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. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. |
| XLIII. |
| XLIV. |
| XLV. |
| XLVI. |
| XLVII. |
| XLVIII. |
| XLIX. |
| L. |
| LI. |
| LII. |
| LIII. |
| LIV. |
| LV. |
| LVI. |
| LVII. |
| LVIII. |
| LIX. |
| LX. |
| LXI. |
| LXII. |
| LXIII. |
| LXIV. |
| LXV. |
| LXVI. |
| LXVII. |
| LXVIII. |
| LXIX. |
| LXX. |
| LXXI. |
| LXXIII. |
| LXXIV. |
| LXXV. |
| LXXVI. |
| LXXVII. |
| LXXVIII. |
| LXXIX. |
| LXXX. |
| LXXXI. |
| LXXXII. |
| LXXXIII. |
| LXXXIV. |
| LXXXV. |
| LXXXVI. |
| LXXXVII. |
| LXXXVIII. |
| LXXXIX. |
| XC. |
| XCI. |
| XCII. |
| XCIII. |
| XCIV. |
| XCV. |
| XCVI. |
| XCVII. |
| XCVIII. |
| XCIX. |
| C. |
| CI. |
| CII. |
| CIII. |
| CIV. |
| CV. |
| CVI. |
| CVII. |
| CVIII. |
| CIX. |
| CX. |
| CXI. |
| CXII. |
| CXIII. |
| CXIV. |
| CXV. |
| CXVI. |
| CXVII. |
| CXVIII. |
| CXIX. |
| CXX. |
| CXXI. |
| CXXII. |
| CXXIII. |
| CXXIV. |
| CXXV. |
| CXXVI. |
| CXXVII. |
| CXXVIII. |
| CXXXIX. |
| CXXX. |
| CXXXI. |
| CXXXII. |
| CXXXIII. |
| CXXXIV. |
| CXXXV. |
| CXXXVI. |
| CXXXVII. |
| CXXXVIII. |
| CXXXIX. |
| CXL. |
| CXLI. |
| CXLII. |
| CXLIII. |
| CXLIV. |
| CXLV. |
| CXLVI. |
| CXLVII. |
| CXLVIII. |
| CXLIX. |
| CL. |
| CLI. |
| CLII. |
| CLIII. |
| CLIV. |
| CLV. |
| CLVI. |
| CLVII. |
| CLVIII. |
| CLIX. |
| CLX. |
| CLXI. |
| CLXII. |
| CLXIII. |
| CLXIV. |
| CLXV. |
| CLXVI. |
| CLXVII. |
| 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. | CXCV. 2 Kings, Chap. XIII. from Ver. 10. to the End. |
| 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 |  |
CXCV. 2 Kings, Chap. XIII. from Ver. 10. to the End.
Jehoash reigns. Elisha's Sickness: He prophesies the Discomfiture of Syria, &c.
And now Jehoash Israel's Scepter gain'd,
(His Father dead) and in Samaria reign'd:
But to his Crimes succeeds as well as Throne,
And Jeroboam's Idols made his own:
On ev'ry side press'd by their ancient Foes,
Weaker and still more weak his Empire grows:
Their Guardian Prophet too declining lay,
Thy Strength, Elisha! and thy Spirits decay;
Hardly the Twi-light left of thy once glorious Day!
The King of Israel heard, he left his Throne,
And wept the Prophet's Loss, but more his own:
My Father! O my Father!—thus he cry'd!
Who shall the widow'd Land defend or guide,
When thou no more?—The Monarch thus complain'd,
And o're his Face a Show'r of Tears he rain'd;
Nor unconcern'd th'expiring Saint remain'd.
He summons all his Force, rais'd on his Bed,
(The last Effort of Life) and thus he said,
(His Father dead) and in Samaria reign'd:
But to his Crimes succeeds as well as Throne,
And Jeroboam's Idols made his own:
On ev'ry side press'd by their ancient Foes,
Weaker and still more weak his Empire grows:
Their Guardian Prophet too declining lay,
Thy Strength, Elisha! and thy Spirits decay;
Hardly the Twi-light left of thy once glorious Day!
