University of Virginia Library

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37

Part of the Fourteenth Chapter of Isaiah

PARAPHRAS'D.

Now has th' Almighty Father, seated high
In ambient Glories from th'Eternal Throne
Vouchsaf'd Compassion; and th' afflictive Pow'r
Has broke, whose Iron Sceptre long had bruis'd
The groaning Nations. Now returning Peace,
Dove-ey'd, and rob'd in white, the blissful Land

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38

Deigns to revisit; whilst beneath her Steps
The Soil, with civil Slaughter oft' manur'd,
Pours forth abundant Olives. Their high Tops
The Cedars wave, exulting o'er thy Fall,
Whose Steel from the tall Monarch of the Grove
Sever'd the Regal Honours; and up tore
The Scions blooming in the Parent Shade.

When vehicl'd in Flame, thou slow didst pass
Prone thro' the Gates of Night, the dreary Realms
With loud Acclaim receiv'd thee. Tyrants old
(Gigantic Forms, with human Blood besmear'd,)
Rose from their Thrones; for Thrones they still possess,
Their Penance and their Guilt: Art thou, they cry,
O emulous of our Crimes, here doom'd to reign
Associate of our Woe? Nor com'st thou girt
With Livery'd Slaves, or Bands of Warrior-Knights,
Which erst before thee stood, a flatt'ring Crowd,
Observant of thy Brow. Nor hireling Quires
Attemp'ring to the Harp their warbled Airs,

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39

Thy Panegyric Chaunt; but hush'd in Death,
Like us thou ly'st unwept; a Corse obscene
With Dust, and preying Worms, bare and despoil'd
Of ill-got Pomp. We hail thee our Compeer?

How art thou with diminish'd Glory fall'n
From thy proud Zenith, swift as Meteors glide
Aslope a Summer-Eve! Of all the Stars
Titled the first and fairest, thou didst hope
To share Divinity, or haply more,
Elated as supream when o'er the North
Thy bloody Banner stream'd, to rightful Kings
Portending ruinous Downfal; wond'rous low,
Opprobrious and detested art thou thrown,
Disrob'd of all thy Splendors. Round thee stand
The swarming Populace, and with fix'd Regard
Eyeing thee pale and breathless, spend their Rage
In taunting Speech, and jovial ask their Friends,
Is this The Mighty, whose imperious Yoke
We bore reluctant; who to desart Wilds

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40

And Haunts of Savages transform'd the Marts,
And capital Cities raz'd, pronouncing Thrall
Or Exile on the Peerage? How becalm'd
The Tyrant lies, whose Nostrils us'd to breath
Tempests of Wrath, and shook establish'd Thrones.