The Life of Our Blessed Lord & Saviour Jesus Christ An Heroic Poem: Dedicated to Her Most Sacred Majesty. In Ten Books. Attempted by Samuel Wesley ... Each Book illustrated by necessary Notes, explaining all the more difficult Matters in the whole History: Also a Prefatory Discourse concerning Heroic Poetry. With Sixty Copper-Plates |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
BOOK VIII.
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| IX. |
| X. |
 | The Life of Our Blessed Lord & Saviour Jesus Christ |  |
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BOOK VIII.
The Argument of the Eighth Book.
A Catalogue of the Nations that came to the Passover, together with the Inhabitants of the Holy Land. Herod's Entry and Train from Galilee. Our Saviour privately comes thither with his Disciples, sending St. Peter and St. John before him to prepare the Passover in Mount Sion. But could not remain undiscovered, some Greeks, from Athens, having heard of his Fame, and pressing to see him; which having obtain'd by the Assistance of some Tyrian Merchants of Philip's Acquaintance; God the Father, at his desire, attests him now the third time by a Voice from Heaven. At which the People being again ready to force a Kingdom upon him, he retires, with his Disciples. However, his Fame and Doctrine spread so far, that all things were now at a Crisis, and the whole Nation upon the point of owning him the Messiah. At which Lucifer being alarm'd, takes with him a Detachment of Devils, and flies to Earth, where sending the rest to their appointed Posts, to facilitate his Design, he himself enters the Palace of Caiaphas; and Night being now come, and the High-Priest asleep, appears before him in the Form of old Hircanus, chiding him for his Remissness, and stirring him up to destroy our Saviour. In order to which, as soon as he wakes, he sends privately to assemble the Sanhedrim; which being known to Gamaliel, Joseph, and Nicodemus, they hasten likewise thither. Caiaphas's Speech to the Sanhedrim, against our Saviour, accusing him for a Subverter of their Laws; pretending to prove, he was not, for that Reason, to be hearkned to, tho he wrought Miracles; complaining of the Meanness of his Doctrine on one side, obliging to forgive Enemies, and of the impracticable Heights on the other, not admitting Liberty of Thoughts, or the first Motions of Desire or Anger; with other Objections usually urged by the Deists against Christianity. After which he rises higher, charges him with Blasphemy; and at last, falling into a Prophetick Fury, he declares, 'twas necessary one Man should die for the whole Nation; urging, that could not be a Sin which God himself had decreed. His Speech variously received by the Sanhedrim. Nicodemus stands up, and begins cautiously to answer him. Whom Joseph of Arimathea interrupts, and boldly, before 'em all, confesses Jesus; distinctly answering all the Cavils of Caiaphas against his Person and Law, and pressing the Sanhedrim to receive him as their true Messiah. While they were divided in their Opinions, and debating the matter, our Saviour celebrates the Passover, with his twelve Disciples, and institutes the Sacrament of his Blessed Body and Blood; foreshowing and describing the Traitor Judas, who went out from the rest with a resolution to betray him; whose Offer to the Sanhedrim was agreed to by the majority, and Preparations made to apprehend him. Our Lord comforts the remaining Disciples, but prophesies of their forsaking him, and particularly St. Peter's Denial. Thence he leads them to Gethsemane; and takes St. Peter, James, and John with him into the thickest part of the Garden, leaving the rest at the Gate. His Agonies and Prayers, not for fear of the approaching Pain or Infamy, but of his Father's Anger. An Angel appears to strengthen him. A Comparison of him with the most famous ancient Heroes, shewing how far he exceeded them in Patience and Virtue. The three Disciples asleep for Sorrow. Judas, having received Guards from the High-Priest, comes to the Garden, and, with a Kiss, betrays our Lord; who being apprehended, after he had healed Malchus, whom St. Peter had wounded, all his Disciples forsake him. He's carried to the High-Priest's Palace, and there abused by the Guards and Rabble. St. John, who soon resumed Courage, followed our Saviour, and own'd himself his Disciple. St. Peter comes after, the with more Fear, and is introduced into the Palace, by the Interest of St. John; but being known to some of the Company, and charg'd as a Follower of Jesus, he thrice denies him, the last time with Curses and Imprecations; till, on our Saviour's looking back upon him, he returns to himself, and, departing from the Palace, endeavours to expiate his Guilt by a severe Repentance. Our Saviour accus'd by the High-Priest and Caiaphas, but no Proof against him, that would reach his Life; till Caiaphas adjuring him to own it if he were the Son of God, and he telling them, they should hereafter see him come to judg the World, he's accused for Blasphemy, and hurried away to the Roman Governour, being adjudged, by the Sanhedrim, worthy of Death.
263
Now o'er the Hills the Paschal Morn arose,
And from high Tow'rs the sacred Trumpet blows;
Proclaiming their great Feast, all Israel meet,
Thick crouding thro' each dusty Gate and Street;
Strangers and Proselytes, where e'er their Birth,
Whatever part o'th' many Peopled Earth;
Some from the Isles, Crete, Rhodes and Cyprus, some
From double-Sea'd Byzant, and Corinth come;
From the fair Fields with Rivers circled wide,
From Elam and Euphrates flowry side.
With all th' Arabia's, to the Feast repair
The Realms of Monobaze and Helen fair;
Strong Adiabene call'd, well known to Fame;
But most from blest Judæa's Regions came;
From Dan, to old Beersheba's fruitful Plain,
From Jazers Sea, to the great Western Main:
These from Phenician Fields their Journey take,
From Tyrus-stairs, and the Cendevian Lake:
Herod, his num'rous Galileans brings
From all his Towns, a Pomp well worthy Kings:
Strong Sephoris, and rich Tiberias send
Their choicest Youth, Sebaste's Lords attend
With Pray'rs for their great Frounder, who his Guests,
On Jordan's Banks, at proud Herodion Feasts;
Who Guarded thence and Honour'd, wait him down,
By Jericho, to Salem's sacred Town:
His rich paternal Palace they prepare,
And rang'd before the Gates, Salute him there;
Nor sooner his approach the Elders know,
But to receive him in long State they go;
The Roman-Guards the same, loud Shouts they made,
Their Eagle on Antonia's Tow'rs display'd:
Not so our Saviour met, nor he desir'd
Vain Honours, or mean wordlly Fame requir'd;
A train of Virtues did the Hero bring,
Unseen officious Angels guard their King.
In vain a private Entry made his choice,
For all Good-men at his approach rejoice:
Ent'ring the Town, he did before him send,
As Harbingers, bold Cephas and his Friend:
These all prepar'd, (nor cou'd they want success,
For where himself he sends, himself he'll bless:)
What Moses, or the Elders did enjoyn,
The Lamb, the Herbs, the Bread, the sacred Wine.
Mean while, the Croud's Hosannas to prevent,
He rounds the Walls by Sion's steep ascent:
In vain their unbespoken Pomp he'd shun,
From every part the gazing People run;
Fame bears the News thro' all the pester'd Gates,
And the vast Town almost depopulates.—
So, when some Godlike Prince by Heav'n design'd,
The common Benefactor of Mankind;
Triumphant over e'en himself and Fame,
Who wou'd by Virtue only raise his Name;
So when he, envious of himself, wou'd go
Thro' some sav'd Town, or Realm Incognito;
Thro' the vain Cloud his stronger Beams will Shine,
The mortal Form confessing the Divine:
Forth pour thick Floods of Men, the Saviour meet,
And strow thick Flow'rs and Blessings at his Feet.
And from high Tow'rs the sacred Trumpet blows;
Proclaiming their great Feast, all Israel meet,
Thick crouding thro' each dusty Gate and Street;
Strangers and Proselytes, where e'er their Birth,
Whatever part o'th' many Peopled Earth;
Some from the Isles, Crete, Rhodes and Cyprus, some
From double-Sea'd Byzant, and Corinth come;
From the fair Fields with Rivers circled wide,
From Elam and Euphrates flowry side.
262
The Realms of Monobaze and Helen fair;
Strong Adiabene call'd, well known to Fame;
But most from blest Judæa's Regions came;
From Dan, to old Beersheba's fruitful Plain,
From Jazers Sea, to the great Western Main:
These from Phenician Fields their Journey take,
From Tyrus-stairs, and the Cendevian Lake:
Herod, his num'rous Galileans brings
From all his Towns, a Pomp well worthy Kings:
Strong Sephoris, and rich Tiberias send
Their choicest Youth, Sebaste's Lords attend
With Pray'rs for their great Frounder, who his Guests,
On Jordan's Banks, at proud Herodion Feasts;
Who Guarded thence and Honour'd, wait him down,
By Jericho, to Salem's sacred Town:
His rich paternal Palace they prepare,
And rang'd before the Gates, Salute him there;
Nor sooner his approach the Elders know,
But to receive him in long State they go;
The Roman-Guards the same, loud Shouts they made,
Their Eagle on Antonia's Tow'rs display'd:
Not so our Saviour met, nor he desir'd
Vain Honours, or mean wordlly Fame requir'd;
A train of Virtues did the Hero bring,
Unseen officious Angels guard their King.
In vain a private Entry made his choice,
For all Good-men at his approach rejoice:
Ent'ring the Town, he did before him send,
As Harbingers, bold Cephas and his Friend:
These all prepar'd, (nor cou'd they want success,
For where himself he sends, himself he'll bless:)
What Moses, or the Elders did enjoyn,
The Lamb, the Herbs, the Bread, the sacred Wine.
Mean while, the Croud's Hosannas to prevent,
He rounds the Walls by Sion's steep ascent:
In vain their unbespoken Pomp he'd shun,
From every part the gazing People run;
Fame bears the News thro' all the pester'd Gates,
And the vast Town almost depopulates.—
263
The common Benefactor of Mankind;
Triumphant over e'en himself and Fame,
Who wou'd by Virtue only raise his Name;
So when he, envious of himself, wou'd go
Thro' some sav'd Town, or Realm Incognito;
Thro' the vain Cloud his stronger Beams will Shine,
The mortal Form confessing the Divine:
Forth pour thick Floods of Men, the Saviour meet,
And strow thick Flow'rs and Blessings at his Feet.
So here, all press to see his Heav'nly Face,
Nor only now the Hebrews sacred Race;
His growing Fame to Gentile-Worlds is spread,
His Light Divine had struck their Dæmons dead:
The servile Gods to their black Caves retire,
Great Ammon, than his own, now feels a hotter Fire:
Athens, which did from Egypt first convey
Vain Idol-Forms, and spread them wide away
Thro the deluded World, now learns t'adore,
A Soveraign Deity unknown before;
Nor had the Sibyls scap'd 'em; there they find
A Prince whose facile Yoke shou'd bless Mankind,
In scorn'd Judæa born: They thither came,
More by the Savior's Miracles and Fame,
Than the great Feast attracted—
Came with some Tyrian Merchants, Trading down
To new-nam'd Julias, once Bethsaida's Town:
Their Int'rest these, and frank assistance lend,
Since in his humble Court they had a Friend
To introduce 'em; meeting, they embrace;
'Twas Philip, of the Galilean Race,
Whom long they'd known, and ask'd the Liberty,
These Grecian Strangers might his Master see.
He beckons Andrew, both to Jesus went,
And favourably their Request present:
When thus our Lord—Tho' I vain Pomp disclaim,
Nor in my own, but my great Fathers Name
As yet have taught, yet since he's pleas'd t'attest
My weak Mortality, it must be best.
Now is the Hour I shall be truly known,
A glimpse of my paternal Glory's shown;
Now that false Traitor, who from Honor fell,
Yet seiz'd these Worlds, and taught 'em to Rebel,
Transfix'd with vengeful Flames, sinks back t'his destin'd Hell.
But ah! How dear an Empire must I win!
On what a Throne my promis'd Reign begin!
