The history of The Old Testament In verse With One Hundred and Eighty sculptures: In Two Volumes. Vol. I. From the Creation to the Revolt of the Ten Tribes from the House of David. Vol. II. From that Revolt to the End of the Prophets. Written by Samuel Wesley ... The Cuts done by J. Sturt |
I, II. |
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LXVIII. |
LXIX. |
LXX. |
LXXI. |
LXXIII. |
LXXIV. |
LXXV. |
LXXVI. |
LXXVII. |
LXXVIII. |
LXXIX. |
LXXX. |
LXXXI. |
LXXXII. |
LXXXIII. |
LXXXIV. |
LXXXV. |
LXXXVI. |
LXXXVII. |
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LXXXIX. |
XC. |
XCI. |
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XCV. |
XCVI. |
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CI. |
CII. |
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CX. |
CXI. |
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CXXXIX. |
CXXX. |
CXXXI. |
CXXXII. |
CXXXIII. |
CXXXIV. |
CXXXV. |
CXXXVI. |
CXXXVII. |
CXXXVIII. |
CXXXIX. |
CXL. |
CXLI. |
CXLII. | CXLII. 2 Samuel, Chap. I. from Ver. 1. to the End. |
CXLIII. |
CXLIV. |
CXLV. |
CXLVI. |
CXLVII. |
CXLVIII. |
CXLIX. |
CL. |
CLI. |
CLII. |
CLIII. |
CLIV. |
CLV. |
CLVI. |
CLVII. |
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CLIX. |
CLX. |
CLXI. |
CLXII. |
CLXIII. |
CLXIV. |
CLXV. |
CLXVI. |
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CLXVIII. |
CLXIX. |
CLXX. |
CLXXI. |
CLXXII. |
CLXXIII. |
CLXXIV. |
CLXXV. |
CLXXVI. |
CLXXVII. |
CLXXVIII. |
CLXXIX. |
CLXXX. |
CLXXXI. |
CLXXXII. |
CLXXXIII. |
CLXXXIV. |
CLXXXV. |
CLXXXVI. |
CLXXXVII. |
CLXXXVIII. |
CXC. |
CXCI. |
CXCII. |
CXCIII. |
CXCIV. |
CXCV. |
CXCVI. |
CXCVII. |
CXCVIII. |
CXCIX. |
CC. |
CCI. |
CCII. |
CCIII. |
CCIV. |
CCV. |
CCVI. |
CCVII. |
CCVIII. |
CCIX. |
CCX. |
CCXI. |
CCXII. |
CCXIII. |
CCXIV. |
CCXV. |
CCXVI. |
CCXVII. |
CCXVIII. |
CCXIX. |
CCXX. |
CCXXI. |
CCXXII. |
CCXXIII. |
CCXXIV. |
CCXXV. |
CCXXVI. |
CCXXVII. |
CCXXVIII. |
CCXXIX. |
CCXXX. |
CCXXXI. |
CCXXXII. |
CCXXXIII. |
CCXXXIV. |
CCXXXV. |
CCXXXVI. |
CCXXXVII. |
CCXXXVIII. |
CCXXXIX. |
CCXL. |
CCXLI. |
CCXLII. |
CCXLIII. |
CCXLIV. |
CCXLV. |
CCXLVI. |
CCXLVII. |
CCXLVIII. |
CCXLIX. |
CCL. |
CCLI. |
CCLII. |
CCLIII. |
CCLIV. |
CCLV. |
CCLVI. |
CCLVII. |
CCLVIII. |
CCLIX. |
CCLX. |
CCLXI. |
CCLXII. |
CCLXIII. |
CCLXIV. |
CCLXV. |
CCLXVI. |
CCLXVII. |
The history of The Old Testament In verse | ||
283
CXLII. 2 Samuel, Chap. I. from Ver. 1. to the End.
David's Elegy on Saul and Jonathan.
Around the Land th'amazing Tidings spred,
That Israel's Host before the Heathen fled,
And Saul, and matchless Jonathan were dead:
Jessides heard, nor longer cou'd resent
His private Wrongs; he wept, his Robes he rent,
His festal Triumphs into Fasting turn'd,
Forgave the Tyrant, and the Father mourn'd.
How did he then his Jonathan deplore!
His Friend, his dearer self was now no more:
Thus did at length his Loyal Passion vent,
And thus his Country's Loss in deathless Songs lament.
That Israel's Host before the Heathen fled,
And Saul, and matchless Jonathan were dead:
Jessides heard, nor longer cou'd resent
His private Wrongs; he wept, his Robes he rent,
His festal Triumphs into Fasting turn'd,
Forgave the Tyrant, and the Father mourn'd.
How did he then his Jonathan deplore!
His Friend, his dearer self was now no more:
Thus did at length his Loyal Passion vent,
And thus his Country's Loss in deathless Songs lament.
Thy Glory, Israel! and thy Beauty mourn!
'Tis vanish'd, never, never to return.
Ah! who in feeble Mortal's Strength wou'd trust?
'Tis fallen, fallen, fallen to the Dust!
'Tis vanish'd, never, never to return.
Ah! who in feeble Mortal's Strength wou'd trust?
'Tis fallen, fallen, fallen to the Dust!
O tell it not in Gath's triumphant Gate,
Nor in the Streets of Ashkalon relate:
Lest Capthor's Daughters shou'd insulting cry,
Their Dagon conquers him who rules the Sky.
Nor in the Streets of Ashkalon relate:
284
Their Dagon conquers him who rules the Sky.
O fatal Gilboa, where my Friend was slain:
No Dew on thee descend, or kindly Rain!
No Corn or Wine thy blasted Surface yield,
Accurs'd and burnt, as Sodom's dismal Field;
For there was lost the Warrior's mighty Shïeld,
The Shield of Saul was lost; his sacred Head,
Tho' the bless'd Oyl around his Temples shed,
Profan'd and mingled with the vulgar Dead.
No Dew on thee descend, or kindly Rain!
No Corn or Wine thy blasted Surface yield,
Accurs'd and burnt, as Sodom's dismal Field;
For there was lost the Warrior's mighty Shïeld,
The Shield of Saul was lost; his sacred Head,
Tho' the bless'd Oyl around his Temples shed,
Profan'd and mingled with the vulgar Dead.
Thy Bow, my Friend! was never drawn in vain;
Thy Arrows drunk the Blood of thousands slain.
What Armies fell by Saul's victorious Sword,
Too faithful now to to its despairing Lord?
Thy Arrows drunk the Blood of thousands slain.
What Armies fell by Saul's victorious Sword,
Too faithful now to to its despairing Lord?
Princely his Stature, charming was his Air:
With him alone cou'd Jonathan compare:
Lovely in Life, in Death too near ally'd,
Not Death itself their Friendship cou'd divide:
Swifter than Eagles cut their airy way,
Stronger than Lions when they seize the Prey.
With him alone cou'd Jonathan compare:
Lovely in Life, in Death too near ally'd,
Not Death itself their Friendship cou'd divide:
Swifter than Eagles cut their airy way,
Stronger than Lions when they seize the Prey.
Mourn all ye Loves! ye tender Virgins mourn!
Your flowry Wreaths to Cypress Garlands turn:
Mourn your lov'd Monarch's lamentable Fate,
On whom so oft your charming Quire did wait,
As he from Fight return'd in Kingly State:
For you he conquer'd; you did with him share
The Wealth of Peace and glorious Spoils of War:
Lay by your purple Robes from Sidon's shore,
And wear your splendid Coronets no more;
For Saul who gave 'em, gen'rous Saul is lost,
And silent Shades receive his mighty Ghost.
Your flowry Wreaths to Cypress Garlands turn:
Mourn your lov'd Monarch's lamentable Fate,
On whom so oft your charming Quire did wait,
As he from Fight return'd in Kingly State:
285
The Wealth of Peace and glorious Spoils of War:
Lay by your purple Robes from Sidon's shore,
And wear your splendid Coronets no more;
For Saul who gave 'em, gen'rous Saul is lost,
And silent Shades receive his mighty Ghost.
How are the Mighty faln—their Strength in vain!
O Jonathan! thou wert in Battel slain!
Stretch'd on cold Earth, thy lifeless Limbs as cold,
Nor those dear Eyes must I agen behold.
O Jonathan! How shall I thee commend!
My more than Brother, and my more than Friend!
My Life, my Jonathan!—And can we part?
I feel my Loss hang heavy on my Heart.
With mortal Anguish is my Soul oppress'd,
I wear thy bleeding Image in my Breast.
Thy Friendship did the tend'rest Love excel;
'Twas like thy self, 'twas all a Miracle:
A pure, a constant, and a heav'nly Fire,
Beyond the softer Sexes frail Desire.
O Jonathan! thou wert in Battel slain!
Stretch'd on cold Earth, thy lifeless Limbs as cold,
Nor those dear Eyes must I agen behold.
O Jonathan! How shall I thee commend!
My more than Brother, and my more than Friend!
My Life, my Jonathan!—And can we part?
I feel my Loss hang heavy on my Heart.
With mortal Anguish is my Soul oppress'd,
I wear thy bleeding Image in my Breast.
Thy Friendship did the tend'rest Love excel;
'Twas like thy self, 'twas all a Miracle:
A pure, a constant, and a heav'nly Fire,
Beyond the softer Sexes frail Desire.
How are the Mighty faln? Their Fate deplore!
Thy Sword, thy Spear and Shield, O Israel! are no more!
Thy Sword, thy Spear and Shield, O Israel! are no more!
The history of The Old Testament In verse | ||