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 |
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| CLII. | CLII. 2 Samuel, Chap. XIV. from Ver. 23, 25, 26. Chap. XV. to Ver. 6. |
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 | The history of The Old Testament In verse |  |
308
CLII. 2 Samuel, Chap. XIV. from Ver. 23, 25, 26. Chap. XV. to Ver. 6.
Absalon's Return: He steals the Hearts of the People.
Compell'd their frail Mortality must own;
Their Counsels oft they change; as oft by those
Abus'd, on whom they shine, and Faith repose:
This David was by dear Experience taught,
When Absalon he from long Exile brought:
Yet who cou'd fondness blame for such a Son,
So lov'd, so prais'd, so fair as Absalon?
A manly Beauty he, without a Mole,
(Ah, had he but enjoy'd as fair a Soul!)
Nor cou'd the Raven's glossy Plumes compare,
When jetting in the Sun, with his long weight of Hair:
To this the Tempter's self had scarce a Tongue
More softly fil'd than his, more smoothly hung;
Form'd to deceive; the Art of Courts he knew,
But more himself from bounteous Nature drew:
Chariots and Horse, and regal Pomp assumes,
And glitters in his slighted Father's Plumes;
Nor needs he those, a Living Tide came round,
Where e're he walk'd, and bore him from the Ground:
310
For none can seem so humble as the Proud?
Early he rose, so ill Ambition slept,
And in the Gate perpetual Guard he kept:
When any of the Tribes for Justice came
He sounds his Bus'ness, his Abode, and Name,
And Court-Delays does well-dissembling blame:
My Father to his Harp delights to sing
The Temple-Hymns, too pious for a King:
The while the Bus'ness of the State forgot,
And Law alike, and JUSTICE sold and bought.
Ah, had I, tho' unworthy such a Grace,
On his Tribunal, but the meanest Place;
None justly shou'd with my award be griev'd,
None shou'd depart my Presence unreliev'd.
When to the Royal Youth Obeisance made,
Too much, my Friend, 'tis far too much he said,
You must not thus to me yourself debase,
Then stooping, rears 'em with a kind Embrace,
Thus steals their Hearts; the King almost alone,
Robb'd of his Subjects, sate on his deserted Throne.
| The history of The Old Testament In verse | |