How sad an Exaltation! Yet e'en there,
Will I the ruines of the World repair:
Nor me my Friends, nor them I'll there disown,
But with 'em mount to a far brighter Throne:
The way o'er Rocks and Thorns my self I'll lead,
Nor must they only on Roses think to tread;
Thro' Blood, but 'tis their own, a Crown must gain,
True Hero's Race, enur'd to Sweat and Pain,
Which sweetens all their future peaceful reign.
—Yet still will this relucting Body thrive,
Base Flesh and Blood the servile VVar revive
Against the nobler Spirit, still disgrace
Mans better Form, and stain the Heav'n-born Race;
Still Pain is his aversion—Tho' tis true,
Had he not this, he'd nothing to subdue;
No Merits, no Reward—Do what I can,
My lab'ring Heart has something still of Man;
Fain wou'd avoid th' unequal shock, and fain
Wou'd shrink from this intolerable Pain;
These more then humane Terrors—Father save!
O, if 'tis fit, preserve that Life you gave!
No, 'tis not—I my self a Victim give;
Willing I Die, that rescu'd Man may Live:
Yet, lest they me as an Impostor blame,
E'er I to those blest Regions, whence I came
Return, Dear Father! Glorifie thy Name!
Nor only now the Hebrews sacred Race;
His growing Fame to Gentile-Worlds is spread,
His Light Divine had struck their Dæmons dead:
The servile Gods to their black Caves retire,
Great Ammon, than his own, now feels a hotter Fire:
Athens, which did from Egypt first convey
Vain Idol-Forms, and spread them wide away
Thro the deluded World, now learns t'adore,
A Soveraign Deity unknown before;
Nor had the Sibyls scap'd 'em; there they find
A Prince whose facile Yoke shou'd bless Mankind,
In scorn'd Judæa born: They thither came,
More by the Savior's Miracles and Fame,
Than the great Feast attracted—
Came with some Tyrian Merchants, Trading down
To new-nam'd Julias, once Bethsaida's Town:
Their Int'rest these, and frank assistance lend,
Since in his humble Court they had a Friend
To introduce 'em; meeting, they embrace;
'Twas Philip, of the Galilean Race,
Whom long they'd known, and ask'd the Liberty,
These Grecian Strangers might his Master see.
He beckons Andrew, both to Jesus went,
And favourably their Request present:
When thus our Lord—Tho' I vain Pomp disclaim,
Nor in my own, but my great Fathers Name
As yet have taught, yet since he's pleas'd t'attest
My weak Mortality, it must be best.
Now is the Hour I shall be truly known,
264
Now that false Traitor, who from Honor fell,
Yet seiz'd these Worlds, and taught 'em to Rebel,
Transfix'd with vengeful Flames, sinks back t'his destin'd Hell.
But ah! How dear an Empire must I win!
On what a Throne my promis'd Reign begin!
How sad an Exaltation! Yet e'en there,
Will I the ruines of the World repair:
Nor me my Friends, nor them I'll there disown,
But with 'em mount to a far brighter Throne:
The way o'er Rocks and Thorns my self I'll lead,
Nor must they only on Roses think to tread;
Thro' Blood, but 'tis their own, a Crown must gain,
True Hero's Race, enur'd to Sweat and Pain,
Which sweetens all their future peaceful reign.
—Yet still will this relucting Body thrive,
Base Flesh and Blood the servile VVar revive
Against the nobler Spirit, still disgrace
Mans better Form, and stain the Heav'n-born Race;
Still Pain is his aversion—Tho' tis true,
Had he not this, he'd nothing to subdue;
No Merits, no Reward—Do what I can,
My lab'ring Heart has something still of Man;
Fain wou'd avoid th' unequal shock, and fain
Wou'd shrink from this intolerable Pain;
These more then humane Terrors—Father save!
O, if 'tis fit, preserve that Life you gave!
No, 'tis not—I my self a Victim give;
Willing I Die, that rescu'd Man may Live:
Yet, lest they me as an Impostor blame,
E'er I to those blest Regions, whence I came
Return, Dear Father! Glorifie thy Name!
He said, when strait calm Lambent Lightnings flie,
And sacred Thunder murmurs round the Sky.
Then the dread Voice of God—“As I've already done,
“I thus attest thee still, my lov'd eternal Son!
They heard the awful Sound, they heard it all,
And to the Saviour lowly prostrate fall;
So little their false Homage he desires,
That from the flatt'ring Croud he strait retires;
A Miracle he works to chain their Sense,
And with the Ten, pass undiscover'd thence:
Still more amaz'd they strictly search'd around,
Each Street and Suburb search'd, and had they found,
Had him by force the King of Israel crown'd:
So their great Saul himself, they cry, withdrew,
And wish some Samuel his retirement knew:
For factious Arms, themselves and Friends prepare,
Scarce on the Towr's the Roman Ensigns bear.
Tho' this the thoughtless giddy Crowd alone,
Many o'th' Elders knew, but dar'd not own,
Knew him the Prince design'd for Israels Throne:
On worldly Fame, and Reputation stood;
How hard a thing to be both Great and Good?
Mistaken Fame! if from fair Actions done,
'Tis good; if not, far better lost than won.
Happier the common Race of humane kind,
Happier in this, since for their Eyes or Mind
They no disguises need, vain Forms they break,
And what small Sense they have, they freely speak.
These his Opposers scarce untouch'd endure,
His Foes scarce more than he himself secure;
Tho' he himself their Conduct not approv'd,
Nor Rabble-Reformation ever lov'd:
Int'rest, not Love their partial Votes did sway,
They'd call him King, but not his Laws obey;
Too pure for their gross Tast, too right and just;
Nor he such Subjects wou'd receive or trust.
How e'er his Doctrines more and more prevail,
Still more the Elders false Foundations fail,
Scripture and Reason gone, they only rail:
All things were at the height, the Crisis all,
And his Religion now, or theirs must fall.
And sacred Thunder murmurs round the Sky.
Then the dread Voice of God—“As I've already done,
“I thus attest thee still, my lov'd eternal Son!
They heard the awful Sound, they heard it all,
And to the Saviour lowly prostrate fall;
So little their false Homage he desires,
That from the flatt'ring Croud he strait retires;
265
And with the Ten, pass undiscover'd thence:
Still more amaz'd they strictly search'd around,
Each Street and Suburb search'd, and had they found,
Had him by force the King of Israel crown'd:
So their great Saul himself, they cry, withdrew,
And wish some Samuel his retirement knew:
For factious Arms, themselves and Friends prepare,
Scarce on the Towr's the Roman Ensigns bear.
Tho' this the thoughtless giddy Crowd alone,
Many o'th' Elders knew, but dar'd not own,
Knew him the Prince design'd for Israels Throne:
On worldly Fame, and Reputation stood;
How hard a thing to be both Great and Good?
Mistaken Fame! if from fair Actions done,
'Tis good; if not, far better lost than won.
Happier the common Race of humane kind,
Happier in this, since for their Eyes or Mind
They no disguises need, vain Forms they break,
And what small Sense they have, they freely speak.
These his Opposers scarce untouch'd endure,
His Foes scarce more than he himself secure;
Tho' he himself their Conduct not approv'd,
Nor Rabble-Reformation ever lov'd:
Int'rest, not Love their partial Votes did sway,
They'd call him King, but not his Laws obey;
Too pure for their gross Tast, too right and just;
Nor he such Subjects wou'd receive or trust.
How e'er his Doctrines more and more prevail,
Still more the Elders false Foundations fail,
Scripture and Reason gone, they only rail:
All things were at the height, the Crisis all,
And his Religion now, or theirs must fall.
This saw th' Arch-fiend in his own loathsom Cell;
A Spy thro' Sodom's Lake shot swift to Hell
And brought th' affrightful News, repuls'd before,
The Conclave he resolves to call no more,
Till some great Act atchiev'd, some Mischief done,
So black, as he'd himself not blush to own.
From every Squadron silently he drew,
Such Spirits as he most fit for action knew;
Some from blasphemous Belial did command,
From Moloch some, but most from Envy's band:
Such as all Parties might to his engage;
Some skill'd in raising Tumults, Storms and Rage:
The same that tempted Dathan e'er he fell,
And dragg'd him, yet alive, thro' Earth's black Gulf to Hell.
Some like himself, when cheating facil Eve,
So subtle they'd almost th' Elect deceive:
These guilty Mortals, knew t'illude or fright
With monstrous Forms, and Spectres of the Night:
With Joys impure oft fill'd, with Sloth oppress'd,
Their Guardian Friends away, their Eyes and Breast:
Some Miser Fiends, most sordid and most base,
The lowest sunk of all th' Apostate Race;
These Mines and lone Church-yards, and Treasures hold,
And howl in Tombs around their secret Gold:
Yet these, the nobler Mind do what it can,
Maintain the strongest Party still in Man:
How few are proof against their fatal Arts!
Sure Satan arms with Gold his fiery Darts:
Like those of Love they no distinction make,
Kings, Peasants, Civil, Sacred, all they take;
All but one rank of Men, they ne'er took place,
Ne'er found a Quarry in the tuneful Race:
'Tis strange that Poets are not virtuous still,
Since out of reach of Gold, that Root of ill.
A Spy thro' Sodom's Lake shot swift to Hell
And brought th' affrightful News, repuls'd before,
The Conclave he resolves to call no more,
Till some great Act atchiev'd, some Mischief done,
So black, as he'd himself not blush to own.
From every Squadron silently he drew,
266
Some from blasphemous Belial did command,
From Moloch some, but most from Envy's band:
Such as all Parties might to his engage;
Some skill'd in raising Tumults, Storms and Rage:
The same that tempted Dathan e'er he fell,
And dragg'd him, yet alive, thro' Earth's black Gulf to Hell.
Some like himself, when cheating facil Eve,
So subtle they'd almost th' Elect deceive:
These guilty Mortals, knew t'illude or fright
With monstrous Forms, and Spectres of the Night:
With Joys impure oft fill'd, with Sloth oppress'd,
Their Guardian Friends away, their Eyes and Breast:
Some Miser Fiends, most sordid and most base,
The lowest sunk of all th' Apostate Race;
These Mines and lone Church-yards, and Treasures hold,
And howl in Tombs around their secret Gold:
Yet these, the nobler Mind do what it can,
Maintain the strongest Party still in Man:
How few are proof against their fatal Arts!
Sure Satan arms with Gold his fiery Darts:
Like those of Love they no distinction make,
Kings, Peasants, Civil, Sacred, all they take;
All but one rank of Men, they ne'er took place,
Ne'er found a Quarry in the tuneful Race:
'Tis strange that Poets are not virtuous still,
Since out of reach of Gold, that Root of ill.
These Spirits their Leader, in whose Cause they fell,
Musters in Hast, the strong Gensdarms of Hell;
These Troops of his own Houshold did review;
Then swift to Earth for Mans Destruction flew;
Arriv'd, each takes his Post, which well they knew.
As the sly Tyrant order'd, each conceal,
Lest some kind Angel shou'd to Man reveal
What their design; some did themselves dispose
T'excite their Friends, and some to tempt their Foes:
I'th' foremost Rank, their Leader wings his way,
For Night had now reliev'd the weary Day,
To Salem's Towr's, and as he o'er 'em flew,
A spiteful glance and Curse amongst 'em threw;
Afraid lest the fair City shou'd Repent,
And by their Pray'rs the destin'd Wrath prevent.
To the high Priest's proud Palace did repair,
And like a falling-Star shot headlong there;
The Guards and Gates he penetrating past,
Swift and invisible, and round him cast
The Form of old Hircanus, grave and sage,
The same his Face, his Stature, Meen and Age;
His Voice the same, his Hands a Censer bore,
The sacred Mitre on his Brows he wore.
