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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| CLIX. | CLIX. 2 Samuel, Chap. XXIV. 1 Chron. Chap. XXI. |
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 | The history of The Old Testament In verse |  |
CLIX. 2 Samuel, Chap. XXIV. 1 Chron. Chap. XXI.
David numbers the People. A Pestilence sent, &c.
Too happy Israel now, debauch'd with Ease,
Dissolve in lazy Luxury and Peace:
When Kings offend, their sinful Lands endure
Those Plagues which their united Crimes procure.
Satan, commission'd, David's Heart assails,
To Pride he tempts the Monarch and prevails.
For Joab strait he sends, and bids him go
And number all the Tribes, resolv'd his Strength to know.
His word unwillingly the Chief obey'd,
From Dan he to Beersheba's Coasts survey'd,
Th'appointed Ransom for their Souls unpay'd:
Th'ungrateful Sacrilege did Heav'n resent,
And to the King with heavy Tidings sent;
My Three dread Scourges, Famine, Plague and War
Are all propos'd, thou must for one prepare:
How hard a Choice! The Monarch how distress'd!
Yet with repenting Tears he chose the Best:
Into the Hands of God, since one he must,
He chose to fall, as Merciful as Just.
See the destroying Angel speed away,
While greedy Death attends to seize her Prey!
His Sword of pois'nous Exhalations made,
Red, as a fatal Comet's flaming Blade,
High in mid-Heav'n he brandish'd, not in vain,
In three short Days were Seventy thousand slain.
Dissolve in lazy Luxury and Peace:
When Kings offend, their sinful Lands endure
Those Plagues which their united Crimes procure.
331
To Pride he tempts the Monarch and prevails.
For Joab strait he sends, and bids him go
And number all the Tribes, resolv'd his Strength to know.
His word unwillingly the Chief obey'd,
From Dan he to Beersheba's Coasts survey'd,
Th'appointed Ransom for their Souls unpay'd:
Th'ungrateful Sacrilege did Heav'n resent,
And to the King with heavy Tidings sent;
My Three dread Scourges, Famine, Plague and War
Are all propos'd, thou must for one prepare:
How hard a Choice! The Monarch how distress'd!
Yet with repenting Tears he chose the Best:
Into the Hands of God, since one he must,
He chose to fall, as Merciful as Just.
See the destroying Angel speed away,
While greedy Death attends to seize her Prey!
His Sword of pois'nous Exhalations made,
Red, as a fatal Comet's flaming Blade,
High in mid-Heav'n he brandish'd, not in vain,
In three short Days were Seventy thousand slain.
And now o're fair Jerusalem he stood
And shakes his Sword, which thirsted yet for Blood:
Jessides saw the Minister of Fate,
In Act to strike, and but for Orders wait:
From Olivet he to Moriah strode,
And in his Hand the dreadful Sword of God:
Low on the Ground he falls with Sackcloth spread,
His Crown laid by, and Ashes on his Head:
On me, on me, O righteous Heav'n! let all
The threaten'd Death, and heavy Vengeance fall:
But spare these Innocents, nor let thy Rage
Wax hot against thy Sheep, thy Heritage!
'Twas I that number'd, I that sinn'd—'tis I
Alone deserve, alone desire to die.
Mild Pity heard, and prostrate at the Throne
Presents his Pray'rs, and added of her own:
The Father smiles and grants; she shoots away
And pass'd the Confines of eternal Day,
On her own peaceful Rain-bow swerving down,
She stood confess'd above the sacred Town,
Seiz'd the Destroying-Angel's flaming Brand,
Seal'd in its Sheath, and stopp'd his lifted Hand;
Then did to raise th'afflicted Monarch send
The Reverend Gad, his Prophet and his Friend:
In Ornan's Floor an Altar bids him rear,
To him who stopp'd the hov'ring Vengeance there.
'Tis done, the grateful Odor mounts the Skies,
And heav'nly Fire consumes th'accepted Sacrifice.
And shakes his Sword, which thirsted yet for Blood:
Jessides saw the Minister of Fate,
In Act to strike, and but for Orders wait:
332
And in his Hand the dreadful Sword of God:
Low on the Ground he falls with Sackcloth spread,
His Crown laid by, and Ashes on his Head:
On me, on me, O righteous Heav'n! let all
The threaten'd Death, and heavy Vengeance fall:
But spare these Innocents, nor let thy Rage
Wax hot against thy Sheep, thy Heritage!
'Twas I that number'd, I that sinn'd—'tis I
Alone deserve, alone desire to die.
Mild Pity heard, and prostrate at the Throne
Presents his Pray'rs, and added of her own:
The Father smiles and grants; she shoots away
And pass'd the Confines of eternal Day,
On her own peaceful Rain-bow swerving down,
She stood confess'd above the sacred Town,
Seiz'd the Destroying-Angel's flaming Brand,
Seal'd in its Sheath, and stopp'd his lifted Hand;
Then did to raise th'afflicted Monarch send
The Reverend Gad, his Prophet and his Friend:
In Ornan's Floor an Altar bids him rear,
To him who stopp'd the hov'ring Vengeance there.
'Tis done, the grateful Odor mounts the Skies,
And heav'nly Fire consumes th'accepted Sacrifice.
| The history of The Old Testament In verse | |