hail thou! who must God's wife, God's mother,
be!"

With that, his seeming form to Heaven he rear'd:
She low obeisance made, and disappear'd.
Lo! a new star three eastern sages see
(For why should only earth'a gainer be?
They saw this Phosphor's infant-light, and knew
It bravely usher'd in a Sun as new:
They hasted al! this rising Sun t' adore;
With them rich myrrh and early spices bore:
Wise men! no fitter gift your zeal could bring i
You'll in a noisome stable find your King.
Anon a thousand devils run roaring in;
Some with a dreadful smile deform'dly grin;
Some stamp their cloven paws, some frown and
tear

The gaping snakes from their black-knotted hair;
As if all grief, and all the rage of Hell,
Were doubled now, or that just now they fell:
But, when the dreaded maid they entering saw..
| All fled with trembling fear and silent awe.
In her chaste arms th' eternal infant lies
Th' Almighty voice chang'd into feeble cries.
Heaven contain'd virgins oft, and will do more;
Never did virgin contain Heaven before.
Angels peep round to view this mystic thing,
And Halleluiah round, all Halleluiah sing.
No longer could good David quiet bear
Th' unwieldy pleasure which o'erflow'd him

Bodies and clothes himself with thicken'd air;
All like a comely youth in life's fresh bloom;
Rare workmanship, and wrought by heavenly
loom!

He took for skin a cloud mest soft and bright,
That ere the mid-day Sun pierc'd through with
Upon his cheeks a lively blush he spread, [light;
Wash'd from the morning beauty's deepest red:
An barmless flaming meteor shone for hair,
And fell adown his shoulders with loose care;
He cuts out a silk mantle from the skies,
Where the most spritely azure pleas'd the eyes
This he with starry vapours spangles all,
Took in their prime, ere they grow ripe and fall:

Sometimes à violent laughter screw'd his face,
And sometimes ready tears drop'd down apace;
Sometimes he fix'd his staring eyes on ground,
And sometimes in wild manner hurl'd them 1ound.
More full revenge Philistians could not wish:
But call't the justice of their mighty Fish.
They now in height of anger let him live;
And, freedom too, t' encrease his scorn they give;
He, by wise madness freed, does homeward flee,
And rage makes them all that he seem'd to be.
Near to Adullam, in an aged wood,

An hill, part earth, part rocky stone, there stood,
Hollow and vast within, which Nature wrought,
As if by her scholar Art she had been taught.
Hither young David with his kindred came,
Servants and friends: many his spreading fame,
Many their wants or discontents, did call:
Great men in war, and almost armies, all!
Hither came wise and valiant Joab down
(One to whom David's self must owe his crown);
A mighty man, had not some cunning sin,
Amidst so many virtues crowded in.

With him Abishai came, by whom there fell
At once three hundred: with him Asahel;
Asahel, swifter than the northern wind;
Scarce could the nimble motions of his mind
Outgo his feet; so strangely would he run,
That Time itself perceived not what was done:
Oft o'er the lawns and meadows would he pass,
His weight unknown, and harmless to the grass;
Oft o'er the sands and hollow dust would trace,
Yet no one atom trouble or displace.
Unhappy youth, whose end so near I see !
There's nought but thy ill fate so swift as thee.
Hither Jessides' wrongs Benaiah drew,
He who the vast exceeding monster slew;
Th' Egyptian like an hill himself did rear,
Like some tall tree upon it seem'd his spear:
But by Benaiah's staff he fell, o'erthrown;
The Earth, as if worst strook, did loudest groan.
Such was Benaiah: in a narrow pit

He saw a lion, and leapt down to it;
As easily there the royal beast he tore,
As that itself did kids or lambs before.
Him Ira follow'd, a young lovely boy,
But full of spirit, and arms was all his joy;
Oft, when a child, he in his dreams would fight
With the vain air, and his wak'd mother fright;
Oft he would shoot young birds, and, as they fall,
Would laugh, and fancy them Philistians all:
And now at home no longer would he stay,
Though yet the face did scarce his sex betray.
Dodos' great son came next, whose dreadful
hand
[band;
Snatch'd ripen'd glories from a conquering
Who knows not Dammin, and that barley-field,
Which did a strange and bloody harvest yield.
Many besides did this new troop increase;
Adan, whose wants made him unfit for peace;
Eliel, whose full quiver did always bear
As many deaths as in it arrows were:
None from his hand did vain or innocent flee,
Scarce Love or Fate could aim so well as he.
Many of Judah took wrong'd David's side,
And many of old Jacob's youngest tribe;
But his chief strength the Gathite soldiers are,
Each single man able t'o'ercome a war!
Swift as the darts they fling through yielding air,
And hardy all as the strong steel they bear:

