The Works of the Reverend and Learned Isaac Watts, D. D. Containing, besides his Sermons, and Essays on miscellaneous subjects, several additional pieces, Selected from his Manuscripts by the Rev. Dr. Jennings, and the Rev. Dr. Doddridge, in 1753: to which are prefixed, memoirs of the life of the author, compiled by the Rev. George Burder. In six volumes |
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IV.—THE HEBREW POET. |
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 | The Works of the Reverend and Learned Isaac Watts, D. D. |  |
513
IV.—THE HEBREW POET.
This Ode represents the Difficulty of a just Translation of the Psalms of David, in all their Hebrew Glory; with an Apology for the Imitation of them in Christian Language.
I
Show me the man that dares and singsGreat David's verse to British strings:
Sublime attempt! But bold and vain
As building Babel's tower again.
II
The bard that climb'd to Cooper's Hill,Reaching at Zion, sham'd his skill,
And bids the sons of Albion own,
That Judah's psalmist reigns alone.
III
Blest poet! Now, like gentle Thames,He sooths our ears with silver streams:
Like his own Jordan, now he rolls,
And sweeps away our captive souls.
IV
Softly the tuneful shepherd leadsThe Hebrew flocks to flow'ry meads:
He marks their path with notes divine,
While fountains spring with oil and wine.
V
Rivers of peace attend his song,And draw their milky train along:
He jars; and lo, the flints are broke,
But honey issues from the rock.
VI
When kindling with victorious fire,He shakes his lance across the lyre;
The lyre resounds unknown alarms,
And sets the Thunderer in arms.
VII
Behold the God! Th'almighty KingRides on a tempest's glorious wing:
His ensigns lighten round the sky,
And moving legions sound on high.
VIII
Ten thousand cherubs wait his course,Chariots of fire and flaming horse;
Earth trembles; and her mountains flow,
At his approach, like melting snow.
IX
But who those frowns of wrath can draw,That strike heav'n, earth, and hell, with awe?
Red lightning from his eyelids broke;
His voice was thunder, hail and smoke.
X
He spake; the cleaving waters fled,And stars beheld the ocean's bed:
While the great master strikes his lyre,
You see the frighted floods retire:
XI
In heaps the frighted billows stand,Waiting the changes of his hand:
He leads his Israel through the sea,
And watry mountains guard their way.
XII
Turning his hand with sov'reign sweep,He drowns all Egypt in the deep:
Then guides the tribes, a glorious band,
Thro' deserts to the promis'd land.
XIII
Here camps with wide imbattl'd force,Here gates and bulwarks stop their course:
He storms the mounds, the bulwark falls,
The harp lies strew'd with ruin'd walls.
XIV
See his broad sword flies o'er the strings,And moves down nations with their kings:
From every chord his bolts are hurl'd,
And vengeance smites the rebel world.
XV
Lo, the great poet shifts the scene,And shows the face of God serene:
Truth, meekness, peace, salvation ride,
With guards of justice, at his side.
XVI
No meaner muse could weave the light,To form his robes divinely bright;
Or frame a crown of stars to shine
With beams for majesty divine.
XVII
Now in prophetic light he seesAges to come, and dark decrees:
He brings the Prince of glory down,
Stript of his robe and starry crown.
XVIII
See Jews and heathens fir'd with rage;See their combining pow'rs engage
Against th'Anointed of the Lord,
The man whom angels late ador'd,
514
XIX
God's only Son: Behold, he dies:Surprising grief! The groans arise,
The lyre complains on ev'ry string,
And mourns the murder of her King.
XX
But heav'n's Anointed must not dwellIn death: The vanquish'd pow'rs of hell
Yield to the harp's diviner lay;
The grave resigns th'illustrious prey.
XXI
Messiah lives! Messiah reigns!The song surmounts the airy plains,
T'attend her Lord with joys unknown,
And bear the Victor to his throne.
XXII
Rejoice, ye shining worlds on high,Behold the Lord of glory nigh:
Eternal doors, your leaves display,
To make the Lord of glory way.
XXIII
What mortal bard has skill or forceTo paint these scenes, to tread this course,
Or furnish through the ethereal road
A triumph for a rising God?
XXIV
Astonish'd at so vast a flightThro' flaming worlds and floods of light,
My muse her awful distance keeps,
Still following but with trembling steps.
XXV
She bids her humble verse explainThe Hebrew harp's sublimer strain;
Points to her Saviour still, and shows
What course the sun of glory goes.
XXVI
Here he ascends behind a cloudOf incense , there he sets in blood ;
She reads his labours and his names
In spicy smoke , and bleeding lambs .
XXVII
Rich are the graces which she drawsFrom types, and shades, and jewish laws;
With thousand glories long foretold
To turn the future age to gold.
XXVIII
Grace is her theme, and joy, and love:Descend, ye blessings, from above,
And crown my song. Eternal God,
Forgive the muse that dreads thy rod.
XXIX
Silent, she hears thy vengeance roll,That crushes mortals to the soul,
Nor dares assume the bold, nor sheds
Th'immortal curses on their heads.
XXX
Yet since her God is still the same,And David's son is all her theme,
She begs some humble place to sing
In concert with Judea's king.
| The Works of the Reverend and Learned Isaac Watts, D. D. | |