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Messiah

A Poem, in Twenty-Eight Books. By Joseph Cottle

Cottle, Joseph (1770-1853)

MESSIAH:

MESSIAH.

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MESSIAH:

A POEM,

IN TWENTY-EIGHT BOOKS.

MESSIAH.

BOOK I.

Creation.

Of Earth, uprising at Jehovah's call,
Of Man, from dust created, lord of all:
How God, on his belovēd Son, bestow'd
This world, at first untainted, where there flow'd
A living stream of joy, till sin arose,
And with a wintry blast the fountain froze:
Of that peculiar race, to whom was given
The law divine, the will reveal'd of heaven:
How, when all hope had fled, all refuge fail'd
For man Messiah pleaded and prevail'd,
Tending his chosen, still, from age to age,
To thwart whose aims the powers of hell engage;

How, at the last, moved by compassion free,
He laid aside his robes of Deity,
And in the human form appear'd below,
Sorrow his portion here, with want and woe,
That he, by suffering, might repair our loss,
And perfect Man's redemption on the cross!
This be my Song! Oh! Thou, the Source of Light!
Grant me thy Spirit to direct my flight!
Father of Mercies! low, on thee I wait;
The instrument, how mean! the theme, how great!
Oh! deign to bless the work I fain would raise,
And to thy Name, alone, be all the praise!

In unrecorded time, stretch'd far away,
Deep 'mid eternity, in one display
Of love unutterable, to his Son,
Jehovah gave this world, when time had run
His destin'd round, ordain'd, while Mercy smiled,
From the wide blank, the void of chaos wild,
To rise, a humbler heaven, so sweet and fair,
Angelic happiness might flourish there.

Oft, while the pausing harp, and symphony,
Slow-dying, to the music of the sky

Short respite gave, Messiah—to the time
When earth might be, look'd onward. Joy sublime,
New joy arose! He sees his heritage!
Fruit of his Father's love!—the distant page
Unfolding, of th' Eternal's deep designs,
Alone, that in the hour appointed shines,
And feels afresh, that one commanding mind
Sways both, tho' each, to lower spirits blind
Seems diverse, as the clouds of parting day
Claim their own glory (in august array
Wide spreading) 'till, in one, they melt away.

The Highest, in the silence of his thought,
Spake!—and the Germ of Earth from nothing brought!
The seraph host, impatient, wait to see
This new creation of the Deity;
What forms may live! If creatures yet may rise,
Than all before, more eminent, more wise!
Brood not on darkness! To that Power alone
Who sees the end, the secret deep is known!
The dawn advances, in her glorious train,
First link of Being's never-ending chain!
Must Fancy still the soaring pinion tame,
Hope, drooping, tend her dim, expiring flame?

Times, seasons, in their long-extended round,
Move slowly on, and yet with night are found.
No Lucifer adorns the eastern sky!
No evening star thro' heaven glides silently!
No sound, no being, fills the dreary air!
Stillness intense, a lifeless waste is there!
The dormant atom trembles! On its breast
It feels the power of Deity imprest,
When, as the measurement duration knows
Came to the point ordain'd, this Globe arose!

Oh! beauteous Stranger! order and design
Worthy of God, in amplest gifts, are thine!
Nor didst thou start, such was the high decree,
From nothing, to thy full of majesty,
But passedst on progressive. Void outspread,
Shapeless, first marked thy rude ungenial bed,
When, at Heaven's mandate, light from darkness sprung,
Whilst, in mid air, Earth, like a balance, hung:
Then, dripping, from the seas, the mountain's head,
Stupendous, rose, crags, bare and bleachen, spread
In wild confusion—fearful to the eye
In barren greatness, while the valleys lie

Crouching beneath, in their brown vesture clad,
And silent all. To make the spirits glad,
Of the celestial gazers, now appear,
Luxuriant herbs, whilst trees their limbs uprear,
Wide spreading, bearing varied fruits mature
Of goodly aspect. In their vestures pure,
And prodigal of beauty, flowers divine
In rich diversity their charms combine,
Loading the playful breeze with odours sweet.
Now, in the arch of heaven, the fount of heart—
Proud orb of day, with delegated might,
Attracts in one creation's scatter'd light
And bursts refulgent. To the west he rides,
When, lo! his silent sister slowly glides,
In silver hue, up from the watery waste,
And shines in borrow'd lustre, mild as chaste.
Ah! now the heavens, in pomp august, appear,
Star heaped on star, untold, and sphere on sphere;
Some stedfast, twinkling some; all, thro' the night,
Pouring on earth their congregated light;
Whilst the whole host, in order fair, proclaim
His sovereign power, at whose command they came!
Advancing still, the world, in long array,
Now, life! presents, admiring, to the day;—

Creatures, in wide succession, large and small;
For food, who on their Common Maker call,
No other help! He hears! he answers all!
The teeming ocean, first, her children pours
Glad into being. Each the weight endures
Of conscious joy, from humblest things that be,
To where Behemoth wars, and valiantly
With wrathful waves. Next in their order sent
Birds countless throng the laughing firmament,
Waving their gorgeous plumage, rising high
Up to aerial regions: from the sky,
Now, wantoning in equal happiness,
The sea's cerulean wave they gently press.
Again Jehovah spake and from the ground,
Legions of creeping things came sporting round,
All beautiful! while some, with gausy wing,
Of colours infinite, Life's joyous spring,
Hail, and thro' air in wanton transports fly,
Or, uectar sip from flowers of every dye.
And now, still rising higher, majestic stand
The lordly beasts, or, moving o'er the land,
Taste the sweet verdure. Peaceful, as their days,
The wide campaigns, the lamb and lion graze,
Wolves and the basilisk; whilst slowly, thence,

Forcing his way, with gentle violence,
From 'mid umbrageous trees, the elephant
Walks stately, then, beside some towering plant,
Pauses to gaze on each transporting thing,
From fruits to flowers superb, from birds that sing,
To insects, to his brethren of the plain,
All made for happiness, nor aught in vain!

Form, colour, instinct, infinite as fair,
Crowded the scene, but not a mind was there!
A temple, grand, magnificent, arose,
Worthy of God, but things which now repose
On verdant beds, now 'mid the waters lie,
Roam o'er the earth, or, wanton through the sky,
See not their Maker! Plenteous draughts they drink
Of happiness, from each o'erflowing brink,
Eye, ear, taste, smell, and feeling, yet none knows
The secret fountain whence the blessing flows.
Ye Cherubs! pause!—Seraphs! your chaunt withhold!
Gaze o'er your battlements of gems and gold!
Omnipotence, yon new-created earth
Crowns with a Being of celestial worth!
The fiat came, all things that might perform,
And Man walks forth, erect, in god-like form!

Call'd from the earth to raise th' aspiring eye
And fearless look on Immortality!
So bless'd, so honour'd in th' Eternal's sight,
Our great progenitor, the sons of light
Equal'd in dignity! Each opening day
Unlock'd new store of joyance. Prompt to pay
Obeisance, and subserve his first desire,
Heaven, earth, and air, in unison, conspire
To swell his happiness. For him the sky
Glows with transcendent hues. The flowers that vie
In stately shape and beauty, o'er the scene,
Munificent, and as the heavens serene,
Shed fragrance, and in ranks perpetual shine,
Or, round the trees, their willing captives, twine;
Whilst still, to please the senses, in array
Of goodly aspect, fruits their charms display,
Which, in exuberance, and waving slow,
With every whispering breeze, fresh beauties shew.
The birds, in their excess of joy, gave forth
Anthems unceasing, while the tranquil earth
Knew nought of violence. All things were fair,
And worthy Him who spake, and, lo, they were!

Yet prouder gifts than these, our noble sire,

First-born, possest, and privilege far higher;
A soul, endued with passions, hopes, desires,
Of angel elevation! Who admires
Honour, and truth, and charity divine,
And soaring thought, of heavenly origin,
Which to all excellence the spirit move,
Pity for man, and for his Maker—love,
Lauds but the semblance of that glorious state,
That bloom of mind, that virtue consummate
Which Adam knew, when, with a heart devout,
He felt, and feeling raised the grateful shout,
A heaven within! a paradise without!

Yet was there one high gift he call'd his own,
The last and choicest blessing! Who, alone,
Feels happiness? To meet no kindred mind,
In tender sympathy and office kind,
Robs man of his best portion of delight!
Not so our Father, he, with rapturous sight,
Still gazed on our primeval Mother, fair,
And felt his sum of bliss completed there.

BOOK II.

Satan.

In realms remote, where never sun appears,
Where light torments, and deepest darkness cheers;
(If aught in unison with joy, might be
Briefly subjoin'd, where all was misery)
Satan, amid creation's utmost bound,
Th' Arch-angel fall'n! with his fall'n angels, found
Refuge from the intolerable frown
Of Deity incensed. The regal crown
Of snakes and twisted scorpions, on his brow,
Satan assumes, while hosts around him bow
Of the rebellious spirits. A faint glare,
A preternatural light, with darkness rare,

Conflicted, and a misty prospect gave
More terrible than midnight. Through the cave,
Th' immeasurable vast, of depth unknown,
The silent lightnings darted, and, alone,
Shed brief perplexing lustre. The dim shade,
With desultory beam o'erwhelm'd, display'd
Myriads, tormented! who, in anguish, gazed,
Nought seeing, far or near, but th' look amazed,
Now turning slow around, and now intense,
That each, on each, with ghastly prominence,
Cast ever, whilst no cheering breath serene
Broke the deep silence of that fearful scene

For utterance, vain, to find their bosoms swell;
To suffer, but to none their sufferings tell;
To feel the worm within, yet, to restrain
The soothing sigh that blunts the edge of pain;
This was their doom, save, when their spirits proud
Ask'd sufferance of the Highest, then, allow'd,
Dear-bought concession! Each of all around
Fill'd hell with lengthen'd groans t' her farthest bound.

After long silence (where th' accursēd crew
From many a prayer, half utter'd, back withdrew,

And drank the cup of anguish from the brim,
Rather than seek, semblance of good, from Him
Whom they opposed in heaven, and with vain might
Waged warfare follow'd by disastrous flight)
Satan, in pride abased, 'mid smother'd grief,
Ask'd, and received, the power of utterance brief.
Now rearing, slow, from out the subject flood,
His huge and dragon form, pausing he stood,
Or seem'd to stand, upon a livid mound,
Uprising from the lake, wide-stretch'd around.
Dark was its face, save when the heaving wave
Back to hell's fiery roof its lustre gave
With ominous reflection. The proud foe
Of God and man, gazed on the hosts below
With stern, contemplant brow. His spear, now higher,
He lifts, when, lo! the drop, the flake of fire
Falls from the half-raised beam (beneath the tide,
Extending far, as th' Ice-isle, steep and wide.)
The unusual noise, the look, inquiring, wakes,
From the vast host. Instant the surface shakes,
As round all turn, to mark their Chieftain bold;
With visage, each that th' pang tormenting told.
At sight so terrible, even Satan sigh'd;
And as he saw them, coiling on the tide,
Of sulphurous bitumen, thus he cried.

“Beings! the inmates of this doleful sphere
“Our common torments make us doubly dear!
“Remembrance of the state where once we shone,
“Call'd happiness, alas, for ever gone!
“Alas! We tear the feeling from our mind,
“And scorn to mourn what freely we resign'd.
“Our state of bliss was purchased at a rate
“Unworthy us! In might and glory great,
“Required to tune the harp and bend the knee,
“From servitude we fled to misery!
“'Twas well! And who around his state deplores,
“Let him, with lightning speed, forsake these shores!
“Lo! on our brow, th' imperishable hate,
“The scorn immortal, the fix'd frown of fate,
“Sit stable, and the pledge secure bestow,
“That we shall never barter for this woe
“Our thirst of Sovereignty! Jehovah's throne,
“Your chief had hoped, ere this, to make his own;
“Ev'n thought, by valiant deed—on the wide plain
“Of heaven, with trump, and spear, and martial train,
“To rise preeminent! Disastrous day
“That saw our force o'erthrown! Our long array
“We deem'd invincible, 'till that sad hour
“When, not the scourge of Gabriel, but the power

“Of Great Messiah, Heaven's support and boast!
“O'er the high ramparts, our astounded host
“Hurl'd head-long to these regions! Let it be!
“Form'd for endurance, tho' in misery,
“We know not to repent! One joy is ours,
“Unfelt above, amid perennial bowers,
“Tho' sweet they were!—no Sovereign we behold!
“Night weighs us down, and flames our limbs enfold;
“But here, amid this ever-during shade,
“Fealty is fled, or homage to none paid,
“Save me, your rightful Potentate, whose might
“Soon will restore you all to heaven, and light!”

By special sufferance, thro' the gleaming cave,
Myriads uprose, whilst fiery torrents lave
Their hideous limbs, and in a lengthen'd shout—
Terrific (a wild unimagin'd rout!)
The concave thunders! The distorted flood
Cast hideous shadows round, whilst fire and blood
Food of the damn'd! in sudden contact thrown,
That drown'd the lengthen'd sigh, and smother'd groan,
Hiss'd horrible, commingling with the roar,
Unheard till then, that shook th' infernal shore.