A lion's noble rage sits in their face,
Terribly comely, arm'd with dreadful grace !
Th' undaunted prince, though thus well-guard.
ed here,

Yet his stout soul does for his parents fear;
He seeks for them a safe and quiet seat,
Nor trusts his fortune with a pledge so great.
So, when in hostile fire rich Asia's pride
For ten years' siege had fully satisfy'd,
Æneas stole an act of higher fame,
And bore Anchises through the wondering flame;
A nobler burthen and a richer prey,
Than all the Grecian forces bore away!
Go, pious prince! in peace, in triumph go;
Enjoy the conquest of thine overthrow;
To 'ave sav'd thy Troy would far less glorious be;
By this thou overcom'st their victory.
Moab next Judah, an old kingdom, lies:
Jordan their touch, and his curs'd sea, denies :
They see north-stars from o'er Amoreus' ground,
Edom and Petra their south part does bound:
Eastwards the lands of Cush and Ammon lie,
The morning's happy beams they first espy;
The region with fat soil and plenty 's blest,
A soil too good to be of old possest

By monstrous Emins; but Lot's offspring came,
And conquer'd both the people and the name;
Till Seon drave them beyond Arnon's flood,
And their sad bounds mark'd deep in their own
blood.

In Hesbon, his triumphant court he plac'd,
Hesbon, by men and Nature strangely grac'd;
A glorious town, and fill'd with all delight
Which peace could yield, though well prepar'd
for fight.

But this proud city and her prouder lord,
Felt the keen rage of Israel's sacred sword;
Whilst Moab triumph'd in her torn estate,
To see her own become her conqueror's fate :
Yet that small remnant of Lot's parted crown
Did, arm'd with Israel's sins, pluck Israel down:
Full thrice six years they felt fierce Eglon's yoke,
Till Ehud's sword God's vengeful message spoke;
Since then their kings in quiet held their own,
Quiet, the good of a not-envy'd throne!
And now a wise old prince the sceptre sway'd,
Well by his subjects and himself obey'd;
Only before his fathers' gods he fell;
Poor wretched man! almost too good for Hell!
Hither does David his blest parents bring;
With humble greatness begs of Moab's king
A safe and fair abode, where they might live,
Free from those storms with which himself must
strive.

The king with cheerful grace his suit approv'd,
By hate to Saul, and love to Virtue mov'd.
"Welcome, great Knight, and your fair troop,"
said he,

"Your name found welcome long before with me;
That to rich Ophir's rising morn is known,
And stretch'd out far to the burnt swarthy zone:
Swift Fame, when her round journey she does
make,

Scorns not sometimes us in her way to take.
Are you the man did that huge giant kill,
Great Baal of Phegor? and how young he's still!
From Ruth we heard you came; Ruth was born
here,

In Judah sojourn'd, and (they say) match'd there

To one of Bethlem; which I hope is true:
Howe'er your virtues here entitle you :
Those have the best alliance always been;
To gods as well as men they make us kin."
He spoke, and straight led in his thankful guests,
T'a stately room prepar'd for shows and feasts:
The room with golden tapestry glister'd bright,
At once to please, and to confound, the sight,
Th' excellent work of Babylonian hands;
In midst a table of rich ivory stands,
By three fierce tigers, and three lions borne,
Which grin, and fearfully the place adorn;
Widely they gape, and to the eye they roar,
As if they hunger'd for the food they bore.
About it beds of Libyan citron stood,
With coverings dy'd in Tyrian fishes' blood
(They say, th' Herculean art): but most delight
Some pictures gave to David's learned sight.
Here several ways Lot and great Abram go,
Their too-much wealth vast and unkind does
grow;

Thus each extreme to equal danger tends,
Plenty, as well as Want, can separate friends.
Here Sodom's towers raise their proud tops on
high