Musters in Hast, the strong Gensdarms of Hell;
These Troops of his own Houshold did review;
Then swift to Earth for Mans Destruction flew;
Arriv'd, each takes his Post, which well they knew.
As the sly Tyrant order'd, each conceal,
Lest some kind Angel shou'd to Man reveal
What their design; some did themselves dispose
T'excite their Friends, and some to tempt their Foes:
I'th' foremost Rank, their Leader wings his way,
For Night had now reliev'd the weary Day,
To Salem's Towr's, and as he o'er 'em flew,
A spiteful glance and Curse amongst 'em threw;
267
And by their Pray'rs the destin'd Wrath prevent.
To the high Priest's proud Palace did repair,
And like a falling-Star shot headlong there;
The Guards and Gates he penetrating past,
Swift and invisible, and round him cast
The Form of old Hircanus, grave and sage,
The same his Face, his Stature, Meen and Age;
His Voice the same, his Hands a Censer bore,
The sacred Mitre on his Brows he wore.
In still and deep Repose the Pontiff lay,
Tir'd with the Work and Pleasures of the Day;
Stern Caiphas—The Fiend approach'd his Bed,
And leaning on his Hand, his Palsy'd Head,
With loud and lamentable Voice he said;
“Awake my Son! Is't thus your Flocks you keep?
Or now Awake or else for ever Sleep!
But canst thou Sleep?—Yes—Canst thou stoop so low,
To yield the glorious Day without a Blow,
—T'our Laws, our Nations and our Temples Foe?
Who now, by your remissness, fierce and proud,
Heads dark Cabals among the factious Crowd.
All that is Sacred, left without defence,
You violate my Tomb, and raise me thence.
Was it for this my great Forefathers broke
A Strangers Chains, shook off the Heathen Yoke?
For this like Bulwarks round their Country stood,
And shed such Seas of honourable Blood?
O ye great Maccabees! too dear it cost,
To purchase what your Sons have tamely lost:
Say, did Hircanus thus your Line disgrace,
Or act a thing beneath your glorious Race?
He grasp'd the Censer and the Sword you bore,
Your Mitre and your Diadem he wore;
Spite of ill Fortune he preserv'd your Fame,
Nor trembled e'en at mighty Pompey's name.
Scarce half his Pow'r his weak Successors share;
Nor only you the Roman Thraldom bear:
(Since Manly 'tis to yield, if Men subdue)
But e'en a weak Enchanter conquers you;
If ought by Herbs and pow'rful Names h'has done,
To Solomon's wise Sons it can't b'unknown:
Yet still he Lives, you the blind Crowd forsakes,
And droves of Proselytes each hou'r he makes:
These will he soon to greater Things persuade,
The Sanhedrim and sacred Throne invade:
Hast then—The Crown and Royal Ensigns bring,
The Galilæan Carpenter's your King.
Tir'd with the Work and Pleasures of the Day;
Stern Caiphas—The Fiend approach'd his Bed,
And leaning on his Hand, his Palsy'd Head,
With loud and lamentable Voice he said;
“Awake my Son! Is't thus your Flocks you keep?
Or now Awake or else for ever Sleep!
But canst thou Sleep?—Yes—Canst thou stoop so low,
To yield the glorious Day without a Blow,
—T'our Laws, our Nations and our Temples Foe?
Who now, by your remissness, fierce and proud,
Heads dark Cabals among the factious Crowd.
All that is Sacred, left without defence,
You violate my Tomb, and raise me thence.
Was it for this my great Forefathers broke
A Strangers Chains, shook off the Heathen Yoke?
For this like Bulwarks round their Country stood,
And shed such Seas of honourable Blood?
O ye great Maccabees! too dear it cost,
To purchase what your Sons have tamely lost:
Say, did Hircanus thus your Line disgrace,
Or act a thing beneath your glorious Race?
He grasp'd the Censer and the Sword you bore,
Your Mitre and your Diadem he wore;
Spite of ill Fortune he preserv'd your Fame,
Nor trembled e'en at mighty Pompey's name.
Scarce half his Pow'r his weak Successors share;
Nor only you the Roman Thraldom bear:
(Since Manly 'tis to yield, if Men subdue)
But e'en a weak Enchanter conquers you;
268
To Solomon's wise Sons it can't b'unknown:
Yet still he Lives, you the blind Crowd forsakes,
And droves of Proselytes each hou'r he makes:
These will he soon to greater Things persuade,
The Sanhedrim and sacred Throne invade:
Hast then—The Crown and Royal Ensigns bring,
The Galilæan Carpenter's your King.
—But shall he be, or are my Fears in vain?
O'er none but Slaves, a Slave deserves to reign:
Tho' yet he do's not—Israel yet is free,
And will, I know, maintain their Liberty;
Quench the new-kindled Flame, and pull this Serpent down,
Before he higher leaps and gets a Crown:
—Hast then, and tho' past Ills you can't redress
Him, Meditating more, secure, oppress!
Or there dispatch, or else t'his Fate convey,
To purge the Town on this great festal Day;
Call you the Sanhedrim, I'll find the way.
O'er none but Slaves, a Slave deserves to reign:
Tho' yet he do's not—Israel yet is free,
And will, I know, maintain their Liberty;
Quench the new-kindled Flame, and pull this Serpent down,
Before he higher leaps and gets a Crown:
—Hast then, and tho' past Ills you can't redress
Him, Meditating more, secure, oppress!
Or there dispatch, or else t'his Fate convey,
To purge the Town on this great festal Day;
Call you the Sanhedrim, I'll find the way.
He said and sunk—The Pontiff rais'd his Eyes,
And looking gastly round, My Guards, he cries;
All in cold Sweats—Yes, mighty sacred Shade,
Thy kind, thy wholsom Counsel shall b'obey'd:
He Lives no longer, his sure Fate is past,
'Tis done, and this succeeding Day's his last.
And looking gastly round, My Guards, he cries;
All in cold Sweats—Yes, mighty sacred Shade,
Thy kind, thy wholsom Counsel shall b'obey'd:
He Lives no longer, his sure Fate is past,
'Tis done, and this succeeding Day's his last.
His ent'ring Guards he round the City sends,
And calls to Council his confiding Friends.
The Elders, and the Priests of greater sway,
Each did their numerous subject Course obey:
Pressing Affairs did their wise Councils need,
They must attend, with silence and with speed:
Yet not so close they the dark Message do,
But Joseph and the wise Gamaliel knew:
To Council they among the rest repair,
And meet their Friend, sage Nicodemus there.
All present, Caiaphas ascends the Chair,
And thus began—“You'll, Fathers! soon believe,
Not without Cause, I thus disturbance give
T'th' Honourable House, nor need I fear,
The just Occasion known, from any here
Reproof for this Assembly. But too well,
All who are Lovers of our Israel,
The growth of Nazareth's curst Sect perceive,
On their Impostor, the whole World believe;
How undeplor'd our own and Nations Fate,
Unless we help, if help's not yet too late:
—If nothing us our Countries danger move,
(Tho' no Good-man but must his Country love;)
If we these Walls can leave, and see our Place,
And Honour fill'd by a vile Earth-born Race;
So humbly, or so meanly quit our Seat,
And live without a Name, obscurely Great;
If we all this might kindly give away,
Our Laws, our sacred Laws, we can't betray.
There there the Venom lurks, at these he drives,
Their Ruine he in close Cabals contrives;
Th' abhorr'd of Nazareth—
The word promulg'd by Angels he'd repeal,
A better Law than Moses did, reveal;
Unletter'd Peasant he, assuming thus
A Pow'r unknown, must teach the World and Us.
The Crowd, 'tis true, his Miracles proclaim;
But did not Egypt's Juglers do the same?
Spite of our Sense, our Reason still is free,
Nor are we, were it not, at Liberty:
For wond'rous Signs our Law we must not leave,
Nor a false Prophet, tempted thus, receive:
Shou'd he prevail, which O avert! ye Pow'rs
That rule the World, his Laws exchang'd for ours;
What shou'd we gain? What has he more compleat,
Then our great Prophet? What Sublime or Great!
For Carpenters or Fishermen they'll do,
But Fathers, not for such as Us and You;
Rulers, and Warriors, to brave deeds inclin'd;
These clog the Soul and sink the rising Mind:
Expos'd t'Affronts, you must the Giver spare,
Nay Love, they teach you nothing but to bear:
Now sunk too low, he strait too high aspires,
And strange impracticable heights requires;
He wou'd not have us men, but spite of Fate,
Be neither pleas'd or angry, love or hate;
Not e'en our Thoughts, our Sense, our Reason free,
Clogg'd with unnat'ral Laws and Mystery:
No Rule he will, besides his own endure,
Where his obtains, no Government's secure:
Our Nations Crimes and Fate, his daily Themes,
And God and us alike, th' abhorr'd Blasphemes.
Not e'en our blest eternal Temple spares;
Nor more the Heathen or Samaria dares
Our Pow'r to censure, his proud Sect disown,
Our Curses lost in Air, or backward thrown;
Serpents and Vipers this high Court he calls,
Sly Hypocrites, gay Tombs and whited Walls:
This his Respect, thus Fathers, us he treats;
'Tis a small Crime that with th' unclean he Eats:
All our Traditions broke; in vain we grieve,
Corban and he together cannot live:
Yet more, beyond what's Mortal he presumes,
The awful Name of God himself assumes;
With the unrival'd Father equal he,
The Son, the Word, born from Eternity:
If he impunely this, if still we bear,
How can we but deserve a Fate, severe
As what th' Impostor threatens?—How can we
Our Selves, our Children and our Nation free,
From the black Guilt and Fate of Blasphemy?
This restless Troubler of our Israel dies;
This fatal Achan we must sacrifice:
—And if the sacred Ephod ought inspire,
I feel the glowing sparks of Heav'nly Fire:
Then hear what my enlighten'd Mind foresees!
Can that be bad which Heav'n it self decrees?
“Israel in vain thy Fate thou dost attempt to flie,
“Unless for all thy Sons, one Man devoted die.
And calls to Council his confiding Friends.
The Elders, and the Priests of greater sway,
Each did their numerous subject Course obey:
Pressing Affairs did their wise Councils need,
They must attend, with silence and with speed:
Yet not so close they the dark Message do,
But Joseph and the wise Gamaliel knew:
To Council they among the rest repair,
And meet their Friend, sage Nicodemus there.
All present, Caiaphas ascends the Chair,
And thus began—“You'll, Fathers! soon believe,
Not without Cause, I thus disturbance give
T'th' Honourable House, nor need I fear,
The just Occasion known, from any here
269
All who are Lovers of our Israel,
The growth of Nazareth's curst Sect perceive,
On their Impostor, the whole World believe;
How undeplor'd our own and Nations Fate,
Unless we help, if help's not yet too late:
—If nothing us our Countries danger move,
(Tho' no Good-man but must his Country love;)
If we these Walls can leave, and see our Place,
And Honour fill'd by a vile Earth-born Race;
So humbly, or so meanly quit our Seat,
And live without a Name, obscurely Great;
If we all this might kindly give away,
Our Laws, our sacred Laws, we can't betray.
There there the Venom lurks, at these he drives,
Their Ruine he in close Cabals contrives;
Th' abhorr'd of Nazareth—
The word promulg'd by Angels he'd repeal,
A better Law than Moses did, reveal;
Unletter'd Peasant he, assuming thus
A Pow'r unknown, must teach the World and Us.
The Crowd, 'tis true, his Miracles proclaim;
But did not Egypt's Juglers do the same?
Spite of our Sense, our Reason still is free,
Nor are we, were it not, at Liberty:
For wond'rous Signs our Law we must not leave,
Nor a false Prophet, tempted thus, receive:
Shou'd he prevail, which O avert! ye Pow'rs
That rule the World, his Laws exchang'd for ours;
What shou'd we gain? What has he more compleat,
Then our great Prophet? What Sublime or Great!