Satan thus spake. “Powers! potentates! revered,
“By angels, and heaven's proudest banners fear'd,
“No adamantine door confines us here.
“Tho' hazardous to dare yon starry sphere,
“All nature we may range, our guide, our will:
“But in this pool, 'mid this excess of ill,
“Finding faint happiness, we choose to lie,
“For here, with spirits lost, is sympathy.
“But I will leave the precincts now of hell,
“This lake, awhile, where kindred demons dwell,
“And on a distant embassy, obscure,
“Worthy your chief, from love of evil pure,
“Flap my vast pinion on the murky air,
“And, from the heavens, a star, now beaming, tear!
“Yea! I will tell you, plain, what deeds I dare.
“Tho' evil be my passion, I can blend,
“With my chief good, inferior aim, and end:
“Driven, as ye know, from yonder fields of light,
“By adverse conflict with superior might,
“Curse, of itself, a hell! One, whom to name
“Rekindles thoughts of our defeat and shame,
“Finding his phalanx thinn'd by hosts like ours,
“His strength would fain replenish. He, his towers,
“Feels trembling, and, to guard from our surprise,

“Hath bid a new-created World arise,
“Where he would, safe, Immortal Spirits raise,
“Our thrones to fill, and with our crowns to blaze.
“Till we have gain'd fresh hosts of dart and spear,
“In open fight, victorious, who shall cheer
“With such a hope, these doleful regions here?
“My strength is subtlety! Nor yet too late!
“Craft, and deep malice, and inveterate hate,
“I will combine, and blast, with glad success,
“This opening flower of new-made happiness!
“Your shout restrain. Then will we all prepare
“For huger conflict. With such ranks, and fair,
“Augmented from yon world, which I will snare,
“We, while our lance with ten-told rage is driven,
“Will mount and scale the battlements of heaven!”

The burst of exultation, thro' the place,
Still loftier rose. Each ghastly-gleaming face,
From th' red eye-ball, shot malignant fire,
As wider yet, th' intemperate shout, and higher,
Echoed in dread responses.

From his seat,
Satan beside nor with obeysance meet,

Beelzebub arose, and thus began.
“Tidings of some new planet, and of man,
“Its strange inhabitant, have reach'd our ear;
“But if celestial thrones we scorn'd to fear,
“When, in suspense, the trembling battle hung,
“And the loud shout of “Victory!” from our tongue
“Half utterance found, can we one doubt sustain,
“Who, out of heaven, o'er living things shall reign?
“I subtilty despise! nor less, I ween,
“This prince whom you have chosen. Falchion keen
“He boasted, and, with self-appointed pride,
“Led on your ranks, but we his might have tried;
“Where late we hoped success have found defeat,
“And, Oh! our refuge in this dark retreat,
“Where vengeance' self is spent. I bid you rise!
“Let me conduct this venturous enterprize!
“Your chief, and not your cause hath been to blame!
“With nobler zeal, and swords of fiercer flame,
“Grant me your aid, and we, in dread array,
“The creature, man, will crush, and back to day
“Force, with resistless spear, our easy way.

He ceas'd. Beelzebub with proud upbraid

On Satan gazed. He scorn with scorn repaid,
And with a ghastly lower of shuddering rage
Prepared the sword, impetuous war to wage!
Each rais'd his arm. Their fiery breath restrain'd,
The countless host gazed speechless. Terror chain'd
Each rebel heart, when Belial stepp'd between;
Belial, all hollow, with imposing mien,
Who never spake, with specious voice and smile,
But the soft look conceal'd the secret guile;
He thus began.

“Tho' pangs upon me rest,
“My anguish is for you. Within my breast,
“Self hath no place.—Poor sovereignty is here,
“I seek it not. Vain to conceal our fear,
“We were o'ercome, in fight, as I foretold,
“And he who vanquish'd, us, can safely hold,—
“Except you choose some chieftain, wise as bold!”
Fresh words he fain had pour'd, but, lo! a shout,
Terrific, thunder'd from the hideous rout,
Forbade his utterance. Satan mark'd his speech,
His aim, above his monarch, proud, to reach,
And treasured vengeance, in fit hour, to burst
Upon his rival, now, in silence, curst.

'Mid the brief pause, in slow and solemn state,
Mammon uprose, the proud-eyed potentate,
Who gave the lordly look on all around,
Satan, except; whilst, in the fight, renown'd,
Which lost them heaven, when all the rebel host
Fled vanquish'd, still his torment, and his boast,
Him last th' angelic legions, with vast might
Hurl'd, like a falling star, to realms of night.
Thus he began.

“In open war severe,
“So late o'ercome (when sword and glittering spear,
“Conjoin'd with our immortal panoply,
“Avail'd not, whilst from yonder blazing sky,
“A long inheritance! this noble band
“Fled, in wild ruin, from the lightning brand
“Of Great Messiah) how shall we confide
“In strength fresh kindled, when that strength we tried,
“Roused to stupendous eminence, yet found
“Our might avail not. On celestial ground
“We never more shall stand! The harp of gold
“We never more must hear, nor glad behold
“The flowers and fruits of paradise! Yet, hate
“Increas'd from memory of our fallen state!
“Scorn of all good which we enjoy'd in heaven,

“This yet is ours! To us, alas! are given
“Spirits inured to sufferance. To complain,
“We know not. Night, with still-encreasing pain,
“Now grown familiar, we can calmly bear,
“All, but th' undying pang, the worm, despair!
“But if the rankling wound we cannot heal,
“We will rejoice that others, too, shall feel;—
“Exult at th' eye around, in torment thrown,
“And in another's pang forget our own.
“Here shall rebellion reign?—that precipice
“From which so late we fell, which lost us bliss?
“Our leader, mightiest of the fallen host,
“In wisdom matchless, as in arms our boast,
“Our final confidence against mankind,
“The prop of hell! in his creative mind,
“For ever brooding on effectual ill
“How most to thwart, late-crown'd, Messiah's will,
“Deems subtilty, not strength, our noblest shield,
“To him, in one vast band, obedience yield!
“Or, I, 'gainst all, alone, will take the field.”

He ceas'd—when uproar of admiring sound
Shook the wide vault to its remotest bound.
Beelzebub, with look of sovereign scorn,

Mark'd the huge plaudit, when, of glory shorn,
Sudden he turn'd, and, with impetuous flight,
That mock'd the eye, sought out the blackest night.

Satan beheld his rival burst away,
Muttering the threat of vengeance—on some day,
Ere long to come; and, as the shout he rais'd,
Triumphant, and with look, defying, gazed,
Once more resumed. “In valour consummate,
“Nor less in guile, prime champion of debate,
“'Mid sore perplexity hath Mammon been;
“Nor deem I one, in search of ill, more keen,
“Invested with more rich luxuriance
“Of all that wins the soul to self and sense;
“More practised in each dark infernal art;
“One fitter to sustain imperial part,
“When spirits fierce, in their august career,
“Against th' Almighty's legions hurl the spear.
“Tho' faultless not, in virtues here revered;
“(Tho' in his heart despondency hath rear'd
“Her chilling banner, and repressed the zeal—
“Some portion of the hope which all should feel
“Who know their wrongs, who learn their strength, and pant,

“On heaven's high walls their stedfast foot to plant;)
“Yet, of the countless hosts that round me bend,
“On Satan's flight, he only shall attend.
“Permission ask I none. I call you round
“To hear my mandate! Spurning this dark bound,
“Region of woe severe, and anguish dire,
“These chains, this burning flood, this vault of fire,
“Lo! To lead on the lofty enterprize,
“And frustrate heaven, with God-like strength I rise.”

He said, and mounting on a cloud of flame,
Gave forth the monstrous length. His hideous frame,
Scale-cover'd, with the forked sting behind,
Rose luminous, whilst th' spirits here confined,
Outcasts from heaven and glory, uncontroul'd,
A sudden power received, their leader, bold,
To follow to the verge of his domain,
The neutral gulf that bounds the realms of pain!
But, Mammon, faithful to his lord, arose
On stronger wing, and thro' the gate, that throws
Twilight around, with Satan, in his might,
Pass'd, and, to earth, urged on the baneful flight.

BOOK III.

The Fall.

The Sun in pomp had risen. Creation wide
Teem'd with divinest beauty. Side by side,
Adam and Eve, in all their lofty state
Of innocence and dignity, sedate,
'Mid flowers of varied dye, and myrtle grove,
Breathing delicious fragrance, happy, rove
In converse sweet; now, pausing, to behold
The pendent fruits, mature, like gems and gold,
Waving with every breeze, and still array'd,
More gorgeous, as the sun-beam o'er them play'd.
All living things that fill the earth, the air;
All lovely sights, all holy forms were there,

Nor least, Old Gihon, with his ample tide,
Where countless birds, in sumptuous plumage, glide,
Or, upward soaring, wanton wild around,
Whilst, on the margin of the flood, are found
A thousand graceful beasts, in long array,
None bold, none timid, mild as closing day,
Amid the noon-day heat, from covert near,
As on the wave their second selves appear,
Drinking the draught refreshing, sweet as clear.

Jehovah calls! Adam the voice obey'd.
Jehovah, who, awhile, in needful shade,
Shrouded his glories. Thus, to our first Sire,
His Maker, spake. “Behold, yon orb of fire,
“This glorious host of things that happy be,
“All made in innocence, and all for thee!
“I form'd thee from the dust, no heir of strife,
“I in thy nostril breathed the breath of life,
“And gave thee all thou see'st, from age to age,
“To be thy fair and rightful heritage.
“One law is mine. The fruits of every kind
“That round thee hang, luxuriant, unconfin'd,
“Gather and eat; but of yon stately tree,
“The Tree of Knowledge, on high penalty,

“Touch not! If tempted, from the tempter, fly!
“For in the day thou eatest, thou shalt die!”

After long flight, as eve her mantle threw
O'er nature wide, Satan and Mammon drew
Within earth's verge; and when the orb appear'd,
Dimly descried, th' infernal chiefs uprear'd
Their crested heads, transported to behold
(Whilst clearer still the prospects round unfold,)
Their toil rewarded! Hovering in the air,
And meditating plans, how best to snare
Our unsuspecting parents, thro' the dark,
On buoyant wing, they pause. Now as they mark
Morn in her robes of gold, unfolding slow,
And cloud on cloud, in deeper crimson glow,
Magnificence thro' all the concave spread,
Whilst earth, one mass of glory rose; it shed
Sorrow's brief pang. The soul-subduing sight
Call'd to their minds, those regions of delight,
So late their home! and rather than this scene,
Steep'd in divine effulgence, so serene!
Their joy had been, to range the howling sky,
'Mid darkness, whilst the livid lightnings fly,
And thunders, with imperious rage, extend
Their ravage, to creation's farthest end.

Fearful, by step incautious, of mistake,
Aloft in air, Satan to Mammon spake.
“Behold our prize! Tho' lovely world it be,
“Our aim is havoc—object, misery!
“Each softer feeling, crowding on our mind,
“We must discard, to all but conquest blind.—
“In gentle converse, by yon roseate bower,
“The first-created pair, behold! A power,
“To stand or fall, the Highest hath bestow'd,
“The test, obedience! Rough and dangeous road!
“The fruit is fair, which doth to love intice!
“Yon towering tree, the pride of Paradise,
“They may behold, but must the taste abjure!
“This is their law. Made innocent as pure,
“Haply, by subtile art, and lies reveal'd,
“By process, cautious, man to us may yield
“His eminence of good; and we survey
“Heaven vanquish'd, whilst, in triumph from the fray,
“Back to our dark abode, we wend our way.”

Satan pursued. “Our toils must be prepared,
“First, for the Man, and that he be ensnared,
“In moment soon to come, do thou oppress,
“Full, in mid-day, his soul with heaviness;
“This train fulfill'd, to Eve thy visit choose,

“And, in her heart, slowly the thought infuse,
“Which may intice her from her lord aside;
“I, in the Serpent's form, will near her glide,
“And soon her choice the contest shall decide.”
This said, thro' clouds of every form and hue,
Downward to earth, the fiends their way pursue.

Now crimson morn had vanish'd, and the sun
Half thro' the heaven's his path of splendor run.
The Father of our race, with her beside,
Our ancient Mother, fair, Creation's pride!
'Mid bowers, with chaplet's crown'd, their hours beguile,
Whilst birds, in their magnificence, the while,
Give forth perpetual chants. The insect throng,
In varied murmurs, bear their loads along
Of nectar, from the flowers mellifluous round,
While on the breeze was heard no jarring sound,
But rather voice of joy, while Gihon, nigh,
In gentle flow, fill'd up the harmony.

To Adam, near, Eve thus her speech preferr'd.
“Lord of my joy, at morn, a voice I heard,
“(Beyond the Tree of Knowledge,) which awoke
“My tenderest care. Methought an angel spoke!

“When, turning, on the ground, a Serpent, fair,
“Wondering, I saw, with head aloft in air,
“And colours that eclips'd the orient beam.
“Toward me he hasten'd like a golden stream;
“And as I stood to hail so rare a sight,
“I heard thy distant voice, and with delight
“Sped on, to welcome, from thy early toil,
“Thee, with fond smile. The flowers that deck the soil,
“Are sweet, with every wide o'er-arching tree,
“But thou, of earthly good, art chief to me.
“While thou, upon this flowery bank, serene,
“Reclinest soft, I, yon enchanting scene,
“Once more will visit, and, anon, with joy,
“Return, to share, with thee, each sweet employ.”

Adam replied. “The cloudless sun is high,
“And o'er my passive sense steals silently
“The power of sleep. If aught thou hast survey'd
“Imperfectly, in sun-shine or in shade,
“Of this sweet world, to us so kindly given,
“For our abode and joy, by bounteous heaven;
“To search it out, with willing feet, prepare,
“And be thou wise as lovely, free as fair.
“But, oh! my best delight! receive from me

“Caution most kind. Yon interdicted Tree,
“Shun, as thou prizest life! Approach not near!
“Behold it not! Upon thy cheek, a tear
“Sits trembling. Have I err'd? How sweet to see
“Forgiveness, and the smile of charity!”
Eve, to her lord, gently her hand extends,
Then, with a look that whisper'd, we are friends,
Upon the lonely course, her footstep bends;
Whilst Adam, by the noon-tide ray opprest,
Slow on a bed of roses sinks to rest.