(The towers, as well as men, outbrave the sky);
By it the waves of reverend Jordan run,
Here green with trees, there gilded with the Sun;
Hither Lot's household comes, a numerous train,
And all with various business fill the plain:
Some drive the crowding sheep with rural hooks;
They lift up their mild heads, and bleat in looks;
Some drive the herds; here a fierce bullock

scorns

Th' appointed way, and runs with threatening horns;

In vain the herdman calls him back again;
The dogs stand off afar, and bark in vain :
Some lead the groaning waggons, loaded high
With stuff, on top of which the maidens lie:
Upon tall camels the fair sisters ride,

And Lot talks with them both on either side.
Another picture to curst Sodom brings
Elam's proud lord, with his three servant-kings:
They sack the town, and bear Lot bound away;
Whilst in a pit the vanquish'd Bera lay,
Buried almost alive, for fear of death;
But Heaven's just vengeance sav'd as yet his
breath:

Abraham pursues and slays the victor's host,
Scarce had their conquest leisure for a boast.
Next this was drawn the reckless city's flame.
When a strange Hell pour'd down from Heaven
there came.

Here the two angels from Lot's window look With smiling anger; the lewd wretches, strook With sudden blindness, seek in vain the door, Their eyes, first cause of lust, first vengeance bore.

Through liquid air Heaven's busy soldiers fly, And drive on clouds where seeds of thunder lie: Here the sad sky glows red with dismal streaks, Here lightning from it with short trembling breaks; Here the blue flames of scalding brimstone fall, Involving swiftly in one ruin all:

The fire of trees and houses mounts on high, And meets half-way new fires that shower from sky.

Some in their arms snatch their dear babes away; At once drop down the fathers' arms and they:

Some into waters leap with kindled hair,
And, more to vex their fate, are burnt ev'n there,
Men thought (so much a flame by art was
shown)

The picture's self would fall in ashes down.
Afar old Lot toward little Zoar hies,
And dares not move (good man) his weeping

eyes:

Behind his wife stood, ever fix'd alone,
No more a woman, not yet quite a stone:
A lasting death seiz'd on her turning head;
One cheek was rough and white, the other red,
And yet a cheek: in vain to speak she strove :
Her lips though stone, a little seem'd to move:
One eye was clos'd, surpris'd by sudden night:
The other trembled still with parting light:
The wind admir'd, which her hair loosely bore,
Why it grew stiff, and now would play no more.
To Heaven she lifted up her freezing hands,
And to this day a suppliant pillar stands:
She try'd her heavy foot from ground to rear,
And rais'd the heel, but her toes rooted there:
Ah, foolish woman! who must always be
A sight more strange than that she turn'd to see!
Whilst David fed with these his curious eye,
The feast is now serv'd-in and down they lie.
Moab a goblet takes of massy gold,
Which Zippor, and from Zippor all of old
Quaff'd to their gods and friends: an health goes
round

In the brisk grape of Arnon's richest ground;
Whilst Melchor to his harp with wondrous skill
(For such were poets then, and should be still)
His noble verse through Nature's secrets led :
He sung what spirit through the whole mass is
spread,

Every-where all; how Heavens God's law approve,

And think it rest eternally to move;
How the kind Sun usefully comes and goes,
Wants it himself, yet gives to man repose;
How his round journey does for ever last,
And how he baits at every sea in haste:
He sung how Earth blots the Moon's gilded wane,
Whilst foolish men beat sounding brass in vain;
Why the great waters her slight horns obey,
Her changing horns not constanter than they :
He sung how grisly comets hung in air;
Why swords and plagues attend their fatal hair;
God's beacons for the world, drawn up so far,
To publish ill, and raise all earth to war:
Why contraries feed thunder in the cloud;
What motions vex it, till it roar so loud:
How lambent fires become so wondrous tame,
And bear such shining winter in their flame:
What radiant pencil draws the watery bow:
What ties up hail, and picks the fleecy snow:
What palsy of the Earth here shakes fix'd hills
From off her brows, and here whole rivers spills.
Thus did this Heathen Nature's secrets tell,[well.
And sometimes miss'd the cause, but sought it

Such was the sauce of Moab's noble feast,
Till night far spent invites them to their rest:
Only the good old prince stays Joab there,
And much he tells, and much desires to hear;
He tells deeds antique, and the new desires
Of David much, and much of Saul, inquires.
"Nay gentle guest!" said he, "since now
you're in,

The story of your gallant friend begin;

His birth, his rising, tell, and various fate,
And how he slew that man of Gath of late,
What was he call'd? that huge and monstrous
man!"

