King Arthur An Heroick Poem. In Twelve Books. By Richard Blackmore. To which is Annexed, An Index, Explaining the Names of Countrys, Citys, and Rivers, &c |
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 | King Arthur |  |
Th'Almighty whose all-penetrating Eye
Do's search the Heart, and all its thoughts descry;
Who views the bent and purpose of your Mind,
Do's your Intention fixt and stedfast find,
To part with Life for your Religion's sake,
And do's the Will for full performance take.
Me therefore in Compassion he has sent
From his high Throne, your Suff'rings to prevent.
I to your Friends will safely you convey,
Then boldly follow where I lead the Way.
Do's search the Heart, and all its thoughts descry;
Who views the bent and purpose of your Mind,
Do's your Intention fixt and stedfast find,
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And do's the Will for full performance take.
Me therefore in Compassion he has sent
From his high Throne, your Suff'rings to prevent.
I to your Friends will safely you convey,
Then boldly follow where I lead the Way.
He said, and soon the Constant Clovis found
His Fetters loos'd, and fallen upon the ground.
One Child the Father, one the Mother took,
Who at the wondrous Stranger's Presence shook.
With Fear and Joy possest, without delay
They follow, and their Heav'nly Guide obey.
Th'advancing Seraph touch'd the Prison Door
With the bright Rod which in his hand he bore.
Th'obsequious Gate obey'd, and open slew,
Leaving them free their Safety to pursue.
Whom to the Camp the Angel did convey,
Where strong entrench'd the Valiant Britons lay.
That done, thro' all the spacious Fields of Air,
To his Celestial Seat he did repair.
His Fetters loos'd, and fallen upon the ground.
One Child the Father, one the Mother took,
Who at the wondrous Stranger's Presence shook.
With Fear and Joy possest, without delay
They follow, and their Heav'nly Guide obey.
Th'advancing Seraph touch'd the Prison Door
With the bright Rod which in his hand he bore.
Th'obsequious Gate obey'd, and open slew,
Leaving them free their Safety to pursue.
Whom to the Camp the Angel did convey,
Where strong entrench'd the Valiant Britons lay.
That done, thro' all the spacious Fields of Air,
To his Celestial Seat he did repair.
| King Arthur | |