Thro' winding walks, with moss and flowers o'erspread,
While fruits around their spicy fragrance shed,
And visions of delight before her danced,
With fairy foot, our Mother, Eve, advanced.
No doubt of secret harm, no fear was there,
Where danger was unknown. From every care,
Free, as from ill, she paced her lonely way,
Now plucking as she past th' encumbering spray
That moved her tresses; now, a moment's space,
Turning aside, to give some bower a grace
From the luxuriant tendril. Lo! she came,
Unwittingly, to th' Tree of fearful name,

Of Knowledge, Good and Evil! As she spied
The tempting bough, deck'd with its clustering pride,
She turned away, instinctive, when she spake,
“Why should I fear to view it? For our sake,
“All things were made. Enough it is to shun
“The taste forbidden; but to be undone
“For gazing, that were penalty, severe,
“Unworthy of our Maker.”

Drawing near,
She mark'd the luscious fruit, a sight more fair,
Than Eden, else, could boast, beyond compare
In colour, shape, and fragrance—form'd to shine,
Where all arose in excellence divine.
Beholding thus, a Serpent, e'en the same!
From tufts of fragrant shrubs, unbidden, came,
Beauteous, as when the morn unveils her face.
Eve joyous view'd, for such transcendent grace,
Till then she saw not—such unearthly dyes
Of rain-bow hue, such meek and speaking eyes;
And when she saw, with what sweet gentleness,
The flower-bespangled grass it seem'd to press,
The Serpent, in her thoughts, obtain'd a place,
Higher than might beseem so mean a race.
Slowly, his dazzling crest, from earth he rais'd,

And, whilst with new delight our Mother gazed,
Thus, winning, spake.

“Kindred delight is ours.
“We both have left fair walks, and shady bowers,
“To view this Tree, all beauteous, rising high
“Above its fellows round in majesty,
“And teeming with such fruit as might entice
“Angels, for earth, to leave their paradise.”

The Woman, at the voice, so sweet and clear,
With undissembled pleasure, paus'd to hear
What more the stranger form might mean to say.
He, gliding up the Tree, from a fair spray,
His speech pursued.

“Freely, whate'er is good,
“God hath bestow'd, for pleasure or for food.
“This Tree invites. Taste its delicious fare!”
The Woman trembling spake. “All fruits that are,
“All trees, Creation's widest range may own,
“To us are given, but of this Tree, alone,
“We may not taste, for God, hath said, Most High!
“Ye, in the day ye pluck and eat, shall die!”
“You shall not surely die!” the Serpent spake.
“Why was it shewn, the vain desire to wake?

“And what is death? A blessing! Taste and be,
“As angels, wise; yourself, a Deity!”
Eve look'd again. In newer beauty bright,
It seem'd to stand, awaking fresh delight,
Sweet to the taste, and lovely to the sight.
She pluck'd and ate!

A cloud the sun o'ercast!
Amid the pause, sudden, an angry blast
Swept round! Whilst unresolved what this might be,
The Serpent, quick, descended from the Tree,
His rain-bow hues all flown! and from her sight,
Rush'd, rustling by, to seek the shades of night!
Eve trembling stood, now learning first to fear.
She could not pray! She could not drop the tear!
At length she spake. “Whatever woe attend
“Upon this deed, with God no more my friend,
“Adam shall feel the same. On him and me
“One sun shall shine, or joy, or misery.”
When, bold, she rent, heedless of Heaven's command,
A bough, most fair, that, tempting, waved at hand,
And, to her lord, far distant, bore away,
Oh, mournful hour for Man! the fatal spray

Adam refresh'd by welcome sleep and sweet,

Now, from his odorous bed, uprose, to greet
His blooming Partner—with unwonted haste
Bearing the fruit for him to prize and taste!
Adam, the palsy on his cheek, thus cried,
“Oh! Eve, my joy, my better self, my pride,
“Thou art deceived! Oh! wherefore didst thou stray
“From me, thy best protector? Not to day,
“Shall we our Maker hail!”

The fruit was fair,
And goodly to behold: nor yet aware,
How subtile was temptation, as he spoke,
He look'd again. The secret wish awoke!
Backward he starts! Eve nearer came and cried,
“Shall different states our mutual loves divide?”
Adam once more beheld! On God he thought,
His threatnings, then, to pleasure, dearly bought,
Gave up his heart, and, with the struggle great,
From Eve, the Fruit forbidden, took and ate!

Amid the scene, while evening, beaming mild,
O'er happy Eden, linger'd long, and smiled,
Jehovah, as the cool, refreshing breeze
Swept the last fragrance from the bowers and trees,
Walk'd forth, concealing thus his majesty,

In shape that human eye might dare to see.
“Adam!” he call'd. Not prompt, as erst, to share
Sweet converse, and the sight of God to bear,
Adam the voice, regardless, heard, and cried
To Eve, the still companion of his side,
“With both complete in joy, a third obtrudes:
“None else we seek in these sweet solitudes.”
Once more, his Maker call'd! Adam obey'd,
And left, with Eve, the thicket's twilight shade.
Jehovah spake. “Why from my sight retire?”
Quick in reply thus answer'd our First Sire.
“Naked we were, and as might seemly be
“From every eye retired, from light, from thee.”
Whilst now our Parents fain their face would hide,
With searching eye, Jehovah thus replied.
“Who told thee thou wast naked? Not till now
“That thought opprest. The forms that round thee bow,
“Know nought of shame. Insect, or bird, or brute—
“Hast thou dared taste of the Forbidden Fruit?”
For the first time the kindling blush arose!
And whilst around the vacant eye he throws,
Trembling, our Father spake. “With sight so sweet,
“The Woman tempted me and I did eat.”

Eve upward look'd, the tear upon her cheek,
And answer'd thus, with faltering voice and meek,
“The Serpent me beguiled.”—By power supreme,
Like evening in her last departing beam,
The Serpent, shorn of beauty, glided fast
To where they stood. Th' Almighty round him, cast
The look severe, which made each spirit quake,
When to the abject Serpent thus he spake.
(So alter'd now, and hideous, that, at sight
Of thing so vile, Eve started in affright!)
“Hast thou, Oh! form debas'd! with impious aim,
“Fill'd this once-happy Pair, with guilt and shame?
“The lasting enmity henceforth shall reign,
“Between thy seed and theirs, 'till one is slain.
“Prepare to meet Jehovah's fiercest frown!
“Dust shalt thou eat, and curses weigh thee down.

“Oh! Man! thy lot was privileged and fair:
“Bless'd with each good, beneath thy Maker's care,
“From morn to night, in one perpetual round,
“The kin of angels, joy thy moments crown'd:
“For all the homage wide Creation paid,
“Herself, like thee, in form divine, array'd!
“For intercourse with me, thy God! before
“Whom Cherubs bend and Seraphim adore,

“One only law was mine; that thou hast spurn'd,
“And willingly from Life Immortal turn'd!
“Oh! miserable being! On thy race,
“Death, and disease long-lengthen'd, and disgrace,
“Thou hast entail'd! A fire that long shall burn!
“Dust as thou art, to dust shalt thou return!

“Woman! regard thy sentence. Wise, too late!
“How art thou fall'n! from what high estate!
“Thou shalt bring forth in sorrow! Grief and pain,
“O'er thee, and o'er thy offspring, shall maintain
“The universal empire! But, oh! Eve!
“Mother of disobedience! still to leave
“One glimpse of joy, nor cast thee, without care,
“On the wide world, to anguish and despair,
“Tho' thy Seeds' heel be bruised, hope is not fled:
“Thy Seed, at length, shall crush the Serpent's head!
“And while thy Faith a distant Saviour views,
“Hail the first dawn of Grace. Oh! prone to choose
“Evil for good!—this garden of delight
“Must never more refresh your mortal sight!”
Thus having said, Jehovah, (whilst dismay,
And fear, supreme, on our First Parents prey,)
Upon the whirlwind rising, past away!

The sun that late the western concave cheer'd
Now, veil'd with clouds of dusky grey, appear'd.
The winds impetuous rose! The leaves around,
With flowers disshevell'd strew'd the restless ground!
Wide Gihon heaved his billows; when the night
Fell black and heavy! Gazing, with affright,
The hapless Pair stood motionless, and heard—
Starting! the howl of beast! the screech of bird!
The tumult of the elements enraged,
When cloud with cloud, and blast with blast, engaged!
Amid the fearful storm, a flame they spy,
And in the midst, a Spirit from the sky!
Wielding the sword of fire! Approaching near,
Whilst terror, conscious guilt, and tortuous fear
Opprest our Fallen Parents, thus he spake.
“From joy supreme! from heavenly bliss, awake!
“The judgment is gone forth, and this retreat,
“This lap of happiness, and influence sweet,
“This Paradise, henceforth must you forego,
“And earn your bitter bread, with toil and woe!
“To you the full of good was freely given,
“And for your fall, tears have been shed in heaven!
“Go forth!”

The Sire of Men, and Eve, beside,
Surrounded by supernal light, stretch'd wide,
Till melting into darkness, pensive stray,
Thro' Eden's well-known walks, a toilsome way!
'Mid paths where late they loved the prayer to pour,
And by the bowers that fragrance yield no more!

As now they Eden left, and mournful sigh'd,
Slow from his orient bed, in all his pride,
The ample sun uprose, and o'er the scene,
That shone with sweeter hues, and fresher green,
His richest radiance spread. The hapless Pair,
With toil alike o'ercome, opprest with care,
Paused, and, before the loved abode they past,
Stood thoughtful. Now a backward glance they cast
Upon their home, thus forfeited, so fair!
So tranquil and effulgent! Unaware,
The tear burst forth, when Adam faltering spake.
“My last farewell, oh! place, belovēd, take!
“Farewell, ye flowers, with every dye o'erspread
“Farewell, ye trees, that heavenly odours shed!
“Farewell, ye shady walks, ye bowers serene,
“Ye hills, from which we traced each goodly scene!

“Farewell, sweet Paradise! and, oh! farewell,
“The presence of our Maker! Grief may swell
“To anguish, and unutterable pain,
“When the rack'd spirit seeks for peace in vain,
“But what shall tears avail, shed evermore,
“And what, oh! what, the smile of heaven restore!”

Thus having said, with trembling step and slow,
Roses for thorns exchanged, oppress'd with woe,
Adam and Eve, alone, no rest in view,
From happiness, from God, their way pursue!

BOOK IV.

Satan. Beelzebub. Beliul. Heaven. Messiah.

As Satan, the proud potentate of hell,
And Mammon, whilst their kindred spirits swell
With hate and malice, earth-ward urged their way
To tempt the Parents of our race astray;
Beelzebub, no dreaded rival near,
Calls the infernal hosts, from regions drear,
Alike, and midnight, round him to attend.
With the warm promise, conquerors to ascend,
Erelong, to hope and heaven, they bend the knee,
In token of the chief's supremacy,
And vow, to follow, thence, with valiant deed,
Where he, alone, their rightful prince, may lead.

Ah! glow of morn, which fades upon the sight!
Satan and Mammon, like two clouds of night,
Troubling the air, in their impetuous flight,
Now, to the verge of hell, with day behind,
Draw near, to shout their triumph o'er mankind.

The gate, which the infernal spirit holds,
On grating hinge, t' admit them, slow unfolds.
No subjects liege, the venturous chieftain hail!
He gazes round, when, thro' the twilight pale,
Illumin'd now by momentary glare,
He sees Beelzebub his sceptre bear!
Like midnight lightning swift, he darts along,
Enraged, and as the blast of vengeance strong,
Thro' th' intermediate space. He lifts his arm,
Image of might! With ill-conceal'd alarm
Beelzebub beholds, yet forth upraised
The flaming sword for war, that hell amazed,
So ponderous, and so vast! They pause awhile,
Each fearing, tho' immortal. To beguile
Th' observing crew, who doubtful seem to stand
Which to reject, which follow. One, his hand,
Mammon! uprais'd, and spake. “In such an hour
“When we have triumph'd o'er th' Almighty's power,

“And vanquish'd earth and man, so ill repaid,
“Will you withdraw from Satan, thus, your aid?
“Now, soon to rise, in God-like strength, and bold,
“And seize our seats of bliss, our crowns of gold?”
The infernal host all listen, and arise,
Darting, upon Beelzebub, fierce eyes
Of scorn and indignation, as they spurn
His guidance, and to Satan back return.
The baffled fiend looks horrible, and feels
His feeble grasp relax. He bends! He reels!
And from the sable crag, on which he stood,
Now, headlong plunged, into the stygian flood!
Satan beheld him fall, and ere the wave
Closed over him, the shout terrific gave,
And hurl'd his lance! when, thus aloud, he cried,
“That fiend is now my scorn, tho' once my pride.
“Lust of dominion him hath led astray;
“Restless, he seeks to rule who should obey,
“Who shall! no choice! The power supreme I own:
“One reigns in heaven, one here, and one alone!
“I had resolved, Beelzebub to crown
“Vice-gerent, o'er yon world: to make renou'n,
“The thirst of sovereignty, the one great sin,
“His glory, which might earth to Satan win,

“But on his fealty, I may never rest!
“Mammon, with rule supreme will I invest,
“He is the prince of self, upon whose train
“All evils follow. He, with golden chain,
“Will lead his captives on, from crime to crime,
“Blind them, and make the withering flowers of Time,
“(Its momentary joys, ill-understood,)
“Seem more to be desired than God and Good.
“To farthest age, my will, the stamp of fate!
“Mammon shall be earth's sovereign potentate.”
All hell exclaim'd, shaking their fiery chain,
In tumult wild, “Mammon o'er earth shall reign!”

