 |
CHAPTER 16th.
The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse |  |
When Chaldee's King, with wealth and madness warm'd,
His golden God, with countless cost, had form'd,
And summon'd all his subject realms to meet
And worship at the senseless Idol's feet,
Some heaven-instructed, honest-hearted, Youths,
Illuminated, long, with sacred Truths,
In fiery furnace rather risqu'd to die,
Than with such blasphemous behests comply;
Resolving to withstand the Tyrant's nod
In love and reverence to their Saviour-God:
And little different is this impious plan,
Tho' that was but an Image—this, a Man!
His heart, so long puff'd up with princely lot,
His great Creator and kind God forgot—
That God whose Providence gave wonderous dow'r;
This Ingrate, so possest with Wealth and Pow'r;
A Loan, so tempting! lent him for a Time,
To make more noted his enormous Crime—
Then, as a public Spectacle to all
Who felt his Greatness, and beheld his fall,
With wonderous Judgment made the Monster mute
And gave him heart, and instinct, like a Brute.
His golden God, with countless cost, had form'd,
And summon'd all his subject realms to meet
And worship at the senseless Idol's feet,
Some heaven-instructed, honest-hearted, Youths,
Illuminated, long, with sacred Truths,
In fiery furnace rather risqu'd to die,
Than with such blasphemous behests comply;
Resolving to withstand the Tyrant's nod
In love and reverence to their Saviour-God:
And little different is this impious plan,
Tho' that was but an Image—this, a Man!
His heart, so long puff'd up with princely lot,
His great Creator and kind God forgot—
That God whose Providence gave wonderous dow'r;
This Ingrate, so possest with Wealth and Pow'r;
A Loan, so tempting! lent him for a Time,
To make more noted his enormous Crime—
Then, as a public Spectacle to all
Who felt his Greatness, and beheld his fall,
With wonderous Judgment made the Monster mute
And gave him heart, and instinct, like a Brute.
Remember this, ye mighty Potentates!
Who swell so proudly in your princely States!
Presume not to insult the poorest Slave;
Your Greatness Heav'n hath lent, but never gave!
And Slaves, degraded, who, as dirt, You deem,
Much high'r than You may stand in God's esteem,
The Poor are oft adopted Heav'n's high'st Heirs
And Earth's best happiness is oftener Theirs;
While They, thro' Faith, their Father's Love enjoy,
Who neither long to live, nor dread to die!
You are the monstrous Image Daniel saw;
And, near your exit, tow'rds destruction draw.
The golden Head, with proud imperious mien,
And silver Breast and Arms, no longer seen—
The brazen Belly and the Thighs, that shone,
And both its iron Legs have long been gone!
The ferrine Feet, mix'd up with mirey clay,
Now soon must moulder, and all fly away!
Then the pure Stone cut out without a hand
Shall fill with wonder each astonish'd Land!
Shall banish Tyranny, and plunge below
All proud Oppression—cruel War—and Woe!
Crush courtly Profligacy, Pride, and Lust,
By crumbling Kings, and Empires down to Dust!
Who swell so proudly in your princely States!
Presume not to insult the poorest Slave;
Your Greatness Heav'n hath lent, but never gave!
And Slaves, degraded, who, as dirt, You deem,
Much high'r than You may stand in God's esteem,
The Poor are oft adopted Heav'n's high'st Heirs
And Earth's best happiness is oftener Theirs;
While They, thro' Faith, their Father's Love enjoy,
Who neither long to live, nor dread to die!
You are the monstrous Image Daniel saw;
And, near your exit, tow'rds destruction draw.
The golden Head, with proud imperious mien,
And silver Breast and Arms, no longer seen—
The brazen Belly and the Thighs, that shone,
And both its iron Legs have long been gone!
The ferrine Feet, mix'd up with mirey clay,
Now soon must moulder, and all fly away!
Then the pure Stone cut out without a hand
Shall fill with wonder each astonish'd Land!
Shall banish Tyranny, and plunge below
All proud Oppression—cruel War—and Woe!
Crush courtly Profligacy, Pride, and Lust,
By crumbling Kings, and Empires down to Dust!
|
CHAPTER 16th.
The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse | |