Poems on Several Occasions :: :: University of Virginia Library

Why, Lord! so long from us dost thou retire?
Against thy Pasture Sheep why glows thy Ire?
On thy Assembly turn thy Thought once more;
Thy antient Right, by Purchase thine of yore:
Thy Glebe redeem'd, and subject to thy Rod;
This Hill of Sion, once thy lov'd abode.
O! hither turn thy Steps! O hither haste,
Or to repair, or to revenge the Waste:
Where impious Foes reduce thy holy Fane
To Ruins, which for ever must remain.
Within thy Courts they raise an horrid Cry:
And fix their Standards in the Air to fly.
To lift the polish'd Ax, in former Days,
On stately Cedars, was the Workman's Praise:
But now at once descending Axes sound,
The weighty Hammer's blunter Strokes rebound,
Till all the Artifice that did adorn
The gilded Fretwork from the Walls is torn.
Nor so content, their sacrilegious Hands
Within thy Shrine have toss'd the flaming Brands;
The Mansion where abode thy Name before
Have they profan'd, and levell'd with it's Floor.
Their Hearts inspir'd; let all to Ruin turn:
The Synagogues thro' all the Land they burn.

196

No wonted Omens now our Prospect chear:
Nor rises now the visionary Seer;
Nor one the dark Events of future Time to clear.
O God! how long shall thus thy Foe defame?
Must he for ever thus revile thy Name?
Why does thy Hand, as if contracted rest?
Thy better Hand? O! draw it from thy Breast.
For God my Sov'reign is from Nature's Birth:
The Author of Salvation thro' the Earth.
By potent Might thou didst the Sea divide;
And crush the Heads of Dragons in the Tide:
Thy Stroke the vast Leviathan confounds,
And cleaves his many Heads with mortal Wounds;
The People who along the Desert stray
Upon the Coast, shall feast upon the Prey.
Express'd by thee, from rocky Fissures glide
The Spring and Streams; while rapid Floods are dry'd.
Thine is the Day, with golden Lustre bright;
And thine the spangled Purple of the Night:
The Dawn which opens with a rosy Gleam;
And the full Glories of the solar Beam.
Thou didst the Globe with various Zones inclose:
And mad'st the Summer's Heat, and Winter's Snows.
Remember, Lord! how thus thy Foes exclaim:
How stupid Idiots dare revile thy Name.
O! do not thou to cruel Hands resign
This harmless tim'rous Turtle which is thine:
Nor to profound oblivion doom the Poor.
Recall to mind the Covenant once more:

197

For in the Caves of Earth, remote from Day,
Relentless Murther watches for her Prey.
Arise, O Lord! to vindicate thy Cause;
Still must the Libertine blaspheme thy Laws?
Neglect not then their Clamour bold and loud;
Nor the rude Tumult of the gath'ring Crowd.