His subjects now reclaim'd, all, gather near,
Of conquer'd earth, of ruin'd man, to hear.
Satan thus spake.

“Tho' doleful night is yours,
“Proud, and majestic powers! while each endures
“Pain, torment once! combined with sense of wrong,
“Wearily borne, delights to us belong,
“Soon to be won in conflict, when the spear
“In mortal strife, once more, 'gainst heaven we rear.
“Our triumphs learn.

“Far toward the utmost reign
“Of nature, after search, and long in vain,
“We reach'd a beauteous world; and now 'mid bowers,
“Fragrant, o'ercanopied with sumptuous flowers,
“(Ah! I must cease! Such words inflame despair!
“I will not call it lovely, tho' it were)
“We found the creature, Man. A form he bore,
“So proud and angel-like, that, not before,
“Witness'd we such, save in the upper sky.
“But let the thought abhorr'd for ever die!
“The Pair, we saw, placed in this new-made seat,
“Wherein there grew a Tree which form'd retreat,
“Both spacious and effectual from the sun,
“That, o'er their head rejoicing seem'd to run.
“Although a thousand trees around it rise,
“This tree, the Tree of Knowledge, to their eyes
“Stood, manifest, the pride of Paradise.
“Yet eminence, more lofty, it possest.
“Fruit, tempting to the eye, its boughs opprest;
“And this alone had God to Man denied,
“On penalty of death, and ruin wide,
“To him, and to his race. With subtile art,
“The Woman first we tempt. On her, apart

“From him, her lord, I soon prevail'd to taste!
“She ate and fell! Returning now in haste
“To seek the Man, she tempted him. He ate!
“When both fell headlong from their lofty state!
“Blasted thus early in their hour of prime,
“They and their offspring, to the end of time,
“Are ours! In vain the vanquish'd may retreat,
“This deed, o'er heaven, our triumph seals complete!
“Tho' far our dreary region spreads and wide,
“And deep and broad this spirit-torturing tide,
“The compass is too strait! Such hosts, erelong;
“Of beings lost, this lower world will throng,
“That, roused to fuller courage, in that day
“When we assault, in our august array,
“Heaven's phalanx, we may lift th' aspiring eye
“And scorn the doubt of final victory!”

Satan again. “Supreme in their disgrace,
“These long precursors of a countless race,
“Whose children still our outcast host must swell,
“All born in sin, who in their father fell,
“Their Maker views with hate. In high disdain,
“Terrific, at the Man thus form'd in vain.

“I heard him say. ‘Thy lot is toil and woe.
“‘The thorn, the briar, around thy path shall grow.’
“And what this means, he soon with pangs, will know!
“Never shall man in th' upper skies rejoice.
“He, like ourselves, hath made an evil choice.
“Not now, our vacant thrones, will he possess,
“Whilst, fallen, fallen, down from happiness,
“Earth scorns him, heaven rejects him. From the ground
“God call'd him into being; left unbound,
“Even to the utmost latitude, his will,
“To shun the proffer'd good, or choose the ill.
“His solemn law he spurn'd, and, his command,
“Hath he held light: now, from his Maker's hand,
“He bears the penalty. He, and his race,
“Within the Book of Life will find no place:
“But when a few short years of ceaseless care
“Have taught them, what to mourn, and how to bear,
“Their souls will sink to blackness and despair.”

When the wide roar had ceas'd all hell to shake,
Belial sedate arose, and thus bespake.
“Say! Is the world thus gain'd for ever ours,

“Seal'd with the stamp of fate? These pleasant bowers,
“Man, yet, by craft, may win; but thou, all-wise!
“Wilt choose some spirit liege, to guard the prize
“With ceaseless vigilance. All are not true,
“Tho' fair they speak, of this loud-shouting crew.
“But who shall counsel thee?”

Satan replied,
With biting scoff, nor wish'd he such to hide.
“Chieftain, and glorious! faithful ever found,
“Who friend hast none, or to betray, or wound!
“Majestic! Satan's rival! the great stay
“Of this vast multitude, thy lord away!
“Oh! fiend! that, vaunting, high thy head dost rear,
“With all thy ceaseless pains and thought austere,
“Whose deepest schemes on th'surface plain appear!
“Base as thou art, thou still may'st feel delight—
“I heard th' Almighty, ever, from his sight,
“Banish the disobedient; but, to leave
“No way, how man his state may yet retrieve,
“Thro' regions vast, an endless waste of air,
“Up to the new-made world will I repair.
“If spirit, true to ill, and loathing good,
“(And there were none beside, on this dark flood,)
“Needed had been, thou hadst before me stood;

“But now the course of war, myself will guide:
“I, to no second arm, will power confide,
“Altho' its prowess, mightiest thrones allow'd,
“But last to thee, most abject, yet most proud:
“Hence! blotted out! abased! a shape forlorn!
“Too poor to be despised, too mean for scorn.”
Turning, to the applauding concourse round,
Thus he pursued. “I will the war-note sound!
“Leave yon deserted demon, spurn'd in hell!
“We must on other theme, and nobler, dwell.
“Heaven to oppose, requires all Satan's might:
“I will ascend to wage the valiant fight,
“Legions beside; whilst, as the children rise,
“Infected, by their parents, thus our prize,
“Inveterate fiends shall follow, and intice
“To evil, of all kind—so, Paradise,
“Man shall no more behold, but his whole race,
“Be aliens from their Maker, and efface,
“By sin persisted in, the Image fair
“Of Deity, they once rejoiced to bear!
“Thus have I conquer'd earth! from age to age,
“To be my own devoted heritage!”

He ceas'd, when all th' infernal host, wide spread,

With simultaneous impulse, discord dread!
Upstarted, eager, from the fiery tide,
And, “Satan, lord o'er all!” exultant cried.
The master fiend, the shout disdain'd to hear:
His right he knew, and, on his high career,
Man, to enslave, and heaven's designs confound,
Stern, meditates, while tumult reigns around.
At length he raised his hand, and all was still,
When sternly thus he spake. “The law! My will!
“Our choicest Names, and Thrones, a countless host,
“Princedoms and Potentates, our pride, and boast,
“Now must attend on Satan's voyage, fleet,
“To seal man's ruin, and my work complete!
“Where flees the demon from yon vacant seat?
“Beelzebub I hate, yet, at this hour,
“His influence may advance his monarch's power;
“For where he is the cloud of ill must lower,
“And, soon, around, tempests their fury shower.
“Ah! Belial, too, to infamy consign'd,
“I e'en for him some abject work may find;
“Seek them, where'er their haunt, and let them learn
“Whose mandate calls, which they, in vain, must spurn.”

A host upsprung, from the sulphureous tide,

To find th' Arch-Fiends: and now, in wanderings wide,
Thro' darkness, save when lightning, and the glare
Of flaming cataract illumed the air,
They sought the lonely spirits. Long, in vain,
Thro' light and shade, they toil'd, when, lo! a chain,
From under a black mount, extending, shew'd
A cavern, with some unexplored abode.
“Beelzebub! and Belial!” loud they shout!
The demons heard th' intemperate voice without,
(As they in close debate beguiled the hour,
How best to hurl their Monarch from his power,)
And trembled. Whilst th' assailants joy proclaim'd,
They drag them forth, with shame and rage enflamed,
Reluctant, like some tide, with alter'd course,
And, to their prince, the struggling demons force.

Thus Satan spake. “Approach! We now are bound
“To yon New World, perpetual war, to sound,
“And urge, to me, obedient from their birth,
“Yet, farther from all good, the sons of earth.
“Thou, B'elzebub! shalt follow where I lead.
“I do not ask thy service. Of deep need
“Thou must exert thy blackest influence,
“In yonder vanquish'd world, o'er sight, and sense.

“Thou art the Lord of War! nor shall there be,
“E'en there, for Satan's throne, a prop like thee.
“Per-force, I place thee in that element,
“Where thou wilt thrive, the plant of discontent!
“Thou must, the restless, and the turbulent,
“Win to profoundest homage. Thou wilt guide
“Monarchs—to pant for power, and, carnage wide,
“Teach them to contemplate, without dismay:
“Thou wilt the blackest deeds, in light array,
“Make lord, with lord, and prince, with prince, engage,
“Their God, ambition! on, with hideous rage,
“Lead them, to dye, with blood, the fruitful plain,
“Whilst demons scream in air, and count the slain!

Turning to Belial, his compeer in fame,
Who near him stood and strove to hide his shame,
Both trembling, both to equal wrath awake,
Hardly restrain'd, Satan imperious spake.
“Fiend! hear thy lord! Oh! I will soothe my ire!
“Must lightnings kindle, ere the spark expire?
“Hear me, Oh! Belial. Prospects now unfold,
“Such as shall warm, afresh, thy spirit cold.
“So great! thou shalt not dwell inglorious there,
“Where now we speed. Oft will occasion fair

“Call forth thy eminence of craft and guile.
“If near, or far remote, some Being Vile
“Should pant for rule, and bound, in favour'd hour,
“From meanness to the pinnacle of power;
“In domination proud the sceptre wave,
“Proclaiming earth his empire, man his slave:
“If in yon world, one, such, should ever rise
“(Thy counterpart, whom imps and men despise!)
“Oh! Belial! thou shalt claim him, as thy prize.
“Thou, o'er his breast, imperial sway shalt gain.
“His spirit thou shalt urge, to forge the chain
“That shackles freedom. He, inspired by thee,
“Shall poison captives in their misery;
“Murder shall deem his calling: waste whole climes
“With sword and fire, and deluge them with crimes:
“By arts, surpassed not here, and subtile ways,
“Pull down the Lawful King, th' Usurper raise;
“And that his name, in th' firmament might blaze
“Of Demon Potentates, with fury blind,
“Invade the peaceful, the defenceless grind,
“Make blood his passion, and, in towering pride,
“Provoke the storm, he would, but cannot guide.
“He, urged by thee, on war, his all shall stake,
“Insult his foes, and, reckless, friends forsake;

“Now worship heaven, and now, with equal ease,
“All faiths alike, to idols bend his knees.
“Haply, some turn, in the career of fame,
“May send him to the dust, from whence he came,
“And teach, what all our sons, at last, shall learn,
“That we, awhile, can use, and then can spurn.
“Oh! that such spirit human heart might sway!
“With the warm hope of that auspicious day,
“I will the vacant throne, in hell prepare,
“And pant for one, like him, my pang to share,
“And grapple, sad and silent, with despair.
“With hearts too proud to parley, or to fear,
“Now, to the world remote our course we steer.”
He said, when up they rose, the spawn of night,
Satan, himself, the first, and urged their flight,
Vain aim! to oppose, Jehovah, infinite!

When Man, in state of innocence, untried,
Gazed on the Tree of Life, and ate, and died,
The angel, who recorded human deed,
Up to heaven's thrones fled with disastrous speed;
The beryl gate, self open'd as he past,
And the dread news thro' heaven brief twilight cast.
The harp of gold, in plaintive note, and slow,
Murmur'd the doubtful sound, allied to woe;

The note, portentous, thoughtful, Cherubs feel,
Whilst thicker clouds the Throne of God conceal.

Ah! who is that, amid the ranks on high,
Enthroned in more than angel majesty?
Whose sun-like face, awhile, forbears to shine,
Compassion in his look, and love divine?
Ah! who is that, beside Jehoyah's throne,
Whose sway, the faithful powers delighted own?
On whom th' adoring seraphs fix their gaze,
And, at the sight, redouble songs of praise?—
Messiah! grief, if transient grief might be,
In him, disturbs the mind of Deity.
O'er the wide range of heaven's extended plains,
The harp breathes slow, and silence now maintains,
When, from the misty throne, a murmur faint,
Went forth, at which, the Seraphim, and Saint,
Fill'd with o'erwhelming awe, bent low their head,
And, on the ground, their palms celestial spread.
The Father spake.

“Messiah, Oh, my Son!
“Man his short race of innocence hath run!
“My only law, my one command, he spurn'd,
“And, choosing ill, from life immortal turn'd!

“Rebellion swept fair spirits from the sky,
“And Man must pay the penalty and die!”

Suspense, thrice heighten'd thro' the heaven, prevail'd!
The harp still mute, the voice harmonious fail'd!
Angels, tho' trembling at the sentence dread,
Gave the “Amen!” and deeper bow'd the head.
After a pause, such as the heaven before
Ne'er witness'd, when, their Maker to adore,
Angels awhile forgot, as one awake,
From what on earth were woe, Messiah spake.

“Father, revered, the clouds thy presence screen,
“And shades on shades, still deepening, intervene.
“At thy displeasure, at thy frown severe,
“The heavens, with all their glory, disappear!
“And, must the world, created late so fair,
“Th' o'erwhelming weight of thy displeasure bear?
“The sun that rose immaculate as bright,
“Fall from the sky, and sink in endless night?
“Must Man, the voice, “Depart!” unceasing hear,
“Nor one faint hope his drooping spirit cheer?”

Whilst joy, the spring of heaven, forgot to flow,
From the thick cloud, there came the accent slow;

“My law, my justice, satisfied must be,
“And all that is—obedience yield to me!”

Messiah spake. “Father, all infinite!
“Great Source of Good, without whom heaven were night!
“Through wide eternity, that endless chain,
“Hath e'er thy Son preferr'd the prayer in vain?
“Oh, hear! On me didst thou bestow yon earth!
“Arch-angels hymn'd hosannah's at its birth!
“And when, thro' heaven, at first, its race begun,
“The stars rejoiced! whilst I, thine only Son,
“If the excess of love might increase know
“Felt, through my heart, affection deeper flow.
“Must such a scene, so bright, no longer shine,
“Where all was good, the work, the glory thine?
“Ere the first sun, in shrouded pomp, declines,
“Shall hell, in triumph, frustrate heaven's designs?
“Is there no hope for Man? Within I feel
“The secret love, the power of pity steal!”