For Carpenters or Fishermen they'll do,
But Fathers, not for such as Us and You;
Rulers, and Warriors, to brave deeds inclin'd;
These clog the Soul and sink the rising Mind:
Expos'd t'Affronts, you must the Giver spare,
Nay Love, they teach you nothing but to bear:
Now sunk too low, he strait too high aspires,
And strange impracticable heights requires;
He wou'd not have us men, but spite of Fate,
270
Not e'en our Thoughts, our Sense, our Reason free,
Clogg'd with unnat'ral Laws and Mystery:
No Rule he will, besides his own endure,
Where his obtains, no Government's secure:
Our Nations Crimes and Fate, his daily Themes,
And God and us alike, th' abhorr'd Blasphemes.
Not e'en our blest eternal Temple spares;
Nor more the Heathen or Samaria dares
Our Pow'r to censure, his proud Sect disown,
Our Curses lost in Air, or backward thrown;
Serpents and Vipers this high Court he calls,
Sly Hypocrites, gay Tombs and whited Walls:
This his Respect, thus Fathers, us he treats;
'Tis a small Crime that with th' unclean he Eats:
All our Traditions broke; in vain we grieve,
Corban and he together cannot live:
Yet more, beyond what's Mortal he presumes,
The awful Name of God himself assumes;
With the unrival'd Father equal he,
The Son, the Word, born from Eternity:
If he impunely this, if still we bear,
How can we but deserve a Fate, severe
As what th' Impostor threatens?—How can we
Our Selves, our Children and our Nation free,
From the black Guilt and Fate of Blasphemy?
This restless Troubler of our Israel dies;
This fatal Achan we must sacrifice:
—And if the sacred Ephod ought inspire,
I feel the glowing sparks of Heav'nly Fire:
Then hear what my enlighten'd Mind foresees!
Can that be bad which Heav'n it self decrees?
“Israel in vain thy Fate thou dost attempt to flie,
“Unless for all thy Sons, one Man devoted die.
He said, then to debates the matter leaves;
The Sanhedrim with different Tasts receives
His warm Oration, some his Zeal admire;
The Soul of Phinehas sure must him inspire;
The Church can never pay too much esteem,
T'had sunk infallibly, if not for him.
While those who look'd with more impartial Eyes,
Saw thro' with ease, the thin, tho' neat Disguise;
Saw all vain Sophistry and specious Lyes:
Yet none dar'd stem the muddy Torrent, none,
Till prudent Nicodemus, bolder grown,
Thus rising spake—“With all submission due,
And just respect t'his Holiness and you;
Men! Brethren! Fathers! a few Words I'd add,
To what's with so much Zeal already said.
Well has it been observ'd, and none denies,
Our Laws are Sacred, the Blasphemer dies
Convict by these, but the same Laws take care,
We none condemn till his Defence we hear.
Who cou'd be safe, might pop'lar Fame accuse?
None here, I dare be bold, that Judg wou'd chuse:
—Not that an Advocate I'd e'er be thought,
For any who my Countries ruin sought;
But Truth and Justice this—He had gone on,
But the brave Lord of Rama's ancient Town,
Thus fervent interrupts him—Why should we
Asham'd of so Divine a Master be?
Let Naked Truth prevail, plain nat'ral Sence,
Without the gaudy Paint of Eloquence.
I own him, I confess him—Lord, I'm thine!
(Tho' sordid Interest or Pride repine:)
He came from Heav'n, and all his Laws Divine.
What e'er the Sacrifice, I'll him adore,
I love my Country much, but Justice more;
He Laws refix? with God's blest VVill dispense?
And Word?—The most improbable pretence,
On which e'er suffer'd spotless Innocence.
Can he Blaspheme the Heav'n he hope's t'enjoy?
Can he God's Temple build, and yet destroy?
How oft to Law and Prophets he appeals,
My self I've heard, nor other Truths reveals,
But what within our sacred Volumes lie,
Tho' veil'd till now in Clouds and Mystery.
How oft (agen I my own Witness give;
You us'd not Fathers, me to disbelieve!)
Declar'd one Tittle shou'd not pass away,
Till this vast Frame of Heav'n and Earth decay!
Eternal Truths must our short World survive,
Writ on our Souls as long as Souls can live.
These may be blotted, tho' they can't be raz'd,
He graves 'em new when by our Crimes defac'd:
Sure we're but Men, nor all things all discern;
Are we too wise from Heav'n it self to learn?
When the Oraculous Ephod us'd to shine,
Did any doubt the Characters Divine?
Say not 'tis ceas'd, see here decipher'd still,
More plain and legible, the Father's Will!
Th' Eternal Word does mortal Mould assume,
Our wretched Clay—Does he in this presume?
Announc'd from Heav'n t'instruct the World he came;
Cou'd e'er Impostor yet pretend the same?
Or shou'd they Honour, they, or Profit seek;
But Zions King is humble, lowly, meek:
Lowly, yet Great, all here beneath a God;
He treads on Crowns as on the Stars he trod:
If we Heav'ns attestation shou'd deny,
Twice spoke in Thunder from th' opening Sky,
In all, the Son of God distinctly shown,
In all did him th' Eternal Father own:
We Moses too must leave, in Clouds and Smoak;
But once from Heav'n the Ten dread Words were spoke.
The Sanhedrim with different Tasts receives
His warm Oration, some his Zeal admire;
The Soul of Phinehas sure must him inspire;
The Church can never pay too much esteem,
T'had sunk infallibly, if not for him.
271
Saw thro' with ease, the thin, tho' neat Disguise;
Saw all vain Sophistry and specious Lyes:
Yet none dar'd stem the muddy Torrent, none,
Till prudent Nicodemus, bolder grown,
Thus rising spake—“With all submission due,
And just respect t'his Holiness and you;
Men! Brethren! Fathers! a few Words I'd add,
To what's with so much Zeal already said.
Well has it been observ'd, and none denies,
Our Laws are Sacred, the Blasphemer dies
Convict by these, but the same Laws take care,
We none condemn till his Defence we hear.
Who cou'd be safe, might pop'lar Fame accuse?
None here, I dare be bold, that Judg wou'd chuse:
—Not that an Advocate I'd e'er be thought,
For any who my Countries ruin sought;
But Truth and Justice this—He had gone on,
But the brave Lord of Rama's ancient Town,
Thus fervent interrupts him—Why should we
Asham'd of so Divine a Master be?
Let Naked Truth prevail, plain nat'ral Sence,
Without the gaudy Paint of Eloquence.
I own him, I confess him—Lord, I'm thine!
(Tho' sordid Interest or Pride repine:)
He came from Heav'n, and all his Laws Divine.
What e'er the Sacrifice, I'll him adore,
I love my Country much, but Justice more;
He Laws refix? with God's blest VVill dispense?
And Word?—The most improbable pretence,
On which e'er suffer'd spotless Innocence.
Can he Blaspheme the Heav'n he hope's t'enjoy?
Can he God's Temple build, and yet destroy?
How oft to Law and Prophets he appeals,
My self I've heard, nor other Truths reveals,
But what within our sacred Volumes lie,
Tho' veil'd till now in Clouds and Mystery.
How oft (agen I my own Witness give;
You us'd not Fathers, me to disbelieve!)
Declar'd one Tittle shou'd not pass away,
272
Eternal Truths must our short World survive,
Writ on our Souls as long as Souls can live.
These may be blotted, tho' they can't be raz'd,
He graves 'em new when by our Crimes defac'd:
Sure we're but Men, nor all things all discern;
Are we too wise from Heav'n it self to learn?
When the Oraculous Ephod us'd to shine,
Did any doubt the Characters Divine?
Say not 'tis ceas'd, see here decipher'd still,
More plain and legible, the Father's Will!
Th' Eternal Word does mortal Mould assume,
Our wretched Clay—Does he in this presume?
Announc'd from Heav'n t'instruct the World he came;
Cou'd e'er Impostor yet pretend the same?
Or shou'd they Honour, they, or Profit seek;
But Zions King is humble, lowly, meek:
Lowly, yet Great, all here beneath a God;
He treads on Crowns as on the Stars he trod:
If we Heav'ns attestation shou'd deny,
Twice spoke in Thunder from th' opening Sky,
In all, the Son of God distinctly shown,
In all did him th' Eternal Father own:
We Moses too must leave, in Clouds and Smoak;
But once from Heav'n the Ten dread Words were spoke.
But Egypts Juglers wond'rous Signs did shew,
'Tis own'd; but did not our Great Moses too?
And yet you all confess his Mission clear;
Assign the difference and we'll find it here.
Theirs for false Gods and Idols vain were wrought,
The other in Defence of Truth were brought:
T'attest the one Supreme, their Charms o'erpowr'd,
As th' active Hebrew Serpent theirs devour'd.
Further, 'twas long foreshown, the chosen Band
Shou'd deep enslav'd remain in Mizraim's Land,
Till manumitted thence by God's own dread Right-hand.
Truth, Prophesies, and many a wond'rous Sign,
Beyond dispute, attest our Lord Divine:
What Rabby, e'er so clearly taught before,
In Spirit and Truth, the one true God t'adore?
Not all things Moses saw, we something need,
Beside, why did the Prophets else succeed?
Another Teacher why himself foreshow,
If from his Laws the World did all things know;
Jesus this Teacher, true if God be true,
For none but God such mighty Works cou'd do;
His Doctrines rather are renew'd, than new.
We'd Gold at first, but he refines our Gold,
And his New Law, fills and explains the Old:
The Piece before was masterly and fine,
But he Life-touches gives, and makes it more Divine.
Death their desert, the heavy threatning fear!
So Moses self, who him refuse to hear.
How many a Prophet sings, how full and plain,
Of the Messiah's wond'rous Birth and Reign.
His wond'rous Works? if need of proof there be,
Ev'n Caiaphas has own'd that this is He;
All Time and Place, and Ages him confess,
All wait him now—Shall Isr'el then do less?
In every part of Natures System found;
That VVorld he made, by him together bound.
So just his Laws, shou'd Heav'n no witness give,
Right Reason wou'd oblige us to believe:
Shall we Heav'ns condescension then abuse,
Since over-weight it gives us, all refuse?
So just his Laws, that were they but obey'd,
The World wou'd soon a Paradise be made:
If mean, may I that meanness ever have!
Still may my Passion be my Reasons slave,
Above all Wrongs, like all the Great and Brave:
Above my self as well as others live,
Still I'm a Conqu'ror if I still forgive:
He that dares die, die scorn'd and tortur'd too,
But dares not an unhandsom Action do;
He that dares own his Friend, tho' far disjoin'd,
And absent long, tho' Earth and Hell combin'd,
Satan and Sanhedrims against him sworn,
By two whole Worlds vast weight not overborn:
Equal, nay still superior, still secure;
Myriads of Fiends assault, unmov'd endure:
Myriads of Men almost as black defie,
Impregnable in his own Honesty;
Nought but his Soul and Honour cares to save—
—If such as he be base—The World is brave.
'Tis own'd; but did not our Great Moses too?
And yet you all confess his Mission clear;
Assign the difference and we'll find it here.
Theirs for false Gods and Idols vain were wrought,
The other in Defence of Truth were brought:
T'attest the one Supreme, their Charms o'erpowr'd,
As th' active Hebrew Serpent theirs devour'd.
Further, 'twas long foreshown, the chosen Band
Shou'd deep enslav'd remain in Mizraim's Land,
Till manumitted thence by God's own dread Right-hand.
Truth, Prophesies, and many a wond'rous Sign,
Beyond dispute, attest our Lord Divine:
What Rabby, e'er so clearly taught before,
In Spirit and Truth, the one true God t'adore?
273
Beside, why did the Prophets else succeed?