The King of Israel heard, he left his Throne,
And wept the Prophet's Loss, but more his own:
My Father! O my Father!—thus he cry'd!
Who shall the widow'd Land defend or guide,
444
And o're his Face a Show'r of Tears he rain'd;
Nor unconcern'd th'expiring Saint remain'd.
He summons all his Force, rais'd on his Bed,
(The last Effort of Life) and thus he said,
At length I feel Death's shiv'ring Cold possess'd
Of ev'ry Avenue, prepare to storm my Breast:
Yet sooner shall this lab'ring Breath depart,
Than my dear Country's Love forsake my Heart:
Happy in this, that I my Life shall close,
With fair Presage of Conquest o're their Foes:
A Bow and Arrows brought at his Command,
Upon the Kings he plac'd his trembling Hand:
To East, to Syria-ward, my Liege! he cry'd,
And rais'd his Voice, the fatal Arrow guide!
The Bow-string twangs, and from the Windows height,
The whizzing Shaft pursues its airy Flight:
Agen the Prophet rais'd his drooping Head,
His Eyes confess'd new Life, and thus he said.
Go on, bright Messenger! thy Quarry find,
And for long Triumphs mark a Track behind!
While Syria's boasted Strength like Dust before the Wind.
Once more his Eyes he on the Monarch cast,
These Arrows take and strike, for Life's in haste!
Strike on the Ground, he cries—the Prince obey'd:
And once, and twice he wond'ring struck and staid:
The Prophet thus—too well the Fate I know
Of Israel's Kings, too easie to their Foe.
How happy, hadst thou dar'd pursue thy Blow?
So had with ease by thy repeated Stroke,
Beyond Recruits the Syrian Arms been broke:
The just Event his true Presages found,
For thrice were Israel's Sons with Conquest crown'd.
Of ev'ry Avenue, prepare to storm my Breast:
Yet sooner shall this lab'ring Breath depart,
Than my dear Country's Love forsake my Heart:
Happy in this, that I my Life shall close,
With fair Presage of Conquest o're their Foes:
A Bow and Arrows brought at his Command,
Upon the Kings he plac'd his trembling Hand:
To East, to Syria-ward, my Liege! he cry'd,
And rais'd his Voice, the fatal Arrow guide!
The Bow-string twangs, and from the Windows height,
The whizzing Shaft pursues its airy Flight:
Agen the Prophet rais'd his drooping Head,
His Eyes confess'd new Life, and thus he said.
Go on, bright Messenger! thy Quarry find,
And for long Triumphs mark a Track behind!
While Syria's boasted Strength like Dust before the Wind.
Once more his Eyes he on the Monarch cast,
These Arrows take and strike, for Life's in haste!
446
And once, and twice he wond'ring struck and staid:
The Prophet thus—too well the Fate I know
Of Israel's Kings, too easie to their Foe.
How happy, hadst thou dar'd pursue thy Blow?
So had with ease by thy repeated Stroke,
Beyond Recruits the Syrian Arms been broke:
The just Event his true Presages found,
For thrice were Israel's Sons with Conquest crown'd.
Thus he who grieves to strike, delights to save,
Reprieves those Sinners whom he not forgave:
The sacred Contract with their Fathers sign'd,
Tho' they forgot, he still retains in mind:
For his own Honour their Salvation wrought,
Against his Foes at once, and Israel's fought.
Reprieves those Sinners whom he not forgave:
The sacred Contract with their Fathers sign'd,
Tho' they forgot, he still retains in mind:
For his own Honour their Salvation wrought,
Against his Foes at once, and Israel's fought.
“O Truth unchangeable! O Pow'r divine!
“So may'st thou still on thy lov'd People shine!
“Assist their Arms with undeserv'd Success,
“Proud Tyrants humble, and their Rage repress;
“So all the groaning World shall thee their Saviour bless.
“So may'st thou still on thy lov'd People shine!
“Assist their Arms with undeserv'd Success,
“Proud Tyrants humble, and their Rage repress;
“So all the groaning World shall thee their Saviour bless.
| The history of The Old Testament In verse | |