The prostrate angels to the throne on high?
Look'd up, while deeper silence fill'd the sky.
From the cloud-cover'd seat, a voice went forth,
“Oh! Son! for disobedient man, for earth,

“Thou pleadēst, but the way thou hast not shewn,
“How Justice, still attendant on this throne,
“Can, at the broken law, her frown restrain:
“Mercy but makes the threat of judgment vain!”

Messiah spake. “Father! with reverence due,
“Oh, let thy Son, his earnest prayer renew!
“Thy pure and holy law, from all, requires
“Unfeign'd regards, the heart's supreme desires,
“Devotion full. Man, with presumption high,
“Hath forfeited thy favour, and must die!
“He hath renounced his best, his only friend;
“Form'd from the dust, he must to dust descend!
“But shall he never more, in fresher bloom,
“Leave the long night, the silence of the tomb?
“Is hope for ever flown? Must his whole race,
“Thus tainted in their Head, no step retrace,
“But fall, without a help, or refuge near,
“From all the joy that beams around Thee here?”

No sound was heard. The angels, as they bent,
Turn'd toward the throne, and looks benignant sent.
When, from the cloud, once more, the voice proceeds,
“Oh! Son, beloved! Thy tongue with pity pleads,

“But how shall God be just, yet justify
“Th' ungodly, as exposed to death they lie?”

The beam of mercy, on Messiah's face,
Shone with intenser zest, and holier grace,
When, moved by love, he cried. “The guilty spare!
“Let me the weight of thy displeasure bear!
“Tho' sin hath marr'd what thou didst form to bless,
“And made thy Paradise, a wilderness;
“Let man find favour! I the debt will pay!
“Upon this head alone thine anger lay!”

Jehovah spake, whilst heaven still paus'd to hear.
“Wilt thou the burden of my anger bear,
“Oh! Son, beloved? If, in my secret will,
“The thought of mercy, I may cherish still,
“Should Justice' claim be satisfied, toward earth,
“Thus tarnish'd, in the morning of her birth?
“If I my waiting thunders should restrain,
“Nor yet regard yon world as form'd in vain,
“Wilt thou, than heaven, more innocent, more pure,
“My frown sustain, my wrath for sin endure?
“Explore some new and living way divine,
“How man may live, and still my justice shine?

“The spoiler hell o'ercome, the captive save,
“And lead, thro' death, to bliss beyond the grave?”

Heaven caught new rapture from Messiah's eye,
As thus aloud he cried—“Man shall not die!
“Joy, yet unfelt, heaven's harps and hearts shall swell!
“One shall exult o'er death, and vanquish hell!
“I, freely, will man's ransom undertake—
“These thrones, with Thee, Oh! Father! for his sake,
“A while, resign, and, to yon earth descend,
“To be the Outcast's hope, the Sinner's Friend!”

The music of that voice, with joy unknown,
The angels heard, bending around the throne,
And in spontaneous ardour, unrestrain'd,
Gave forth the voice of ecstasy, unfeign'd,
“Hail, Son of God!” Hark! still the notes ascend,
“Oh! Hail! the Outcast's hope, the Sinner's Friend!”

Jehovah spake. “Oh! Son! thy will is mine.
“Freely, to thee, yon world, I hence resign!
“Descend, and take thy own! The government,
“Rests on thy head, and thou wilt still augment,
“By all thou dost, thy Father's aim, and bring,
“To join these glorious ranks, that ever sing,

“Glory to God! a People saved from hell,
“Redeem'd, and Sanctified, with us to dwell!”

That instant, welling from the mercy seat,
Th' River of Life flow'd on with murmur sweet!
The cloud grew bright! The darkness past away!
Heaven's jasper thrones their wonted blaze display!
Waving their palms, the prostrate Seraphs rise,
Whilst loud the “Halleluia!” rends the skies!

Slow from his Father's side, the Son descends.
Gabriel he sought, whose might all might transcends,
Of heavenly order. Michael near him rose,
When thus Messiah. “Angels! our repose,
“We leave, with Mercy's banner fair unfurl'd,
“To rescue from her woes, a Fallen World!”
To the two Seraphim, thus having said,
Messiah, his majestic wing outspread,
And with his bright Attendants, thro' the skies,
Down to the Race Condemn'd, triumphant flies!

BOOK V.

Adam. Abel. Messiah.

Upon the wings of mercy, down the sky,
Messiah, and the bright arch-angels, fly;
And now, earth's orb clear opens on their sight,
Resplendent in the morn's unfolding light.
With pure spontaneous love to man opprest,
By Gihon's shore, on Eden's fields they rest.

The flowers arose, but none were there to see!
The birds gave forth their sweetest melody!
The smooth broad river stately wander'd there,
Where many an islet rose in verdure fair,
Shedding its deeper shade on waves below,

That far reflected evening's fervid glow,
Yet, what a change! The Spirit of the place
Hath vanish'd! That which gave the whole a grace
Is gone for ever! Balmy breath, and sweet!
Altho' unprais'd, still haunt the lone retreat!
Ye trees, in clusters gay, luxuriant rise!
Put forth, oh, garden! still, thy loveliest dyes!
Flow on broad river! Birds! in all your pride,
Wheel thro' the air, or o'er the current glide!
And, earth! and heaven! in pomp of beauty drest,
Crown, with all joy, the place, Jehovah blest!
But, oh! your Lord is fled, of hapless name,
Who knew, alone, from whence your glories came!
What are the regions, tho' divine they be,
Where evil reigns, or where no eye doth see?
Here innocence is none, no being true
Who can in Nature's face her Maker view!
They, for whose sake these forms of love were made,
Have forfeited their state, and far have stray'd
Thro' briars, and dreary wastes, and deserts wide,
Without a hope to cheer, without a guide,
Deploring, in their anguish, when too late,
The fruit of disobedience, and their state,
Now, abject as the dust, before, so great.

This Garden of Content where each desire
Lived, but to know fulfilment and expire;
This lovely spot—fairest beneath the sky!
Must never more refresh a mortal eye!
The Traveller, round the world, shall seek it long,
The raptured Bard shall praise it in his song,
And, turning from a world of storm and guile,
On fancy's airy visions, look and smile.
The dream may clothe its bowers in beauty bright,
But, lo! they vanish with the morning light.
To find this spot, where joys perpetual reign,
The toil-worn child of earth shall wish in vain,
Still hoping for the golden fruit and field,
And, but with life, the fond illusion yield!

Amid this scene that every joy inspires,
Which thus our parents left for thorns and briars;
Messiah rested and matured the plan,
To save from death, the ruin'd sons of man.
With prospects, such as none in thought might see,
Musing he gazed, into futurity.
Again, for man, to win th' unshackled will;
To turn to good what Satan meant for ill;
To mould each incident of time and place,

Pertaining still to earth's remotest race;
To rescue hosts, which angels might in vain
Attempt to count, from sin's enslaving chain;
This temple now, in form august, appear'd;
His mind creative this vast fabric rear'd.
An aspect, less severe, permission gave
For Gabriel thus to speak. “The world to save
“Thou freely hast resolved—wilt thou, this hour,
“Restore frail man to his primeval power?”
Messiah answer made.

“Thou dost but see,
“The present, I behold what is to be!
“My Father's honor, and my Father's praise,
“These are my aims. Long and tumultuous days—
“Scenes where all evil in succession rise,
“To times, far distant, move before my eyes.
“The road is rough that many a saint must tread,
“Ere yet, serene in death, he rests his head!
“Anguish must reign, to thee not understood,
“And present Ill conduct to fulure Good.
“Almighty power, for ends thou canst not tell,
“Satan permits, the fiend! on earth to dwell;
“But, merciful as great, this dark design,
“At length in wisdom's sun-like robe will shine;

“And all conspire to serve his aim, above,
“Whose end is happiness, whose heart is love!
“Mark, as becomes created form like thee,
“Life's varied scenes unfold and trust in me!

“Not idle gazers, while yon moon endures,
“Commissions of delight shall oft be yours:
“You are my messengers, in their distress,
“Ere long, to cheer the heirs of blessedness;
“To minister of joy, to guide, defend,
“Earth's ransom'd sons, who make their God their friend;
“Even all whose spirits seek the light divine,
“And cheerfully, for heaven, the world resign.
“As earth advances, and her tribes fulfil
“Their march, from realm to realm, encreasing still,
“Seraphic hosts, from yonder thrones on high,
“My voice shall summon. These, their native sky,
“Joyful, will leave, and make, with you, their care,
“All whom I love, and who my image bear.”

Time rolls along! A thousand pangs oppress,
The Mother of our race. In bitterness,

A son and sons she bears, whilst Adam, still,
Breaks the rough clod and learns the earth to till.
Toils, lengthening with the day, his spirit bend,
On him, forlorn, the evening mists descend;
And tho in gold the stately sun declines,
No light upon his breast, deserted, shines.
His gaze he fixes on the darkest cloud,
Uttering in anguish, “Woe is me!” aloud:
And as all forms recede from mortal eye,
And silence marks, alike, the earth, the sky,
Amid the solemn hour, in accent slow,
The same sad words declare his weight of woe,
Whose heart, contentment sweet, must never know.
When half refresh'd with night's distemper'd sleep,
The morning sun, calls him to wake and weep:
Past scenes arise in a perpetual train,
The joys of Paradise will haunt his brain,
The image ever green, its fruits and flowers,
The music of its groves, its pleasant bowers,
Its walks, beside the sun-illumin'd stream
With the deep splendors of the evening beam,
To memory fresh, yet freshest in his dream.
Tho' plunged, at every view, in sorrow's wave,
He must contrast the storms that round him rave,

With the repose, abiding, of that place,
All lovely, hill and valley clothed in grace,
Whose mass of beauty, never on the wane,
Lay tangible upon his feverish brain.
But, oh! the poison of the asp to shed!
His intercourse with God! he feels, is fled!
All darkness, in the mind where light abode!
And naught but weeds, strewing his mortal road!
Too late he finds the penalty severe
Which disobedience brings. Aroused to fear,
Trembling, he sees, (instructed from on high,
By visions of the night, all prophecy!)
The miserable road, the dreary way,
Thro' which the homeless pilgrim, Man, must stray;
Whilst, crowding round earth's lazar-house, await
Malice, impetuous rage, tormenting hate,
Pains, wasting maladies—a hideous train,
That he with tears, must mourn, yet mourn in vain!

What sight is that? No beast, of savage race,
Pursuing, lo! a man, in hurrying pace,
Flees, breathless, wild, from where an altar rude,
Dyes blue, with smoke, the leafy solitude.

Upon his garb of skin, the clotted gore
Stands manifest; and now he stops to pore—
Remorse repell'd, revenge upon his brow
Still lingering! Ah! a brother's murderer thou!

Adam before the breathless victim stands,
With tear suspended, and uplifted hands;
Whilst the sad Mother, in her anguish deep,
Conceals her face, and turns aside to weep!
The Father, gazing on the corse below,
Thus, with the burden'd heart, pours forth his woe.

“Is this my Son, stretched on his bleeding bed?
“The form is here, but, lo! the soul is fled!
“Thy load, oh, sorrow! and thy growing fears!
“Long have I known, and dew'd my couch with tears,
“But till this hour, familiar with the sigh,
“I knew not the supreme of misery!
“Oh! that my throbbing brain might cease to know,
“Who rais'd the murderous hand, and laid thee low!
“Dear bleeding offspring! whom my hopeful eyes
“Saw, like a stately tree, to manhood rise;
“In whom, such unison of close degree,
“I seem'd to live, another self in thee!

“How shall I learn my anguish to subdue,
“Oh! how repeat, the long, the last adieu!
“Vain shall I wait, as evening's beams retire,
“To hear an Abel greet his weary Sire,
“And in his kind, consoling voice, awhile,
“Sorrow forget, half cheated to a smile!
“And must my limbs, the chain of death confine!
“My head be laid as low, as still as thine!
“Must soon this frame be motionless, and cold!
“These eyes, no more, the cheerful day behold!
“This heart forget to beat, this spirit fly
“To realms, to worlds unknown! Deep agony!
“There dwells the sentence living man must mourn—
“‘Dust as thou art, to dust shalt thou return!’
“Oh! Sin! what evils in thy train attend!
“I have no refuge now, no home! no friend!
“No God! to whom to look, with all my care,
“And offer up, sweet solace, praise and prayer!
“Chill winds, and rude, do on my spirit blow!
“Nor is this pang my utmost depth of woe—
“Earth, for my sake, endures the curse severe!
“There is no virtue in the contrite tear!
“I sink, unpitied, in th' o'erwhelming flood,
“Whilst Man shall mourn my fall, in showers of blood!”

Messiah, as a spirit, from on high,
Arrests the murderer, as he fain would fly!
Solemn! and with o'erwhelming dignity,
To Cain he spake. “Thy Brother, where is he?”
Cain answer'd (eldest born of black renown!)
“Am I my Brother's keeper?” With a frown,
Messiah spake, a look as death severe!
“Lo! from the ground, thy Brother's blood I hear!
“Go forth, a wretched outcast! Toil and woe,
“With scorn, shall like a torrent, o'er thee flow,
“And death, erelong, remorseless, lay thee low!”
Cain turn'd, and, turning, spake, amid despair,
“My curse exceeds what human heart can bear!”

To Gabriel (whilst, in awe, he stoop'd to hear,
Michael, the high Arch-Angel, bending near)
Messiah, Son Divine, majestic spake.
“Tho' virtueless, I will not Earth forsake!
“A deed is done, which Satan's rage displays!
“A Brother lifts his hand, a Brother slays!
“This the first fruit of Sin! Man's infamy,
“The evening of his days, distinct I see!
“Ah! now a Soul draws nigh, my tender care!
“Whom Satan, head-long, down to night would bear,

“But he is mine! Th' infernal powers, in vain,
“Stretch out their grasp, and shake the fiery chain.
“This is th' unbodied spirit, first t' explore
“The new and shadowy realm. The earthly shore
“It left reluctant, and awaits, from me,
“Some home! nor shall it want felicity!
“Where is the boast of hell?—his towering head?
“Who enters first the regions of the dead
“Is innocent! is saved! Jehovah's friend!
“The star of hope to man, 'till time shall end!

“In countless hosts—dark'ning the mid-day sky,
“I saw the Fallen Angels hither fly,
“Bent to molest, and further lead astray
“Man's sinful race, but I their course will stay!
“Such power supreme my faintest words contain,
“That I might send them back, with high disdain,
“And, o'er their rayless gulf, forever plant,
“Th' impenetrable bar of adamant!
“Yet, 'till the hour arrive, th' appointed day,
“Which shall my purposes of grace display,
“Satan must reign!—with tyranny severe,
“O'er the wide earth, his rebel standard rear!

“Yea, oft the partial victory proclaim,
“Exulting in his strength, his lordly name—
“God of this World! But I will then maintain,
“(When the last moon forlorn shall wax and wane,
“And all the sons of light are gather'd in)
“My power supreme, and hurl the javēlin!
“Resistless, whilst the fiends of darkness fly,
“Scourg'd on by lightnings, down to misery!

“The day shall come, for which all days prepare,
“When each, who ever breath'd this vital air,
“Shall stand before my Throne, and hear from me,
“The sentence—lasting as eternity!
“Till then, for all who float on time's vast tide,
“Two different states, remote, will I provide!
“The plastic thought new-moulds! this earthly frame,
“And what before was nothing, hath a name!
“Beneath this shell of land, and the wide sea,
“A cavern vast, kin to infinity,
“Waits to receive the wicked, as they go
“From mortal scenes, to realms of pain and woe.
“Here, 'mid the central earth is their abode;
“Whilst all who there descend, a heavy load,

“Sorrowing sustain;—the thought of banishment—
“Of unforgiven sins, of time mispent,
“Of talents, verdant once, then nipp'd and brown,
“No harvest-home, no fruit the year to crown,
“No influences, scatter'd, like the dew,
“To fructify, and earth with blessings strew,
“Rising, when they have past from mortal view;
“Remembrance of their evil ways and vile,
“Persisted in, whilst Conscience' voice, the while,
“Clamorous, was drown'd, and God himself arraign'd,
“His law despised, his warning voice disdain'd!
“These with the scorpion's fang upon them prey,
“Alike remote from hope, remote from day.
“Altho' their spirits strive not to deplore,
“Endure they must, and yet expecting more—
“'Till, 'mid confusion and distracting fear,
“Their final doom, “Depart!” they all shall hear.

“Another and a better world on high,
“Have I prepared, with joys that never die,
“To bless the ransom'd; Those who, God, adore,
“In the First Heaven, shall taste of ill no more;
“Where I, the Sun of Righteousness, will shine.
“'Mid streams of bliss, and flowers and fruits divine,

“Perpetual spring, melodious airs, and bowers
“That fling their fragrance to the passing hours,
“The disencumber'd spirits glad shall dwell,
“(Whilst the loud-pealing anthems round them swell)
“In bands of holy friendship, where each knows
“The blessedness which from communion flows.
“There full shall flourish (envy banish'd thence)
“The sweets of intellectual eminence,
“Where souls, for nobler flights, their wings prepare
“With loftiest virtues. Free from toil and care,
“And faintest love of ill, their God their friend,
“Songs, grateful incense! upward shall ascend;
“Whilst, from the Fount of Good, they draw, nor cease,
“Felicities, increas'd but to increase!
“Thus, spotless, holy, in the high career,
“Panting still more their God to love and fear,
“My servants true shall dwell, and happiness,
“In unimagin'd ways, their spirits bless,
“'Till the last trump shall man to judgment call,
“And round the throne, the saint, and seraph fall,
“I and my Father one, God, all in all.

“Gabriel! thy willing service I receive!
“This Spirit, for whose sake sad parents grieve,

“Yet in their earthly state, outstripping day,
“To the First Heaven, triumphant bear away!”

Gabriel ascends, the Spirit by his side!—
And now the depths of air their presence hide!

BOOK VI.

The Deluge.

Years roll along, the silent march of time
Unfolds strange scenes, and peoples every clime.
The world, so fair, once form'd for happiness,
Which God, the Common Father, form'd to bless,
Now violence o'erspreads. Remote, as near,
Hell's crimson banners, waving wide, appear!
Oppression, rapine, murder, lawless rage,
In hostile bands, more rancorous, still engage.
Injustice, drunk with blood, of giant form
Moves o'er the earth, more wasting than the storm.

Messiah, tho' in love complete array'd,
Beholds the sight, and mourns that Man was made.
(The Sons of God, these are the titles vain
With which mankind their fellow worms profane,
Come down from their imagined eminence
And endless curses round the world dispense,
Their iron hearts unknown to penitence.)
He views, as boundless as the winter's snow,
Th' imperial empire, Satan rears below:
His watchful eye surveys the fetter strong
That binds the heart, perverted, still, to wrong,
And, long delaying, lifts at last the hand
Which sends destruction o'er a guilty land.

Oh, spare! Supreme in pity, as in power,
Is there no spot beloved, no happy bower,
No temple, hope of Man's revolted climes,
Where worth retires to mourn o'er others crimes?
Is the whole race corrupted? Doth the stream
Of unmix'd evil flow, nor one redeem
The charge, so consummate in each offence,
Which brands the wide world with impenitence?
There is one dwelling, one abode divine,
On which the lingering sun delights to shine!

One altar, undefiled, still lifts its head
Where no strange fires unhallow'd incense spread;
There is one humble spot, one tent alone
Where God is worshipp'd, and his name is known!

Messiah, to the list'ning Angels round,
Thus spake. “Amid the mental night profound,
“This absence of all good, one heart remains,
“Still faithful, which hath spurn'd at Satan's chains!
“This witness earth may boast to stem the tide,
“Save whom, all hearts alike are turn'd aside!
“Their every thought is vain. From morn to night,
“They deeper plunge in evils infinite!
“I will destroy all flesh!” Thus having said,
To Noah's tent, an Angel fair! he sped.

The Patriārch the day retiring saw,
And, round his altar, now, with solemn awe,
Children beside, in holy musings, stands;
Whilst, as the offering burns, his aged hands
He raises, and implores, chief good below!
The blessings which from God their fountain flow.
This service o'er, and, in the Almighty's name
Confiding, (shield and buckler, still the same!)

Beneath the tree he waits, that shades his door,
To mark the sun decline, and heaven adore.
Raising his eye, in the ecstatic trance,
He views an Angel! toward his tent advance!
Thus spake the Seraph Form.

“'Mid evil days,
“I hear thy morning prayer, thy evening praise.
“My spirit shall not always strive with man!
“I come, the Garner of the World, to fan!
“Tho' long enduring, and to anger slow,
“There is an hour when love shall cease to flow:
“That hour is come! Behold, in dread array,
“I wake, in wrath, to scatter round dismay.
“The winds of heaven, conflicting, loud shall sound!
“The waters of the deep shall burst their bound!
“The rains augment th' unutterable roar,
“While deluged earth shall sink to rise no more!
“Thou hast found favour! Thou and thine secure,
“(Amid degenerate man, the only pure)
“Shall yet survive, while vengeance round is hurl'd,
“And sing deliverance o'er a fallen world.
“Arise! Prepare the Ark! Around, proclaim—
“Repentance! Haply some may own their shame,
“And turn again, contrition in their eye,

“With grief o'erwhelm'd, to seek my clemency.
“Preacher of Righteousness! Go forth and strive!
“All who regard thy voice shall yet survive,
“But if they scorn thy words, thy threats despise,
“Their sun of joy shall set, no more to rise!”
Noah look'd up the reverence deep to pay,
When, lo! the Angel Form had past away!

Amid a thousand kings of high renown,
Whose faintest breath was law, and fate their frown.
One, 'bove the rest, the King of Spoils! arose,
Fear'd, scorn'd of all, whose very friends were foes.
His heralds, who, th' imperious mandate, bore,
None ever hail'd, none saw but to deplore!
Blood track'd his path, while vengeance stalk'd before.
A Son arose, more fiend-like than the Sire,
Who, in the whirl, th' intemperate gust of ire,
(Scorning, of heaven, or earth, controul, or fear)
Plung'd in his father's heart the murderous spear!

The Parricide the summons sends around
For all earth's mightiest kings, in war renown'd,
Upon th' appointed hour, to speed their way
Homage, to some New God, and Great, to pay!

The tidings spread, and, at th' appointed hour,
The world's supremest names for pomp and power,
Assemble round their Prince to bend the knee,
Adoring, to the Strange Divinity.
The morn is come, ten-thousand chariots proud,
Bearing their lords, to rear the altar, crowd.
The waving plumes, the trappings gold-o'ercast,
The cornet's flourish, and the trumpet's blast;
The diamond-sparkling crest, the proud display
Of gorgeous banners, in august array;
The multitude of gazers, crowding still
The distant tower, the dim-discover'd hill,
All join, to swell the pomp, when, first, the eye
Might see the smoke to Moloch mount the sky!

The Altar now is rear'd! The fire is near!
The wood is piled! The idol priests appear!
Earth's proudest monarchs bend in awful state,
And, for the bursting flame, impatient wait!
Fearless of man, in faith, in virtue strong,
Majestic as a spirit, from the throng
A hoary Sire drew near, and dauntless spake.
“Stop the rash deed! From dreams, from death a wake!

“There is one God alone! Behold his car!
“Yon flaming sun that darts his beams afar,
“In whom you live and move and whose you are!”
Grasping his spear, th' infuriate Parricide,
With eye of fire, toward Noah rush'd and cried,
“Presumptuous Man! while hosts the requiem raise,
“Thou shalt, the first, on yon proud altar blaze!”
He said, amid the burst of Moloch's name,
And urged the patient victim, to the flame—
Just rising, which ten-thousand shouts proclaim.
That moment, from the heavens, with crashing sound,
The lightning blasts the altar to the ground!
The smoke expires! And, 'mid untold dismay,
The whirlwind bears the Patriarch away!

Messiah's voice still sounds in Noah's ear,
“Prepare the Ark!” Stranger to mortal fear,
Whilst scoffing gazers, on his footsteps, crowd,
Daring Jehovah's might, with spirit proud,
He fells the Gopher Trees, that round him rise;
Obedient to the warning from the skies,
With patient toil he marks his work arise.
The hundredth year is past, and still in vain
The Patriarch preaches truth, still mourns the chain

With which the powers of darkness bind mankind,
To wisdom's voice and beauty, deaf and blind.

The day is come. The Ark complete appears,
Mourning o'er man, Noah the summons hears,
“Go forth and warn th' impenitent, and cry—
“Flee from the wrath to come!” With streaming eye
He heard the voice, and, offering up the prayer,
Exclaim'd, “Oh! God! a world of sinners spare!”
The Angel spake, “My patience now is o'er!
“Men, prone to evil, trespass more and more!
“Judgment must wake! To sinners haste and cry,
“The day of wrath is come! Distress is nigh!
“Unutterable anguish! Ruin wide!
“Destruction, that moves on with giant stride!
“Turn to the God that made you, and repent!
“Or, in seven days the wrathful firmament
“Shall pour its stores of fury, raging round!
“The fountains of the deep shall burst their bound!
“The tempests deluge earth! the floods arise!
“Th' imperious winds, conflicting, shake the skies!
“The thunders, heaven's distemper'd concave rend!
“And every living thing to death descend!”

Noah, obedient, bow'd his reverend head,
And as he bow'd—the Angel Spirit fled!

The Parricidial King, from distant lands,
Had now, in pomp, return'd, with reeking hands,
Leaving whole regions, in the hour of dread,
Wasted, with dearth and barrenness o'erspread.
A hundred kings, who drag their clanking chains,
Confess that one o'er earth, unrivall'd reigns,
And, following in his train, 'mid shame and scorn,
Conflicting, mourn the day that they were born!
The mighty King, exulting in his sway,
Proclaims, in solemn state, the festal day,
Which dooms his scepter'd captives, offering high!
To perish on the pile, which, to the sky,
Was rais'd to Ashtaroth!

The day arrives!
The wretched captives wait to yield their lives!
And now the bald and impious priests advance,
With music, and the soul-seducing dance,
Whilst gazers, countless as the stars, await,
To see their Prince his vengeance consummate!

Noah, amid the busy scene, draws nigh,
With look of more than mortal majesty!
And whilst mysterious thoughts their spirits fill
The frantic ranks, at his approach, are still,
And, open to their king, their joyance gone,
The path thro' which he dauntless passes on!
Before the wondering King, behold him, cry—
“The day of wrath is come! Distress is nigh!
“Unutterable anguish! Ruin wide!
“Destruction that moves on with giant stride!
“Turn to the God that made you, and repent,
“Or, in seven days, the wrathful firmament
“Shall pour its stores of fury, raging round!
“The fountains of the deep shall burst their bound!
“The tempests deluge earth! The floods arise!
“Th' imperious winds, conflicting, shake the skies!
“The thunders, heaven's distemper'd concave, rend!
“And every living thing to death descend!”