Another Teacher why himself foreshow,
If from his Laws the World did all things know;
Jesus this Teacher, true if God be true,
For none but God such mighty Works cou'd do;
His Doctrines rather are renew'd, than new.
We'd Gold at first, but he refines our Gold,
And his New Law, fills and explains the Old:
The Piece before was masterly and fine,
But he Life-touches gives, and makes it more Divine.
Death their desert, the heavy threatning fear!
So Moses self, who him refuse to hear.
How many a Prophet sings, how full and plain,
Of the Messiah's wond'rous Birth and Reign.
His wond'rous Works? if need of proof there be,
Ev'n Caiaphas has own'd that this is He;
All Time and Place, and Ages him confess,
All wait him now—Shall Isr'el then do less?
In every part of Natures System found;
That VVorld he made, by him together bound.
So just his Laws, shou'd Heav'n no witness give,
Right Reason wou'd oblige us to believe:
Shall we Heav'ns condescension then abuse,
Since over-weight it gives us, all refuse?
So just his Laws, that were they but obey'd,
The World wou'd soon a Paradise be made:
If mean, may I that meanness ever have!
Still may my Passion be my Reasons slave,
Above all Wrongs, like all the Great and Brave:
Above my self as well as others live,
Still I'm a Conqu'ror if I still forgive:
He that dares die, die scorn'd and tortur'd too,
But dares not an unhandsom Action do;
He that dares own his Friend, tho' far disjoin'd,
And absent long, tho' Earth and Hell combin'd,
Satan and Sanhedrims against him sworn,
By two whole Worlds vast weight not overborn:
Equal, nay still superior, still secure;
Myriads of Fiends assault, unmov'd endure:
274
Impregnable in his own Honesty;
Nought but his Soul and Honour cares to save—
—If such as he be base—The World is brave.
No, his worst Foes ne'er thought him base or mean;
What e'er their Words—Why change they else the Scene?
Why else that he requires such Heights complain,
As weak humanity attempts in vain?
The World too good he'd make, too pure his Law—
—In Modesty that shameful Plea withdraw!
Yet here it sticks—Who can such strictness bear?
We must not steal, nor rail, nor lye, nor swear.
A spotless Breast he loves, his Laws require
To tame the Rage of Anger and Desire:
Manly and just they ask, and give no less,
Than height of Virtue, and of Happiness;
They're possible, convenient, easie, free,
Nat'ral as undissembled Piety:
What Nature or true Reason can't receive,
He neither bids us practise, nor believe:
If sunk below our proper Selves in Vice,
Or Folly we, he comes, as great as Wise,
To raise us to the state of Paradise.
Who e'er did the three Principles deny,
Gentile or Jew, nor other Mystery
Unknown to us, the whole of his contains,
The rest the vain device of fabling Brains.
What e'er their Words—Why change they else the Scene?
Why else that he requires such Heights complain,
As weak humanity attempts in vain?
The World too good he'd make, too pure his Law—
—In Modesty that shameful Plea withdraw!
Yet here it sticks—Who can such strictness bear?
We must not steal, nor rail, nor lye, nor swear.
A spotless Breast he loves, his Laws require
To tame the Rage of Anger and Desire:
Manly and just they ask, and give no less,
Than height of Virtue, and of Happiness;
They're possible, convenient, easie, free,
Nat'ral as undissembled Piety:
What Nature or true Reason can't receive,
He neither bids us practise, nor believe:
If sunk below our proper Selves in Vice,
Or Folly we, he comes, as great as Wise,
To raise us to the state of Paradise.
Who e'er did the three Principles deny,
Gentile or Jew, nor other Mystery
Unknown to us, the whole of his contains,
The rest the vain device of fabling Brains.
But above all the Slanders which rebound,
And like their Curses, those which cast 'em wound;
None so ill-said, tho' deadly, as that he
Is to all Government an Enemy.
Can Orders self Confusion e'er approve?
(As justly may the Hawk implead the Dove,)
War suit the Prince of Peace, or Hate with Heav'n-born Love.
If he one Lord proclaims, one Faith requires,
The same our Church believes, the same desires;
Yet rational and free he leaves us still,
No Force upon the Intellect or Will:
The still small Voice of Reason warns from Sin
Lost Man without, his gentle Spirit within.
His Follow'rs bids with tenderness reprove;
No Argument so strong, so soft as Love.
Ev'n the poor Publican he'll not disdain;
None that repents refuse to entertain:
Yet hates a Hypocrite, all Hearts he knows,
The secret Villain seldom fails t'expose:
With these he can almost be angry; These
He oft declares Heav'ns righteous Plagues shall seize:
Our guilty Land, if in their Crimes resolv'd,
Avert it Heav'n! in the same Fate involv'd.
Why will you not the Surgeons Hand endure,
To launce the VVound which yet admits a Cure?
Will the All-high from Dust a Check receive,
Nor thunder, till the Creature gives him leave?
Can he blaspheme himself, or is h'affraid
Of Laws which his poor crawling Worms have made?
Hear my Confession then, 'tis plain and free,
Once more the Word is God, and Jesus He:
In mortal Form, Flesh clouds th' Eternal Sun,
Like humane Soul and Body, two in one.
Hence, tho' the Pontiff urges, 'tis Decreed,
That for our Sins, this spotless Lamb shou'd bleed;
This can, to ill nor force us, nor excuse;
Fig-leaves like these ev'n Adam wou'd not use:
To us unknown the secret Laws of Fate,
Move us they may, but not necessitate.
Reason with Truth reveal'd our steps must guide,
Else you defend the blackest Paricide;
Else Heav'ns the Principal, more deep by far,
But Accessaries we in Murders are.
And like their Curses, those which cast 'em wound;
None so ill-said, tho' deadly, as that he
Is to all Government an Enemy.
Can Orders self Confusion e'er approve?
(As justly may the Hawk implead the Dove,)
War suit the Prince of Peace, or Hate with Heav'n-born Love.
If he one Lord proclaims, one Faith requires,
The same our Church believes, the same desires;
Yet rational and free he leaves us still,
No Force upon the Intellect or Will:
The still small Voice of Reason warns from Sin
Lost Man without, his gentle Spirit within.
275
No Argument so strong, so soft as Love.
Ev'n the poor Publican he'll not disdain;
None that repents refuse to entertain:
Yet hates a Hypocrite, all Hearts he knows,
The secret Villain seldom fails t'expose:
With these he can almost be angry; These
He oft declares Heav'ns righteous Plagues shall seize:
Our guilty Land, if in their Crimes resolv'd,
Avert it Heav'n! in the same Fate involv'd.
Why will you not the Surgeons Hand endure,
To launce the VVound which yet admits a Cure?
Will the All-high from Dust a Check receive,
Nor thunder, till the Creature gives him leave?
Can he blaspheme himself, or is h'affraid
Of Laws which his poor crawling Worms have made?
Hear my Confession then, 'tis plain and free,
Once more the Word is God, and Jesus He:
In mortal Form, Flesh clouds th' Eternal Sun,
Like humane Soul and Body, two in one.
Hence, tho' the Pontiff urges, 'tis Decreed,
That for our Sins, this spotless Lamb shou'd bleed;
This can, to ill nor force us, nor excuse;
Fig-leaves like these ev'n Adam wou'd not use:
To us unknown the secret Laws of Fate,
Move us they may, but not necessitate.
Reason with Truth reveal'd our steps must guide,
Else you defend the blackest Paricide;
Else Heav'ns the Principal, more deep by far,
But Accessaries we in Murders are.
Since then 'tis plain, that this just Man is free
From all those Ills that Spite or Calumny
Conjoin'd wou'd blast him with, nay since far more
He's the Messiah promis'd long before;
The Lord, the God whom Israel ought t'adore:
O rather kiss the Son, just Presents send,
Avert the threaten'd Wrath, what's past amend,
And he'll forgive, engag'd your mighty Friend.
From all those Ills that Spite or Calumny
Conjoin'd wou'd blast him with, nay since far more
He's the Messiah promis'd long before;
The Lord, the God whom Israel ought t'adore:
O rather kiss the Son, just Presents send,
Avert the threaten'd Wrath, what's past amend,
And he'll forgive, engag'd your mighty Friend.
Undaunted, Joseph thus—The Senate gaz'd,
All, mute, most pleas'd; some angry, all amaz'd:
All, mute, most pleas'd; some angry, all amaz'd:
276
So, when rough Boreas! thy black Squadrons sweep,
The aged Bosom of th' Atlantick Deep;
Convolv'd, the foaming angry Surges rise,
The loud Gigantick Waves invade the Skies:
But when blest Zephyr from his spicy Vales,
Rides gently out with soft Etesion Gales;
The Billows husht, lie panting on the shore,
Appeas'd, the factious Floods forget to roar,
And smiling, wonder why they rag'd before.
The aged Bosom of th' Atlantick Deep;
Convolv'd, the foaming angry Surges rise,
The loud Gigantick Waves invade the Skies:
But when blest Zephyr from his spicy Vales,
Rides gently out with soft Etesion Gales;
The Billows husht, lie panting on the shore,
Appeas'd, the factious Floods forget to roar,
And smiling, wonder why they rag'd before.
Dazled with Truth, so here their Passions yield,
And Reason had almost regain'd the Field;
All but fierce Caiaphas, who frowning by,
Wou'd nothing grant, yet nothing cou'd deny:
Asham'd, not griev'd, he in the Cause engag'd;
Silenc'd, confounded, baffled, more enrag'd:
Yet soon his stedfast Brow and Voice regains,
Argues, reproves, denounces and complains;
Unknowing to repent, all limits he
Transgresses, both of Truth and Decency.
Now Right, now Wrong, th' unsteddy Senate sway'd,
Their Conscience now, their Int'rest now obey'd:
Still who speaks lasts speaks best, or the Debate,
At least by Numbers manag'd, not by Weight;
Equally furious in their Love or Hate.
And Reason had almost regain'd the Field;
All but fierce Caiaphas, who frowning by,
Wou'd nothing grant, yet nothing cou'd deny:
Asham'd, not griev'd, he in the Cause engag'd;
Silenc'd, confounded, baffled, more enrag'd:
Yet soon his stedfast Brow and Voice regains,
Argues, reproves, denounces and complains;
Unknowing to repent, all limits he
Transgresses, both of Truth and Decency.
Now Right, now Wrong, th' unsteddy Senate sway'd,
Their Conscience now, their Int'rest now obey'd:
Still who speaks lasts speaks best, or the Debate,
At least by Numbers manag'd, not by Weight;
Equally furious in their Love or Hate.
While here contending Minds and Int'rests fright,
Under the shelter of the silent Night,
Our Lord, who knew the Pow'r and Rage of Hell,
Takes his last Supper and his last Farewel;
Did his weak Friends, and the false Traitor know,
Yet, mild, submits, since Heav'n wou'd have it so.
Under the shelter of the silent Night,
Our Lord, who knew the Pow'r and Rage of Hell,
Takes his last Supper and his last Farewel;
Did his weak Friends, and the false Traitor know,
Yet, mild, submits, since Heav'n wou'd have it so.
First on the Lamb, as Use requires, they fed,
As their Forefathers, when from Egypt led,
The Cup of Blessing then, and hallow'd Bread,
In his bless'd Hands our Saviour deigns to take,
To his Disciples Gives, and thus he spake.
As their Forefathers, when from Egypt led,
The Cup of Blessing then, and hallow'd Bread,
In his bless'd Hands our Saviour deigns to take,
To his Disciples Gives, and thus he spake.
“Take, Eat! this is my Body, soon design'd,
A painful Sacrifice for lost Mankind!
This my Memorial when from Earth I'm gone.
The hallow'd Goblet next, and thus goes on;
This is my Blood, for Man's Redemption shed,
Drink all of this, as all receiv'd the Bread!
I go, the Traitor and my Fate I know,
But woe to that lost Wretch by whom I go!
