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The Poetical Works of William Julius Mickle

including several original pieces, with a new life of the author. By the Rev. John Sim

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TRANSLATIONS.

PSALM LXVIII. Paraphrase.

The Majesty, the Power, the Justice, and the Mercy of God.

Arise, O God, assume thy might!
Shall proud oppressors still unaw'd devour,
Still trample on the poor man's right,
And lewdly scorn thy pow'r.
When roaring from the western deep
The black-wing'd tempests rush,
When o'er the hills with headlong sweep
The inundations gush;
As then the whirling chaff is driven,
So swept away shall be
All who despise the laws of heaven,
Nor honour pay to thee.
But, O ye just, with rapture raise
Your chearful voices in his praise;
With sacred awe and holy mirth
Resound the God of heaven and earth;
The God whose mercy knows no end,
The poor man's and the widow's Friend,
The helpless orphan's Sire;
Who round the meek afflicted just,
Tho crush'd and humbled in the dust,
Is still a wall of fire.
When thou, O God, didst march before
Thy people to the promis'd shore,
Then shook old earth:—The sky
Shot light'nings from on high;

185

The rapid Jordan bar'd his bed,
The ocean saw his God and fled,
The lofty cliffs of Sinai nod
And tremble at the presence of their thund'ring God.
The Lord Jehovah gave the word,
And loud the tribes resound,
And mighty kings and mighty hosts
Lay scatter'd o'er the ground:
Dispers'd as snow in Salmon's plain
So fell, so lay the mighty slain,
And with their purple spoils are crown'd
The tender virgin train.
Thousands of angels at thy gate,
And great archangels stand,
And twenty thousand chariots wait,
Great Lord thy dread command!
Thro' all thy great, thy vast domains,
With Godlike honours clad,
Captivity in captive chains
Triumphing thou hast led.
That thou might'st dwell with men below,
And be their God and King,
From Bashan and the land of woe
Shalt thou thy people bring:
From Bashan and the desert shore
To blooming fields, and cities fair,
While sacred songsters march before,
And Jacob's princes faint no more,
Shalt thou the way prepare.
Lo! Egypt's kings and wisest men
Shall bend the duteous knee,
And Ethiopia, wide and great,
Thro' all her vast extended state,
Shall stretch her hands to thee.
But, awful Sov'reign! who can stand
Before the terrors of thy hand,
When thy right hand impends the blow
To strike a proud obdurate foe?

186

Yet to thy saints, O God of pray'r,
How mild thy mercies shine!
The tenderest father's ardent care
But ill resembles thine:
Thy mercies far, oh, far above
Thy other wonders shine,
A mother's ever watchful love
But ill resembles thine!

An Epithalamium, written in Hebrew by Abram Depas, on the marriage of Jacob Franco, Esq; to Miss Abigail D'Aguilar, daughter of the late Baron D'Aguilar.

The voice of joy this happy day demands;
Resound the song and in our God confide:
Beneath his canopy the bridegroom stands,
In all her beauty shines the lovely bride.
O may their joys still blossom, ever new,
Fair as a garden to the ravish'd view!
Rejoice, O youth, and if thy thoughts aspire
To heaven's pure bliss, the sacred law revere;
The stranger's wants, the needy soul's desire
Supply, and humbly with thy neighbour bear:
So shall thy father's grateful heart rejoice,
And thy fair deeds inspire thy people's voice.
Sing from your bowers, ye daughters of the song,
Behold the bride with star-like glory shine;
May each succeeding day still glide along
Fair as the first, begirt with grace divine:
Far from her tent may care and sorrow fly,
While she o'erjoy'd beholds her numerous progeny.
Ye happy parents, shout with cheerful voice,
See, o'er your son the canopy unfold;
And thou, O hoary rev'rend Sire, rejoice,
May thy glad eyes thy grandson's son behold.
The song of joy, ye youthful kindred raise,
And let the people join, the living God to praise!

187

SONNET TO VASCO DE GAMA: FROM TASSO.

Vasco le cui felici, &c.

Vasco, whose bold and happy bowsprit bore
Against the rising morn; and homeward fraught,
Whose sails came westward with the day, and brought
The wealth of India to thy native shore;
Ne'er did the Greek such length of seas explore,
The Greek, who sorrow to the Cyclops wrought;
And he, who, victor, with the Harpies fought,
Never such pomp of naval honors wore.
Great as thou art, and peerless in renown,
Yet thou to Camoens ow'st thy noblest fame;
Farther than thou didst sail, his deathless song
Shall bear the dazzling splendour of thy name;
And under many a sky thy actions crown,
While Time and Fame together glide along.

SONNET: FROM PETRARCH.

Ah! how, my friend, has foul gorged luxurie,
And bloated slumber on the slothful down,
From the dull world all manly virtue thrown,
And slaved the age to custom's tyrannie.

188

The blessed lights so lost in darkness be,
Those lights by heaven to guide our minds bestown,
Mad were he deem'd who brought from Helicon
The hallow'd water, or the laurel tree.
Philosophy, ah! thou art cold and poor,
Exclaim the crowd on sordid gain intent;
Few will attend thee on thy lofty road;
Yet, I, my friend, would fire thy zeal the more:
Ah, gentle spirit, labour on unspent,
Crown thy fair toils, and win the smile of God.
FINIS.