“And who art thou?” th' indignant King exclaims,
“And who the Lord, thy daring breath proclaims?
“Unnumber'd Gods thro' earth dominion own,
“Yet two, I stoop to dread; to these alone
“I yield obedience, as might well beseem,

“Moloch and Ashtaroth, of power supreme!
“Hence! To the King of Heaven bend thou thy knee!
“I scorn thy threats! alike thy God and thee!”

The Patriarch, his eye with sorrow blind,
Look'd to the earth, and mourn'd for human kind:
Charging his spirit with the prophet's zeal,
He turn'd and spake. “Yours is the heart of steel!
“I bring the warning voice, from wrath to fly!
“I bid you live, but you would rather die!
“Behold! before yon shadowy moon shall wane,
“The heaven's shall pour their fearful floods of rain!
“Your Maker, pity, from his heart, efface,
“And whelm, in ruin wide, Man's impious race!”
Thus saying, as relax'd his brow severe,
Smiting his breast, he turn'd, and dropt the tear!

Lo! to the Parricide, while hosts surround,
Chanting the impious song, with garlands crown'd,
Th' Arch-Priest advances, and aloud began.
“Oh! King! Destruction must o'erwhelm that man!
“Noah! the Sorcerer! He, thro' mountains, sees,
“Searching unlawful things, and mysteries,
“Whose lowering soul, with serpent venom swells,

“And in his death, alone, our safety dwells!
“Aided by fiends, that o'er the storm preside,
“This fearful being, at his will, can ride,
“Now on the sun-beam, now the whirlwind stride!
“Spirits malign, with him have leagued, and he,
“Uncurs'd, unslain, will vanquish us and thee!
“Behold yon mighty Ark, of form unknown!
“This work from hellish powers proceeds alone!
“We tremble for ourselves, and for thy throne!”
Enraged, the King exclaim'd. “The guilty seize!
“We will thy fears allay! thy wrath appease!
“Thou, with deep-uttter'd curse, and potent charm,
“First, shalt assault, and him, of strength, disarm;
“Then, fear no sudden and up-bursting doom;
“The midnight torch shall in one hour consume
“Yon Ark, and be the Sorcerer's blazing tomb!”

The Man of God, who harm to none hath done,
Watch'd, with still awe, the slow-declining sun.
Now, at the evening hour, that comfort brings,
Beside his hearth, he talk'd of heavenly things,
And, with his offspring round, look'd up, and cried,
“From righteousness, all flesh hath turn'd aside,
“Death hastens, but for us will Heaven provide.”

The impious Priest bursts in! With scowl austere!
He first upbraids, then threats, a concourse near,
And with a fury's wrath, and lion's power,
Bears him, to perish, in the midnight hour,
E'en in the Ark he rear'd! His sons, in rage,
Seize the first staff th' unequal war to wage!
The Mother, rising, in wild terror said,
(As from his tent, serene, her lord was led)
“Forbear, my Sons! You err! In patience wait!
“Deliverance yet may come, for God is great!”

The sun, in all his pomp, hath left the sky,
The evening shades advance, the hour is nigh!
A thousand torches, blazing thro' the air,
To Noah calm in faith, the tidings bear,
As in the Ark he stands devoted there!
He sees the distant blaze approaching! hears
Shout, following shout! Ah! now the host appears;
Still on they haste! He marks their threat'nings dread;
He looks to heaven, and all his fears are fled!
An earthquakerocks the ground! The King exclaim'd,
“These are the Sorcerer's arts, to rage enflamed!
“Press on! and, heedless of all powers that be,
“Waste! Slay! Confirm the high supremacy
“Of Gods, to whom we call, and bend the knee!”

Th' Arch-Priest alone advanced. Before he spake,
Waving his wand, the magic thread he brake,
Then scatter'd baneful herbs, and utter'd, slow,
Charms, and dread incantations, working woe.
When, thus he cried. “Spirits! that hither stray,
“Oh! hear the curse that warns you far away!
“Whether ye dwell amid the twilight grey,
“Or in the cloud of night, or by the side
“Of some vext cataract's loud-roaring tide,
“Amid huge mountain, or, in cavern rude,
“Or 'neath the ocean's deep, dark solitude,
“In water, or in fire, in earth, or air,
“I curse you! and again the curse declare!
“Our Ashtaroth shall crush your lofty tower!
“Moloch in vengeance drest, shall spurn your power,
“Remphan and Baal-peor you devour,
“And we will shout your downfall, ere an hour!”
(Signal for all, with demon-like acclaim,
Forward to rush, and clothe the sky in flame.)
He placed his blazing torch beneath the Ark!
Instant, a meteor, bursting thro' the dark,
Explodes, in pomp of glory, o'er his head!
Behold! The brand is quench'd! The Priest is dead!
'Mid terrible dismay, and frantic fear,

The heavens, to fury wrought, o'erwhelm the ear!
“Flee!” cried the King. “Perdition sweeps our land!”
Each cast the torch, distracted, from his hand,
And, thro' the night, whilst thunders now prevail,
And lightnings, seeks his home, with panic pale,
Never again the Righteous to assail!

The Ark, completed by divine command,
Now sends its broad shade o'er the subject land;
And now the hour is come for faith to rise,
Clear as the noon, and stedfast as the skies.
Noah, his Sons, their Wives, their Children fair,
Approach the Ark, and kneeling pour the prayer,
Unaw'd by scoffers. With their God in view,
On Man, they think not, but their words pursue,
His smile imploring, which alone can cheer,
Amid the storm of death, fast drawing near!

He who hath given the raging sea its bound,
Who first, from nothing, call'd the world around,
Who fix'd wide nature's ordinance, refined,
Yet never made the law, himself, to bind
On some, of all that lives, exerts his power,
Unfailing, when, at the appointed hour,

Self, to preserve, extends mysteriously
O'er pairs, of every class, and each degree,
And, to this refuge, such, instinctive, flee,
Opprest with fear, and, by heaven's impulse, shewn,
That here protection is, and here alone.
At first, the creeping things toward Noah come,
And find within the Ark a quiet home!
The birds the same pervading law obey!
Harmless, the beasts advance, in long array,
(Transform'd their natures, as, when Eden smiled,
And call'd the wolf, the bear, her peaceful child.)
And now, whilst busy Angels watch around,
And Hell feels terror to her utmost bound,
Noah, his house, all faithful, enter in,
And close the door against a World of Sin!
Once more their eyes, in solemn awe they raise,
Noah, once more, the spirit's offering pays,
Whilst, 'mid the prayer, sweet incense! from without
Scorn lifts his voice, and rude blasphemers shout!

The hundred Kings have perish'd on the pile,
Whilst feasts succeed, with dance and orgies vile:
The Revellers, at death and danger, smile!
Ah! in the midst, is seen, an unknown light!

Red clouds arise! A silence, deep as night,
Reigns thro' heaven's canopy! while, far and near,
The birds, on wildest wing, betray their fear!
Now, the portentous pause hath ceas'd to reign!
The northern clouds burst on, in threat'ning train!
Heaven's flood-gates cast their torrents from the sky!
And loud is heard the wind's shrill harmony!
The wine of Ashtaroth no longer cheers,
Each leaves the banquet, thoughtful, each appears,
And, on the gathering storm, more dark, more dread,
Gazes, perplex'd, and, silent, shakes his head!
The eve comes on in ten-fold gloom array'd!
And, now, amid the heart-appalling shade,
Lightnings, in eminence of forked fire,
Burst furious on, and back to night retire!
Ah! what stupendous thunders shake the air!
And what fresh bursts of long-enduring glare!
Where is the firm, the proud disdainful brow!
Where is the lofty look, the boaster, now!
While the dread scenes the stoutest hearts appal,
In vain on Ashtaroth aloud they call!
Moloch their prayer regards not! Louder still,
Tempests, the air, with unseen terrors, fill!
The forests, crashing, yield at last their reign!

The storm-rent mountains, rolling to the plain,
Swell the vast uproar, whilst the earth below,
Trembling, augments the unimagin'd woe!
No voice is heard from man; aghast he stands,
Starting at every sound, with graspēd hands!
And waiting for the morn her beam to shed
Tho' fearing fiercer woes, and deeper dread!
What startling horrors now their breasts invade!
The morning comes, in darkness still array'd!
Night hath its bounds, but morn, so dim and drear,
Gives to the shuddering heart intenser fear!
Ah! now the struggling twilight, finds its way
Thro' warring mists that bar distracted day!
The monarch from his slave no pity shares,
'Tis Man that suffers, Man his burden bears!
All sympathy, disdainful, far is thrown,
Where each deliverance seeks for one alone!

The storm still waxes higher. Amid the sky,
Thunders still roll, and lightnings fiercer fly!
Torrents, augmenting, thro' the valleys pour!
The clouds, on deluged earth, exhaust their store!
The new-born rivers rise, and bear away
Spoils, heap'd on spoils, with a resistless sway!

The waters fast increase! Another night
Now spreads, opprest with terrors infinite!
Another morn arrives! The distant sea,
Bursts its weak bounds, and, from dominion free,
With lawless rage rolls on th' impetuous wave,
Sweeping whole nations to their watery grave!
Ah! now, too late, the lofty Sons of Earth,
Confounded, mourn the moment of their birth!
Hosts, to the hills, for safety vain, have fled,
Soul-agoniz'd, opprest with speechless dread!
Striving to gain the pinnacle on high,
With furious fear, or, with the ghastly eye,
Their spirits quench'd! despairing! refuge o'er!
Gazing on billows huge that round them roar.

Like isles, emerging from the troubled sea,
The mountains rise, stripp'd of their majesty,
Around whose base, and up whose craggy side,
Conflicting waves advance, with rapid stride!
The rains augment in fury, as in form,
And fiercer far, and blacker still the storm!
Ah! impious race! your scoffing day is past!
Vengeance, so long defied, arrives at last!
Earth casts you forth! Your very breath defiles,

Whilst Mercy, changed of nature, views and smiles!
The Patriarch's words, which late you heard to scorn,
Sound in your ear, and swell the pang forlorn!
Now you behold him, as the storms descend,
Safe in the Ark of Faith, with God his friend,
And to partake his refuge, in this hour,
Would barter, baubles vain! earth's pomp and power!
Too late the warning voice conviction brings,
Your outraged conscience, like the scorpion stings!
Too late you mourn o'er hell's destructive sway
While the last hope, long cherish'd, dies away!
Hold faster, still, the mountain's rugged side!
Climb higher, from the onward-rolling tide!
Force some more wretched being from his stand!
And lift, for safety brief, weak, murderous hand!
Fiercer the waves advance! Ah! now they sweep
The last of mortals to the raging deep!

BOOK VII.

Call of Abraham. Isaac offered up.

Messiah, far removed from human eye,
Calls up the blast, and bids the whirlwind fly,
And, on the heaven, convulsed by tempests, rides;
Now hurls the bolt, th' impetuous whirlwind guides;
Whilst the vast fountains of the deep are rent,
And death and horror throng the firmament.
He, from his canopy, to mortals dark,
The only hope of Man! beheld the Ark
Float o'er the waves triumphant, as the storm,
Still gathering strength, in every fearful form,
Confounded, stunn'd, perplex'd earth's trembling race.
From low, to high, from high, to higher place,

Frantic with dread, they speed, then ponder, sad,
Upon the heavens, in sable vesture clad,
From which th' intemperate lightnings, bursting, shew,
In sudden glance, the warring waves below—
That, terrible as madness bound in chains,
Seem but half roused to wrath that yet remains.

These scenes are o'er, these terrors now are past!
The deaf'ning thunder, and the scathing blast,
Their fury long have spent, and every breast
Yielded its final pang, and sunk to rest!
Messiah saw the raging waves subside,
When all that lived, man, bird, and beast, had died;
He saw the Ark resign its precious store,
Noah the altar rear, and heaven adore;
Pouring the prayer to Him, whose sovereign sway
Preserved their lives, in that tremendous day
When all the impious sons of men beside
Were swept away in ruin vast and wide!
Messiah saw succeeding nations rise,
Still prone to sin, to make their refuge lies,
And, heedless of his judgments, rearing still
Altars to every God, on every hill!

To Gabriel, and to Michael, by his side,
Whilst sorrow fill'd his spirit, thus he cried.

“Noah, a pilgrim, long ordain'd to roam,
“Hath found at last, in death, a quiet home.
“His soul, redeem'd, hath reach'd a world of rest,
“To be by care, nor pain, no more opprest.
“But, lo! his Sons, their Father's ways, despise!
“Altars, on every side, with incense rise,
“But not to God! All flesh have gone astray!
“Their hearts to Ashtaroth false homage pay!
“To Moloch! stocks, and stones! in whom they see,
“Folly, which brutes might scorn! Divinity!
“All flesh have turn'd aside; they all explore
“New ways of evil—wandering more and more!
“I now might cast, justly, the lightning brand,
“And sweep the earth, but mercy holds my hand!
“This world, the work of an Almighty Power,
“Must not be form'd in vain!—No little tower,
“Now lifts its head to dare thè boundless sway
“Of Satan, whom, all lands, alike, obey!
“My favour, free and full, I now will shew,
“Not of desert, for all is sin below!

“And sin alone, from age to age would be,
“But for my love, Messiah's clemency!
“The first foundation stone, I now will lay
“Of Zion's Temple! which, in fair array,
“Erelong, shall lift its proud majestic form,
“And be to man a covert from the storm!”

Gabriel and Michael, whilst they both rejoice,
Hear, slow arising, soft, melodious, voice,
As tho' from angel choir, regardful, near,
Drawn down, exulting, from their blissful sphere,
Such dawn of hope to hail, such words to hear!