He's lurking here, his Hand is on the Board,
He eats my Bread, and yet betrays his Lord!
A painful Sacrifice for lost Mankind!
This my Memorial when from Earth I'm gone.
The hallow'd Goblet next, and thus goes on;
This is my Blood, for Man's Redemption shed,
277
I go, the Traitor and my Fate I know,
But woe to that lost Wretch by whom I go!
He's lurking here, his Hand is on the Board,
He eats my Bread, and yet betrays his Lord!
Each, jealous for himself with honest care,
Trembling enquires if he the Traitor were?
Iscariot with the rest, guilt in his Eyes
And double-faultring Tongue—Our Lord replies,
Thy self thou know'st, and canst too well divine;
To these my Friends the Sop shall be the Sign.
He, that receiv'd, departs, and leaves the rest:
Whole Satan in his avaritious Breast:
Himself to th' wav'ring Sanhedrim addrest.
This fair occasion soon decides the strife,
The Traitor bargains for his Masters Life.
The few good Men, who fearless did remain,
Against the Stream a while, stood firm in vain,
And when no more they cou'd their ground maintain,
Protesting, left the House; the Wretch demands
A Band of Men, and safely to their Hands
He'd him deliver, he his Haunts did know,
And cou'd to th' very place directly go:
He thirty Pieces only asks, Content
To serve 'em for the small Acknowledgment.
Ravish'd with wicked Joy they all provide,
Eager to follow their accursed Guide:
Mean while our Lord, well knowing Grief and Fear
Opprest his Friends, his fatal Hour so near;
Thus, Sad himself, to them did Comfort give:
Trembling enquires if he the Traitor were?
Iscariot with the rest, guilt in his Eyes
And double-faultring Tongue—Our Lord replies,
Thy self thou know'st, and canst too well divine;
To these my Friends the Sop shall be the Sign.
He, that receiv'd, departs, and leaves the rest:
Whole Satan in his avaritious Breast:
Himself to th' wav'ring Sanhedrim addrest.
This fair occasion soon decides the strife,
The Traitor bargains for his Masters Life.
The few good Men, who fearless did remain,
Against the Stream a while, stood firm in vain,
And when no more they cou'd their ground maintain,
Protesting, left the House; the Wretch demands
A Band of Men, and safely to their Hands
He'd him deliver, he his Haunts did know,
And cou'd to th' very place directly go:
He thirty Pieces only asks, Content
To serve 'em for the small Acknowledgment.
Ravish'd with wicked Joy they all provide,
Eager to follow their accursed Guide:
Mean while our Lord, well knowing Grief and Fear
Opprest his Friends, his fatal Hour so near;
Thus, Sad himself, to them did Comfort give:
“Let not your Hearts be troubled, but believe!
I go, so wills high Heav'n, but do not fear,
I'll Love and Guard you there as well as here!
I go before, nor can I, if I stay,
To those bright mansions, mark the shining Way;
Tho' absent, still I'll love you, still as dear,
If faithful still, as when I taught you here.
I the bless'd Paraclete will shortly send,
The wisest Advocate, the gentlest Friend;
Him nought but Sin can from the Breast remove,
O never, never grieve the spotless Dove!
If he your Friend, you may with smiles despise
The weak Efforts of your worst Enemies:
The World will hate you, (me it did, wou'd you
Escape?) the kindest thing the World can do!
Lifes ruffling Storms the greatest Friends will be,
If home they drive you to your Selves and Me.
Firm to my Cause, and each to other stand!
A Band of Friends, a glorious deathless Band!
—Yet soon, unguarded left, you'd Men be shown,
To me far better than your selves you're known:
Too weak your boasted Faith and Courage all,
You'd by th' unequal Tempter baffled fall:
Forsake my Cause, unguarded leave my Side,
Your Master and your Faith at once deny'd.
—When Cephas thus abrupt—Lord, I can die
For thy dear Name, but not thy Name deny:
As much the rest, with virtuous Grief and Pain,
They, so abject a baseness, all disdain.
When Jesus thus—Agen, your hearts I know,
And whether are deceiv'd, th' Event will show:
For You who such a Champion now appear,
And more than all the rest remov'd from fear;
Thrice, e'er this mournful Morn its beams display,
E'er thrice the watchful Fowl has warn'd the Day;
So weak when left to your own strength you are,
My Name, my very Knowledge you'll forswear.
But tho' th' infernal Foe so fierce assail,
And hopes on all my House he shall prevail,
I've pray'd—Your Faith may shake, but shall not fail.
O righteous Father hear! thy Will I've shown
To those thou gav'st me—O preserve thy own!
The World I leave to thy wise Will resign'd,
But these, a part of me, still leave behind.
O Guard 'em there, all intimately one,
Like thee, O righteous Father, and the Son!
Let thy bright Image ever on them shine,
Full fill'd with Grace, and Love, and Joy divine!
'Till the vain dazled VVorld confounded see,
That these from me came forth, as I from thee!
The genuine Glories of fair Virtue own,
Ay-Beaming-bright from thy illustrious Throne:
When Life's dull Scene is past, and wretched Days,
Thither, O thither thy true Servants raise!
A double Heav'n to them, to see and share,
Their happy Friends immortal Glories there!
Thro' me to them shall all thy Goodness shine,
Theirs all the Glory, all the Love that's mine;
What I with thee enjoy'd Eternal Ages past,
The same which shall to long Eternal Ages last.
I go, so wills high Heav'n, but do not fear,
I'll Love and Guard you there as well as here!
I go before, nor can I, if I stay,
To those bright mansions, mark the shining Way;
Tho' absent, still I'll love you, still as dear,
If faithful still, as when I taught you here.
I the bless'd Paraclete will shortly send,
The wisest Advocate, the gentlest Friend;
Him nought but Sin can from the Breast remove,
278
If he your Friend, you may with smiles despise
The weak Efforts of your worst Enemies:
The World will hate you, (me it did, wou'd you
Escape?) the kindest thing the World can do!
Lifes ruffling Storms the greatest Friends will be,
If home they drive you to your Selves and Me.
Firm to my Cause, and each to other stand!
A Band of Friends, a glorious deathless Band!
—Yet soon, unguarded left, you'd Men be shown,
To me far better than your selves you're known:
Too weak your boasted Faith and Courage all,
You'd by th' unequal Tempter baffled fall:
Forsake my Cause, unguarded leave my Side,
Your Master and your Faith at once deny'd.
—When Cephas thus abrupt—Lord, I can die
For thy dear Name, but not thy Name deny:
As much the rest, with virtuous Grief and Pain,
They, so abject a baseness, all disdain.
When Jesus thus—Agen, your hearts I know,
And whether are deceiv'd, th' Event will show:
For You who such a Champion now appear,
And more than all the rest remov'd from fear;
Thrice, e'er this mournful Morn its beams display,
E'er thrice the watchful Fowl has warn'd the Day;
So weak when left to your own strength you are,
My Name, my very Knowledge you'll forswear.
But tho' th' infernal Foe so fierce assail,
And hopes on all my House he shall prevail,
I've pray'd—Your Faith may shake, but shall not fail.
O righteous Father hear! thy Will I've shown
To those thou gav'st me—O preserve thy own!
The World I leave to thy wise Will resign'd,
But these, a part of me, still leave behind.
O Guard 'em there, all intimately one,
Like thee, O righteous Father, and the Son!
Let thy bright Image ever on them shine,
Full fill'd with Grace, and Love, and Joy divine!
'Till the vain dazled VVorld confounded see,
That these from me came forth, as I from thee!
279
Ay-Beaming-bright from thy illustrious Throne:
When Life's dull Scene is past, and wretched Days,
Thither, O thither thy true Servants raise!
A double Heav'n to them, to see and share,
Their happy Friends immortal Glories there!
Thro' me to them shall all thy Goodness shine,
Theirs all the Glory, all the Love that's mine;
What I with thee enjoy'd Eternal Ages past,
The same which shall to long Eternal Ages last.
He said, then o'er deep Kidron's Brook and Plain,
To sweet Gethsemane he leads again,
With Cephas and the Zebedean Pair—
He seeks 'ith' Shades a close retirement there.
The rest without, nor e'en to these he talks,
But silent all, deep-meditating walks;
As gentle Philomel sits musing long,
Before she ease her Sorrows with a Song:
At length, thus with a Sigh that rends his Breast,
—O my distracted Heart with Grief opprest;
Heavy as Deaths Dead-weight, with loads of Care,
Too heavy for Humanity to bear.
Why shou'd you any further with me go?
Why shou'd my Friends share my contagious Woe?
Wait here a while, altho' in vain you wait,
For who can be too vigilant for Fate?
To sweet Gethsemane he leads again,
With Cephas and the Zebedean Pair—
He seeks 'ith' Shades a close retirement there.
The rest without, nor e'en to these he talks,
But silent all, deep-meditating walks;
As gentle Philomel sits musing long,
Before she ease her Sorrows with a Song:
At length, thus with a Sigh that rends his Breast,
—O my distracted Heart with Grief opprest;
Heavy as Deaths Dead-weight, with loads of Care,
Too heavy for Humanity to bear.
Why shou'd you any further with me go?
Why shou'd my Friends share my contagious Woe?
Wait here a while, altho' in vain you wait,
For who can be too vigilant for Fate?
He says, and thrusts into the deepest Shade,
Where on the Ground he fell and prostrate pray'd:
Never such Griefs, as thou for Us didst prove!
Never such Woes, O agonizing Love!
Amazing Sorrows, which we can't conceive,
But think the God eclips'd, the Man did leave:
O Father, O, if possible it be,
Unbounded Might! what is not so to thee?
The Saviour crys, as on his Face he lay;
O take this Cup, this bitter Cup away!
The Wrath divine unmixt this Cup contains,
And with infernal Poison burns my Veins.
'Tis not, alas, a single Death I dread;
How calmly cou'd I lean my weary Head
On the cold Earth, and common Mothers breast?
How gladly sleep away to endless Rest?
'Tis not a publick Death—Ev'n that I'd scorn,
Tho' that of Slaves, on the curst Gibbet born;
Shameful and infamous, I'd ne'r complain,
Nor fear the Pomp of Death, beyond the Pain.
My frowning Fathers Wrath—There, there's the Curse;
Than Pain, than Shame, than Death, that Hell, 'tis worse.
Where on the Ground he fell and prostrate pray'd:
Never such Griefs, as thou for Us didst prove!
Never such Woes, O agonizing Love!
Amazing Sorrows, which we can't conceive,
But think the God eclips'd, the Man did leave:
O Father, O, if possible it be,
Unbounded Might! what is not so to thee?
The Saviour crys, as on his Face he lay;
O take this Cup, this bitter Cup away!
The Wrath divine unmixt this Cup contains,
And with infernal Poison burns my Veins.
'Tis not, alas, a single Death I dread;
How calmly cou'd I lean my weary Head
280
How gladly sleep away to endless Rest?
'Tis not a publick Death—Ev'n that I'd scorn,
Tho' that of Slaves, on the curst Gibbet born;
Shameful and infamous, I'd ne'r complain,
Nor fear the Pomp of Death, beyond the Pain.
My frowning Fathers Wrath—There, there's the Curse;
Than Pain, than Shame, than Death, that Hell, 'tis worse.
O can I, must I be from him remov'd,
Whom I've from long eternal Ages lov'd?
Never offended, never saw his Brow
With Frowns disguis'd, nor Clouds obscur'd till now.
What has thy fond prevarication cost,
Weak Man, to gain the Eden thou hast lost?
Yet if no other Way Heav'ns VVrath t'atone,
The Victim I the Sacrifice alone,
T'appease my injur'd Father, Lord I yield!