With that he stopp'd, and Joab thus began
"His birth, great sir! so much to mine is
ty'd,

That praise of that might look from me like pride:

Yet, without boast, his veins contain a flood
Of th' old Judean lion's richest blood.

From Judah Pharez, from him Esrom, came,
Ram, Nashon, Salmon, names spoke loud by
Fame:

A name no less ought Boaz to appear,

By whose blest match we come no strangers here:
From him and your fair Ruth good Obed sprung,
From Obed Jesse, Jesse, whom Fame's kindest
tongue,

Counting his birth, and high nobility, shall
Not Jesse of Obed, but of David, call,
David born to him seventh; the six births past
Brave trials of a work more great at last.
Bless me! how swift and growing was his wit!
The wings of Time flagg'd dully after it.
Scarce past a child, all wonders would he sing
Of Nature's law, and power of Nature's king.
His sheep would scorn their food to hear his lay,
And savage beasts stand by as tame as they;
The fighting winds would stop there, and admire,
Learning consent and concord from his lyre;
Rivers, whose waves roll'd down aloud before,
Mute as their fish, would listen towards the shore.
""Twas now the time when first Saul God
forsook,

God Saul; the room in 's heart wild passions took:
Sometimes a tyrant-frensy revell'd there,
Sometimes black sadness and deep, deep despair.
No help from herbs, or learned drugs he finds,
They cure but sometimes bodies, never minds :
Music alone those storms of soul could lay;
Not more Saul them, than music they, obey.
David's now sent for, and his harp must bring;
His harp, that magic bore on every string:
When Saul's rude passions did most tumult keep,
With his soft notes they all dropp'd down asleep:
When his dull spirits lay drown'd in death and
night

He with quick strains rais'd them to life and light.

Thus cheer'd he Saul, thus did his fury 'suage,
Till wars began, and times more fit for rage.
To Helah plain Philistian troops are come,
And War's loud noise strikes peaceful Music
dumb.

Back to his rural care young David goes;
For this rough work Saul his stout brethren

chose :

He knew not what his hand in war could do,
Nor thought his sword could cure men's mad-

ness too.

Now Dammin's destin'd for this scene of blood;
On two near hills the two proud armies stood,
Between, a fatal valley stretch'd-out wide,
And Death seem'd ready now on either side;
When lo! their host rais'd all a joyful shout,
And from the midst an huge and monstrous man
stepp'd out.

Aloud they shouted; at each step he took
We and the Earth itself beneath him shook,

The valley now this monster seem'd to fill ;
And we, methought, look'd up t' him from our
hill.

All arm'd in brass the richest dress of war
(A dismal glorious sight!) he shone afar;
The Sun himself started with sudden fright,
To see his beams return so dismal bright:
Brass was his helmet, his boots brass; and o'er
His breast a thick plate of strong brass he wore:
His spear the trunk was of a lofty tree,
Which Nature meant some tall ship's mast
should be;

Th' huge iron head six hundred shekels weigh'd,
And of whole bodies but one wound it made;
Able Death's worst commands to overdo,
Destroying life at once and carcase too.
Thus arm'd he stood; all direful and all gay,
And round him flung a scornful look away:
So, when a Scythian tiger, gazing round,
An herd of kine in some fair plain has found,
Lowing secure, he swells with angry pride,
And calls forth all his spots on every side;
Then stops, and hurls his haughty eyes at all,
In choice of some strong neck on which to fall;
Almost he scorns so weak, so cheap a prey,
And grieves to see them trembling haste away.
'Ye men of Jury,' he cries, 'if men you be,
And such dare prove yourselves to Fame and me,
Chuse out 'mongst all your troops the boldest
knight,

To try his strength and fate with me in fight:
The chance of war, let us two bear for all,
And they the conqueror serve whose knight shall
fall.'

At this he paus❜d awhile: straight, 'I defy
Your gods and you; dares none come down and
die?

Go back for shame, and Egypt's slavery bear,
Or yield to us, and serve more nobly here.
Alas! ye 'ave no more wonders to be done,
Your sorcerer Moses now, and Joshua, 's gone;
Your magic trumpets then could cities take,
And sounds of triumph did your battles make.
Spears in your hands and manly swords are