Nor longer shall refuse the dreadful Field:
For this, by thee to the lost VVorld I'm sent,
I can't my Love t'unhappy Man repent:
Ah, Lov'd he thee as well, Ungrate! to cure
His VVounds, more Deaths, more Passions I'd endure.
Whom I've from long eternal Ages lov'd?
Never offended, never saw his Brow
With Frowns disguis'd, nor Clouds obscur'd till now.
What has thy fond prevarication cost,
Weak Man, to gain the Eden thou hast lost?
Yet if no other Way Heav'ns VVrath t'atone,
The Victim I the Sacrifice alone,
T'appease my injur'd Father, Lord I yield!
Nor longer shall refuse the dreadful Field:
For this, by thee to the lost VVorld I'm sent,
I can't my Love t'unhappy Man repent:
Ah, Lov'd he thee as well, Ungrate! to cure
His VVounds, more Deaths, more Passions I'd endure.
What mortal Pains did then the Saviour feel?
As Hearts when trembling on the pointed Steel:
What deep convulsive Agonies he found,
Which every part of Soul and Body Wound?
The comely Order, they of both displace;
Large Clods of Sweat and Blood roll mingled down his Face.
As much as Man cou'd do, as much and more,
Already he, without a murmur bore;
Had but all Earth and Hell their Forces join'd,
Not Heav'n too in th' Triple League combin'd,
Ev'n in this mortal elemented State,
His Virtues had been equal to their weight:
But 'twas Heav'n crush'd him; Heav'n, severe, yet just,
Which bruis'd his Adamantine Soul to Dust.
It long'd to sally from its dark abode,
Press'd with our Sins, a vast, an odious Load.
He can no more, but in th' unequal Strife,
Had, with his very Being, lost his Life;
If longer h'had maintain'd the Field alone:
Th' Eternal Father heard, he heard him groan
And shake whole Natures Frame—
To his Relief a mighty Angel sent,
On the great Embassie he wond'ring went;
Did Flow'rs of Eden to our Lord convey,
And kneel'd to him, as he to Heav'n did pray,
And wip'd the big-round Drops of sanguine Sweat away.
—Enough, the Saviour Cries, thy Service spare,
I'm not all lost, my Father yet takes care
Of his weak mortal Son—All, all agen,
And more, if possible, I'd bear for Men;
For Men, he struggling prays, nor prays in vain,
Tho' strength renew'd, but more renews his Pain.
As Hearts when trembling on the pointed Steel:
What deep convulsive Agonies he found,
Which every part of Soul and Body Wound?
The comely Order, they of both displace;
Large Clods of Sweat and Blood roll mingled down his Face.
As much as Man cou'd do, as much and more,
Already he, without a murmur bore;
Had but all Earth and Hell their Forces join'd,
Not Heav'n too in th' Triple League combin'd,
Ev'n in this mortal elemented State,
His Virtues had been equal to their weight:
But 'twas Heav'n crush'd him; Heav'n, severe, yet just,
Which bruis'd his Adamantine Soul to Dust.
It long'd to sally from its dark abode,
Press'd with our Sins, a vast, an odious Load.
He can no more, but in th' unequal Strife,
Had, with his very Being, lost his Life;
281
Th' Eternal Father heard, he heard him groan
And shake whole Natures Frame—
To his Relief a mighty Angel sent,
On the great Embassie he wond'ring went;
Did Flow'rs of Eden to our Lord convey,
And kneel'd to him, as he to Heav'n did pray,
And wip'd the big-round Drops of sanguine Sweat away.
—Enough, the Saviour Cries, thy Service spare,
I'm not all lost, my Father yet takes care
Of his weak mortal Son—All, all agen,
And more, if possible, I'd bear for Men;
For Men, he struggling prays, nor prays in vain,
Tho' strength renew'd, but more renews his Pain.
Here, here let boasting Greece her Heroes bring,
How far excell'd by Salem's peaceful King?
Ev'n him who over Oeta-Hill did rove,
His Veins all fir'd, the fabled Son of Jove;
Alcides self unequal Match for Pain:
He rav'd at Fate, and strugled with his Chain.
—Saviour forgive! 'Tis almost Blasphemy,
To name at once their spurious Gods and Thee.
Thou only like thy self—What Demon dare,
What wretched Man with thee, true Son of God compare?
O, of Celestial Stem! O hear our Pray'r!
Thro' all the World let Vice and Discord cease,
And bless with lasting Virtue, lasting Peace!
How far excell'd by Salem's peaceful King?
Ev'n him who over Oeta-Hill did rove,
His Veins all fir'd, the fabled Son of Jove;
Alcides self unequal Match for Pain:
He rav'd at Fate, and strugled with his Chain.
—Saviour forgive! 'Tis almost Blasphemy,
To name at once their spurious Gods and Thee.
Thou only like thy self—What Demon dare,
What wretched Man with thee, true Son of God compare?
O, of Celestial Stem! O hear our Pray'r!
Thro' all the World let Vice and Discord cease,
And bless with lasting Virtue, lasting Peace!
Mean while the three sad Friends with sleep opprest,
Which seiz'd their Eyes, as Sorrow seiz'd their Breast;
On the soft natural grassie Couch reclin'd,
Stole Ease at once for Body and for Mind:
To whom our Lord, return'd—Is't thus you prove
Your boasted Courage, and your boasted Love?
Is't thus for all my Care you me reward?
And can't you, one short Hour your Master guard?
But if already you my Name disown,
Yet watch, if not for my sake, for your own!
O watch and pray! never such cause for fear,
The Hour's at Hand, th' invading Tempter's near:
Thence back our Lord did to the Shades repair;
The self-same fervor and the self-same Pray'r,
The Posture too the same, repeating there.
Twice did repeat, as oft his Friends he found,
In Sleep alike, and stubborn Sorrows drown'd;
At last returning—Now sleep on, he cries,
And if you can, indulge your drowsie Eyes!
I sleep no more, till the great Ransom's paid;
The Hour is come—The Son of Man's betray'd:
—Yet I'll not leave you thus—My Care you'll see
Employ'd for you, altho' not yours for me.
Once more arise, and wisely learn to fear,
Fate hastens on amain, the Traytor's here.
Which seiz'd their Eyes, as Sorrow seiz'd their Breast;
On the soft natural grassie Couch reclin'd,
Stole Ease at once for Body and for Mind:
To whom our Lord, return'd—Is't thus you prove
Your boasted Courage, and your boasted Love?
Is't thus for all my Care you me reward?
And can't you, one short Hour your Master guard?
But if already you my Name disown,
Yet watch, if not for my sake, for your own!
O watch and pray! never such cause for fear,
The Hour's at Hand, th' invading Tempter's near:
282
The self-same fervor and the self-same Pray'r,
The Posture too the same, repeating there.
Twice did repeat, as oft his Friends he found,
In Sleep alike, and stubborn Sorrows drown'd;
At last returning—Now sleep on, he cries,
And if you can, indulge your drowsie Eyes!
I sleep no more, till the great Ransom's paid;
The Hour is come—The Son of Man's betray'd:
—Yet I'll not leave you thus—My Care you'll see
Employ'd for you, altho' not yours for me.
Once more arise, and wisely learn to fear,
Fate hastens on amain, the Traytor's here.
This scarcely said, the rest, who'd frighted seen
Th' approaching Lights and Guards, came trembling in;
Yet not so swift, but the mad Crowd appear,
As soon as they, or mingled in their Rear:
Fearless our Lord, himself doth interpose,
Between his tim'rous Friends and spiteful Foes,
Now only Man t'encounter, well he knew:
He knew and scorn'd the worst that Man cou'd do.
Undaunted asks, they more than he affraid,
Whom there it was they sought—What there they made;
Jesus, they cry'd—If that your bus'ness be,
No farther seek, he answers, I am He.
O what a Guard is Virtue! by the sound
Of those Majestic Words, struck back, they fell to th' Ground.
Yet stubborn rose, agen they forward go,
Obdurate, stun'd, not soften'd by the Blow.
Agen our Saviour asks, and they the same
Bold Words repeat, agen he owns his Name.
If me you only seek, let these depart,
Mildly he adds; his Friends still near his Heart.
Th' approaching Lights and Guards, came trembling in;
Yet not so swift, but the mad Crowd appear,
As soon as they, or mingled in their Rear:
Fearless our Lord, himself doth interpose,
Between his tim'rous Friends and spiteful Foes,
Now only Man t'encounter, well he knew:
He knew and scorn'd the worst that Man cou'd do.
Undaunted asks, they more than he affraid,
Whom there it was they sought—What there they made;
Jesus, they cry'd—If that your bus'ness be,
No farther seek, he answers, I am He.
O what a Guard is Virtue! by the sound
Of those Majestic Words, struck back, they fell to th' Ground.
Yet stubborn rose, agen they forward go,
Obdurate, stun'd, not soften'd by the Blow.
Agen our Saviour asks, and they the same
Bold Words repeat, agen he owns his Name.
If me you only seek, let these depart,
Mildly he adds; his Friends still near his Heart.
This fervent Cephas, more impatient saw,
And his broad Sword did from his Scabbard draw;
Amongst the foremost flew, who e'er he found,
Not spares, but deals swift doubled strokes around:
The scatt'ring Crowd avoids, nor cares t'engage
His forward Zeal, thus arm'd with desp'rate Rage.
Malchus alone stood firm; a Servant he
Of some Remark, 'ith' Pontiff's Family,
Against his warmth oppos'd his single Might.
—Nor Cephas this, who dar'd whole Armies fight;
But when before almost h'had look'd him dead,
One furious Blow he makes full at his Head,
Nor scap'd his Ear; tho' bending he gave way,
But bleeding on the Ground, dismember'd lay.
—Thus far, our Saviour cries, Endure! to show,
What if I pleas'd my faithful Friends cou'd do!
Cephas! return thy Sword! stay thy fierce Hand,
Cou'd I not Legions of bright Spirits command
To my Relief? They Know, they Love me still—
—But 'tis not my Almighty Father's Will:
He said, and did the wounded Ear restore,
A golden Circle, where the Scar before.
And his broad Sword did from his Scabbard draw;
Amongst the foremost flew, who e'er he found,
Not spares, but deals swift doubled strokes around:
The scatt'ring Crowd avoids, nor cares t'engage
His forward Zeal, thus arm'd with desp'rate Rage.
Malchus alone stood firm; a Servant he
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Against his warmth oppos'd his single Might.
—Nor Cephas this, who dar'd whole Armies fight;
But when before almost h'had look'd him dead,
One furious Blow he makes full at his Head,
Nor scap'd his Ear; tho' bending he gave way,
But bleeding on the Ground, dismember'd lay.
—Thus far, our Saviour cries, Endure! to show,
What if I pleas'd my faithful Friends cou'd do!
Cephas! return thy Sword! stay thy fierce Hand,
Cou'd I not Legions of bright Spirits command
To my Relief? They Know, they Love me still—
—But 'tis not my Almighty Father's Will:
He said, and did the wounded Ear restore,
A golden Circle, where the Scar before.
Till now, not dar'd the Trait'rous Wretch appear,
But shelter'd in the Crowd his Guilt and Fear;
Thus mild our Saviour seen, as Villains use,
His Goodness he takes courage thence t'abuse.
But shelter'd in the Crowd his Guilt and Fear;
Thus mild our Saviour seen, as Villains use,
His Goodness he takes courage thence t'abuse.
In Friendship's Vizard hides his odious Guile,
And base, accosts him with a Kiss and Smile:
This only did the patient Jesus say,
—Ah! miscall'd Friend! Is't thus you me betray?
That mark once giv'n, by the false Wretch assign'd,
That they in Night's dark Shades our Lord might find,
From all the rest the Crowd him seize and bind;
And hurry thence, his scatt'ring Houshold fly
As heartless Sheep, the Wolf or Robbers nigh,
Their faithful Guide, or absent thence, or slain;
Ev'n Cephas flies, now all his Boast's in vain:
In vain at his own Fear and Baseness grieves,
He flies, but scarce himself his Flight believes.
And base, accosts him with a Kiss and Smile:
This only did the patient Jesus say,
—Ah! miscall'd Friend! Is't thus you me betray?
That mark once giv'n, by the false Wretch assign'd,
That they in Night's dark Shades our Lord might find,
From all the rest the Crowd him seize and bind;
And hurry thence, his scatt'ring Houshold fly
As heartless Sheep, the Wolf or Robbers nigh,
Their faithful Guide, or absent thence, or slain;
Ev'n Cephas flies, now all his Boast's in vain:
In vain at his own Fear and Baseness grieves,
He flies, but scarce himself his Flight believes.
So when two Kings for Empire or for Right,
In glitt'ring Arms meet on the Mounds to fight?
If one by his chief Minister betray'd,
And seiz'd by th' adverse part, his Host affraid,
Fly scatt'ring o'er the Plains themselves to hide,
The Base and Brave alike born by th' impetuous Tide:
If with the rest some Kinsman to the Throne,
In Battles and in Triumphs hoary grown,
Is hurry'd thence, he from the Rabble free,
Stands firm, near some strong Pass, or Defilè:
Looks on his Sword and Blushes—Musing stands,
Looks on his Ensigns, and victorious Hands;
Rallies and Fights, till all his Guards are gone,
“He Raves as he goes back, and shakes as he goes on.
In glitt'ring Arms meet on the Mounds to fight?
If one by his chief Minister betray'd,
And seiz'd by th' adverse part, his Host affraid,
Fly scatt'ring o'er the Plains themselves to hide,
The Base and Brave alike born by th' impetuous Tide:
If with the rest some Kinsman to the Throne,
In Battles and in Triumphs hoary grown,
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Stands firm, near some strong Pass, or Defilè:
Looks on his Sword and Blushes—Musing stands,
Looks on his Ensigns, and victorious Hands;
Rallies and Fights, till all his Guards are gone,
“He Raves as he goes back, and shakes as he goes on.
The while our Saviour to the Hall they bear,
With Scoffs abuse, with Blows torment him there:
Of the dull Rabbles Wit the patient Theme,
They spit with Mouths impure, and then Blaspheme;
Such Guards the King of Earth and Heav'n attend,
None of his Follo'ers there besides his Friend;
He, tho' at first he fled among the rest,
Yet, soon return'd, his Master, bold confest,
And pleads him innocent.—With much of Fear,
Comes Cephas after, slowly' approaching near
The Palace-Gate; and when he there was seen
By the Great Friend, his Int'rest gets him in:
Trembling, he follows his couragious Guide,
With care from every Eye his face to hide;
To all reveal'd by that suspicious Care;
The Porter asks, if he too was not there?
Unless he strangely is mistaken, he
A glimpse of him did in the Garden see.
—The tim'rous Saint replies, and strait withdrew,
Him till this Hour I never saw nor knew;
—But still where e'er he goes his Fears pursue:
Charg'd with the same agen, the same replies,
And all as firmly as before denies:
Nor long before a Third did him accuse,
His Idiom diff'rent from the other Jews:
Rustic and gross, betray'd his Country, He
Was doubtless bred in factious Galilee:
When press'd thus home and full, he Curs'd, he Swore,
Sure then, he thought they'd ne'er suspect him more.
So God to me, he cries, as this is true,
As him before I never saw or knew.
Scarce from his perjur'd Lips the Words were born,
E'er thrice the watchful Fowl proclaim'd the Morn:
The Saviour turn'd, the tim'rous Saint stood by,
And on him fix'd his mild, but piercing Eye.
He did no more, nor Cephas more did need;
Soon did his honest Heart begin to bleed:
Within their Banks his Sorrows cou'd not keep,
But sought a close Retirement where to weep;
There did, with Seas of Tears, his Fall deplore,
And wash'd his Breast e'en whiter than before.
With Scoffs abuse, with Blows torment him there:
Of the dull Rabbles Wit the patient Theme,
They spit with Mouths impure, and then Blaspheme;
Such Guards the King of Earth and Heav'n attend,
None of his Follo'ers there besides his Friend;
He, tho' at first he fled among the rest,
Yet, soon return'd, his Master, bold confest,
And pleads him innocent.—With much of Fear,
Comes Cephas after, slowly' approaching near
The Palace-Gate; and when he there was seen
By the Great Friend, his Int'rest gets him in:
Trembling, he follows his couragious Guide,
With care from every Eye his face to hide;
To all reveal'd by that suspicious Care;
The Porter asks, if he too was not there?
Unless he strangely is mistaken, he
A glimpse of him did in the Garden see.
—The tim'rous Saint replies, and strait withdrew,
Him till this Hour I never saw nor knew;
—But still where e'er he goes his Fears pursue:
Charg'd with the same agen, the same replies,
And all as firmly as before denies:
Nor long before a Third did him accuse,
His Idiom diff'rent from the other Jews:
Rustic and gross, betray'd his Country, He
Was doubtless bred in factious Galilee:
When press'd thus home and full, he Curs'd, he Swore,
Sure then, he thought they'd ne'er suspect him more.
So God to me, he cries, as this is true,
As him before I never saw or knew.
Scarce from his perjur'd Lips the Words were born,
E'er thrice the watchful Fowl proclaim'd the Morn:
The Saviour turn'd, the tim'rous Saint stood by,
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He did no more, nor Cephas more did need;
Soon did his honest Heart begin to bleed:
Within their Banks his Sorrows cou'd not keep,
But sought a close Retirement where to weep;
There did, with Seas of Tears, his Fall deplore,
And wash'd his Breast e'en whiter than before.
And now the guiltless Criminal is brought,
Bound, to th' unjust Tribunal; long they sought
To murder him upon some fair pretence,
But cou'd not find one Thorough-Evidence:
All Arts they use; now this, now that they try,
Now Charge with Treason, then with Blasphemy:
Yet nothing prove; too little, or too much
Still Sworn, nothing that yet his Life cou'd touch:
Enrag'd, the wicked Caiaphas arose,
His Thirst of Blood, each Word each Action shows;
Blood in each Line of his distorted Face,
Murd'rous his Looks, revengeful, mean and base:
How long must we on this Impostor wait,
Foaming, he cries?—Confess, and meet thy Fate!
What Blasphemies? what Treasons? quickly show,
In vain thou woud'st deny what all Men know,
What we can prove—Then better own it all,
—There may be Mercy—Where your last Cabal?
When you're to pull the Roman Ensigns down,
And when the Temple seize, and fire the Town?
Bound, to th' unjust Tribunal; long they sought
To murder him upon some fair pretence,
But cou'd not find one Thorough-Evidence:
All Arts they use; now this, now that they try,
Now Charge with Treason, then with Blasphemy:
Yet nothing prove; too little, or too much
Still Sworn, nothing that yet his Life cou'd touch:
Enrag'd, the wicked Caiaphas arose,
His Thirst of Blood, each Word each Action shows;
Blood in each Line of his distorted Face,
Murd'rous his Looks, revengeful, mean and base:
How long must we on this Impostor wait,
Foaming, he cries?—Confess, and meet thy Fate!
What Blasphemies? what Treasons? quickly show,
In vain thou woud'st deny what all Men know,
What we can prove—Then better own it all,
—There may be Mercy—Where your last Cabal?
When you're to pull the Roman Ensigns down,
And when the Temple seize, and fire the Town?
Mildly our Saviour, no resentments shown
At such loud Falshoods—Well may I disown
Such Calumnies as not your selves believe—
But since unlikely 'tis you shou'd receive
Ev'n Truth it self from me; I but desire
From those that heard me, fairly you'd enquire:
Secret Cabals I never lov'd nor sought,
No dang'rous private Doctrines ever taught:
My Words the Synagogues and Temple know,
From thence my Blasphemy and Treason show!
At such loud Falshoods—Well may I disown
Such Calumnies as not your selves believe—
But since unlikely 'tis you shou'd receive
Ev'n Truth it self from me; I but desire
From those that heard me, fairly you'd enquire:
Secret Cabals I never lov'd nor sought,
No dang'rous private Doctrines ever taught:
My Words the Synagogues and Temple know,
From thence my Blasphemy and Treason show!
He said, when one o'th' Zealots factious Race,
With a rude Halbert strikes his heav'nly Face:
Is that an Answer? adds, for you to give
His Holiness? Why shou'd such Wretches live?
Our Lord—Still Patient, and unconquer'd still,
Declare 't, if ought I've said that's false or ill!
If well, why have I such hard measure found
In open Court? Why am I struck when bound?
With a rude Halbert strikes his heav'nly Face:
Is that an Answer? adds, for you to give
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Our Lord—Still Patient, and unconquer'd still,
Declare 't, if ought I've said that's false or ill!
If well, why have I such hard measure found
In open Court? Why am I struck when bound?
Agen, the Pontiff rose—One way did rest,
To force the fatal Secret from his Breast:
If thou the Sacred promis'd Seed, he said,
From Ages, doom'd to crush the Serpent's Head;
The destin'd Prince for Israel's mighty Throne,
Why dost thou longer thy high-Birth disown?
By our conceal'd unutterable Name,
With whom thou dost ambitious Kinred claim,
I adjure thee speak—Then the Dispute is done:
We'll own thee all—Art thou th' Almighty Son,
The Christ of God? Our Saviour—Tho' I take
Your whole Design; and know what use you'll make
Of my Confession: yet I'll not deny
My self, nor my great Kinred in the Sky:
—Whom now you see, and a weak Mortal scorn,
The Son of Man, to your Tribunal born;
When High-enthron'd in boundless Light and Bliss.
As he at yours you shall appear at His.
To force the fatal Secret from his Breast:
If thou the Sacred promis'd Seed, he said,
From Ages, doom'd to crush the Serpent's Head;
The destin'd Prince for Israel's mighty Throne,
Why dost thou longer thy high-Birth disown?
By our conceal'd unutterable Name,
With whom thou dost ambitious Kinred claim,
I adjure thee speak—Then the Dispute is done:
We'll own thee all—Art thou th' Almighty Son,
The Christ of God? Our Saviour—Tho' I take
Your whole Design; and know what use you'll make
Of my Confession: yet I'll not deny
My self, nor my great Kinred in the Sky:
—Whom now you see, and a weak Mortal scorn,
The Son of Man, to your Tribunal born;
When High-enthron'd in boundless Light and Bliss.
As he at yours you shall appear at His.
With a curs'd Joy—'Tis past, the Pontiff cry'd;
He's ours—Now Fathers! are you satisfy'd?
—That all his doating Followers were but near,
His own'd, his publick Blasphemies to hear!
The Fact is plain, if Sence it self be true:
Speak Fathers! and I'm sure you'll Justice do.
—Their black united Suffrage rends the Skies;
Yes—The Blasphemer dies: he dies, he dies!
The Court adjourn'd, to Pilate's Palace went,
Mix'd with the Crowd, t'accuse the Innocent:
Dust on their Heads they fling, and Dust i'th' Air,
And thence with many a Curse our patient Saviour bear.
He's ours—Now Fathers! are you satisfy'd?
—That all his doating Followers were but near,
His own'd, his publick Blasphemies to hear!
The Fact is plain, if Sence it self be true:
Speak Fathers! and I'm sure you'll Justice do.
—Their black united Suffrage rends the Skies;
Yes—The Blasphemer dies: he dies, he dies!
The Court adjourn'd, to Pilate's Palace went,
Mix'd with the Crowd, t'accuse the Innocent:
Dust on their Heads they fling, and Dust i'th' Air,
And thence with many a Curse our patient Saviour bear.
The End of the Eighth Book.
| The Life of Our Blessed Lord & Saviour Jesus Christ | |