Messiah spake, light beaming from his face,
“One family, from all earth's fallen race,
“Will I select, to shew my sovereign grace.
“To form a countless army for the sky,
“I will my secret influence supply!
“Nor ever, from this hour, man's second birth,
“Without a witness leave the Sons of Earth.
“While scorn will lift her voice, with furious hate,
“The seer, the prophet, I will consecrate.
“My spirit shall descend, the source of love,
“To warn of sin, to point to worlds above!

100

“Thro' them to make the type and shadow tell
“Of one last triumph over vanquish'd hell!”

The Angels pause, and, with intense desire,
Gaze at Messiah, while impatience, higher,
Still rises, to pursue the glorious theme,
How heaven, from chains of death, should man redeem.
Messiah spake. “The veil is cast before!
“Trust in Almighty Strength, and God adore!”
Thus saying, with his host, aloft he rose;
And now on Haran's land, his feet repose!

The morn on Abraham dawn'd, and saw him bend
To idols vile, to whom his prayers ascend!
And from whose guardian power he seeks, alone,
Protecting smiles—his God, a stock! a stone!
Angels that saw the world from nothing rise,
And order fix, immutable, the skies,
View'd not a change more vast, than now awaits
Abraham, whose soul the joy of heaven elates!
Who from the dust of earth exalts his eye
To gaze, enrapt, on Immortality!

The Patriarch, returning from the prayer

101

Offer'd to idols! marks an Angel, fair,
Stately, draw near, to whom he bows the head,
Whilst his heart beat, with the mysterious dread!
Messiah spake (Messiah name unknown)
“Child of the earth, arise! Thy Maker own!
“No longer bend to idols, wood and stone,
“But worship God! Jehovah! Lord, alone!
“Vain man hath not true wisdom understood;
“Each heart hath wander'd from the Fount of Good,
“And, still pursuing evil, from proud height,
“But for my aid, would plunge in endless night.
“Thee have I chosen, from mankind around,
“To teach my fear, to make my name resound,
“To see salvation, and, the flame, to fan
“Of Truth Divine, amid rebellious man!
“Go forth from Haran! In the unknown land
“Of Canaan sojourn! At thy Lord's command,
“Fearless, go forth, whilst I, thy strength and stay,
“Will guard, and prosper thee thro' all thy way!”

Abraham arose, obedient, and alone
Went forth to sojourn in the land unknown;
His Father's house forsook, to wander wide,
Trusting in God, and calm as even-tide.

102

O'er many a weary hill, and trackless road,
To Canaan's land he past, and there abode;
Dwelling 'mid rites, idolatrous and vile,
Where deadliest evils flourish'd, fraud and guile,
Murder, with injury swift, and justice slow,
'Mid hearts that never felt another's woe.
Here, like the bow of heaven, that shines around,
While all beside is mist and gloom profound,
Abraham appear'd, standing from each apart,
His eye serene, and glory in his heart,
Nor built he not the altar. 'Mid the sway
Of Satan, proudly ruling, day by day,
Sweet incense from his heart, the offering free,
He lights the hallow'd fire, and bends the knee!

Time rolls along, The silvery lock appears,
With faith still growing with the growth of years.
The eve was calm, the sun, in glory, shines
Yet lovelier, as his lordly head declines;
Whilst nature slept on beds of gold and green,
And not a murmur broke the deep serene.
Before his tent, the Patriarch mark'd the sky,
Its majesty of pomp, and raised his eye,
Whilst gratitude, with awe, inspired his soul,

103

Adoring, to that God who form'd the whole.
Abraham from dreams awakes that bound him strong,
And views three distant Strangers pass along.
Hasting, with pity-prompted voice he cried.
“Turn not from me, and from my words, aside.
“If in thy sight, my Lord, I favour find,
“Haste to yon tree. Your sandals there unbind,
“And from my tent, let me some water bear
“To wash your feet. Oh! let me food prepare,
“In hospitable plenty, on this seat,
“And cheer your spirit in the noon-tide heat;
“Then shall you pass along, and I will pray
“That God may guide and guard you on your way.”
He gazed upon the Strangers. None replies.
When, as he look'd, to his astonish'd eyes
One statelier rose, majestic more and more,
Till now the Angel Presence stands before!

Abraham, obeisance made! The Angel cried,
“Heaven is thy portion! God thy friend and guide!
“This fruitful land, which flows with milk and wine,
“Oh! favour'd of the Highest, shall be thine.”

The Patriarch, still gazing on the ground,

104

Whilst awe and reverence his spirit drown'd,
Thus answer made, pressing his aged breast;
“A thousand gifts, but one above the rest,
“God hath bestow'd. My Helpmeet, kind and dear,
“With smiles has sooth'd me thro' my sojourn here,
“Guided, in many a strait, my dubious feet,
“And smooth'd life's rugged road with converse sweet:
“All other gifts I own, with grateful soul,
“But Sarah, loved and loving, crowns the whole!
“Yet round my bounteous board, no offspring stands!
“My flocks and herds must pass to other hands!
“Oh! cheerless thought, which I in vain deplore,
“A stranger must inherit all my store!”

The Angel spake. “Behold the drops of dew!
“Behold the stars, in glory ever new,
“Which tell to man of worlds beyond his view!
“Behold the sands upon the shore that lie,
“Countless as these, thy seed shall multiply,
“Whilst, as the onward rounds of time retire,
“Nations to thee shall look, and call thee Sire!”

Abraham bent low, and, with the starting tear,
Answered, “Unworthy, Lord! thy words I hear!

105

“Day follows night, the calm succeeds the storm,
“And what thou say'st, I know thou wilt perform!”
Again he bow'd, the reverence deep to pay,
When into air the Angels past away!

As time had now his destin'd moments run,
Sarah, tho' old, to Abraham bears a Son.
Fair flower he was, whose beauties, opening still,
All hearts delight, all eyes with gladness fill.
Abraham now wish'd, with roving fancy blind,
Half form'd desire, a flash that cross'd his mind!
That Heaven, one other Son, would deign to give
That if his Isaac died, his hope might live.
But checking faithless fear, the thought arose
Of God! and, lo, his spirit found repose.

Once more, whilst morn, in clouds refulgent brake,
The Angel clothed in light, drew near, and spake.
“To do my sovereign will, prepare thy mind!
“Up! From thy tent arise! Thy sandals bind!
“Forth, with thy Son, thy noblest gift below,
“Haste to the distant hill, which I will shew;
“Amid Moriah's land obedient go,

106

“And Isaac offer up, sweet sacrifice,
“Even thy Son in whom thy treasure lies!”

The tear of anguish rolls, slow down his cheek,
When, with a spirit more subdued and meek,
Isaac he sought, and cried. “When first the sun,
“On the next morn, rises his course to run,
“We to the distant land must speed, and there
“Offer the sacrifice, with praise and prayer.”
Isaac replied. “Before the orient, grey,
“Calls up the lark to hail the coming day,
“My Father! I, thy mandate, will obey!”

The dawn arrives! Isaac prepared appears.
Before his tent, the ass his burden bears,
And, whilst, in dewy beam, all nature smiled,
The scatter'd herbage crops, as morning mild.
Lo! from the door, with pensive look and slow,
The Patriarch advances, whilst, her woe,
Sarah in vain would hide. Amid the tear,
Earnest, she strove, her lord, her child, to cheer.
“Go!” she exclaim'd. “Jehovah be your friend!
“'Mid day to guide you and thro' night defend!

107

“Oh! may my lord his presence still possess,
“Whose smile, at home, abroad, is happiness!
“Oh! may my son, my Isaac, soon return,
“And bid his weeping Mother cease to mourn!”
The Patriarch cast the look, which Sarah knew,
And fell the word, the whisper sweet—“Adieu!”

To reach th' appointed place, with sober speed,
Abraham, his Son, his servants twain, proceed;
And now the towering hills, in misty form,
Hang on th' horizon, like the gathering storm.
The hoary Father marks, amid the gloom,
One mountain-top, the fire of heaven illume!
He knows the sign! Bending his reverend head,
A moment's space he paus'd, then slowly said.
“My servants, faithful still, your master heed!
“I, with the lad, my Son, alone, will speed
“To yonder hill, to worship there, and raise
“An Altar to the Lord, with prayer and praise.
“You, with the ass, abide!” Thus having said,
The wood he placed on Isaac's willing head,
And whilst one hand the unsheath'd knife sustains,
The other bears the fire! Abraham maintains

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Silence unwonted. Isaac oft desired,
The cheerful word, but back again retired
From speaking, when he knew his Father's will,
And saw his heart, with God, communing still!
At length he cried. “Tho' duteous Son I am,
“The wood, the fire are here, but where the lamb?”
The Father answer'd. “We must patient speed!
“God will provide the sacrifice we need!”

With toilsome step, o'er cragged road and steep,
Up to the mount they haste, 'mid silence deep:
And as they reach'd the pinnacle ordain'd,
Abraham, with nature, painful strife sustain'd,
Then answer'd firm, amidst the bursting sigh,
“Thou art the Offering! Thou, my Son! must die!”
To Isaac's heart, horror, the word convey'd!
The Father wept! The lad no answer made!
And whilst a solemn stillness mark'd the air,
In thought, tho' heard of heaven, each pour'd the prayer.
Abraham thus spake.

“My Son! no choice is mine.
“Thou still art dear! It is the Will Divine!
“God spake and said. ‘Up to Moriah speed!

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“And, on the Altar, there, let Isaac bleed!
“Have faith in me. Be not with grief opprest,
“For in thy seed, all nations shall be blest.’
“That God, whose power, the earth, the heaven's obey,
“Shall call thee up from death, nor thou delay!”
Isaac, submissive bow'd. And now the Sire,
The Altar rears, prepares the wood, the fire!
The willing Offering bends! Behold him lie,
Stretch'd on the funeral pile, prepared to die.
Abraham, upon his Son, one moment gazed,
Then, for the deed of death, the weapon rais'd!
“Withhold thy hand!”—An Angel speaks aloud.
“Hurt not the Lad!” Abraham with reverence bow'd.
He knew the voice! The well-known Angel cried,
“Thou hast not, at my call, thy Son denied!
“Warm'd, with a faith, so strong, that holiest flame!
“The Father of the Faithful be thy name!”

The Patriarch look'd, and saw, at hand, display'd,
A Ram, whose branching horns, the thicket stay'd!
Seizing, he placed him on the Altar, rude,
And homeward, then, with joy, his way pursued.

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BOOK VIII.

The First Hell. Satan and Mammon's descent.

Down to the central fires, from summit wild,
Where never verdure shone, nor flowret smiled!
But smoke and flame, and lava, all around,
To life, advancing, spread the iron bound;
Satan once more, with Mammon by his side,
Descended to explore the region, wide,
Where Souls, accurs'd, 'till the Judgment Day, abide.
Awhile, the veil, invisible, they wear,
That they might trace those dwellings of despair,
And learn, what legions might be summon'd thence,
For the last conflict with Omnipotence!

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Spirits, from earth descending, first advance
To the huge hall, th' ordain'd inheritance
Of night's dark brood! thro' which, forlorn, they go
To scenes beyond of ever-during woe.
Satyrs, and hideous dragons, here abide,
'Mid streams, bitumenous, a burning tide,
Where scalēd monsters, breathing fearful sound,
Toss on the billow, scattering fire around.
The creeping forms of earth were shapes of love
Liken'd with such as here, below, above,
Move on the sight, all hateful! Some there are,
Flying like gorgon serpent, shooting star;
Some crawling, bounding some, from place to place,
Some toad-like seated, some with eager chase
Pursued, or else pursuing, as might seem,
Now up aloft, now on the burning stream
With claws, and stings, and fangs, and breath of fire,
Roars, shrieks, and deaf'ning yells, and wailings dire.

With new and hissing sound of dissonance,
Upon a high far-jetting eminence,
A sable eagle, huge, looks far and nigh,
And flaps his wing, and marks, with meaning eye,

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Some food that lives, when pouncing on his prey,
He bears it, vainly struggling, far away.
At stated times, hunger intense he feels,
Then only, as strange meteor, faint, reveals
Some sick'ning glare, (when dreams the mind release,
Or, from intenseness, suffering seems to cease)
When, bursting on his food, he gives the sound,
The clock of hell! heard to her farthest bound.

From one vast cauldron in the burning tide,
Majestic flames ascend, and, spreading wide,
Roam terrible; now issuing in full flame,
Recoiling now, and blazing now the same.
Sudden, at warning shrill, the living thing,
Creeping, or upward tossing on the wing,
Hurries to dark retreat, and all is still.
The fire intenser burns; flames, volleying, fill
The wide expanse, when, from the cauldron, rise,
Like pestilence that roams the midnight skies,
Hosts of tormented spirits! Up they pour,
And now, like Locusts, line the fiery shore.
Here morn and eve, (for morn and eve are there,
The evening, brief cessation from despair,

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The morning the full glow of feeling deep,
When miseries afresh their senses steep,)
The wretched souls, from regions, far beneath,
Ascend, in new, not kindlier air, to breathe,
And ever as the Eagle screams, the tide,
That burning rolls, their strenuous arms divide,
Plunging, and scattering flakes on every side.

The realms beyond, unnumber'd domes display,
Some cheer'd with light, some clothed with doubtful day
Some red with furnace heat, while cars of fire
One moment sail along, then quick expire,
Bearing new inmates to th' abodes of pain,
And shaking as they pass, the unseen chain.
Nor must the wretched wander as they will
From place to place, tho' hell pursue them still,
All, with transgressors, kindred, herd alone.
No common home is there. Their very groan
Hath character peculiar, whilst each bound,
Thro' the wide space, of crystal clear is found,
Presenting to the eye, as each sustains
His own untold, unutterable pains,
One sweeping view of what they all endure,
Augmenting thus the ill, that knows no cure.

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The first huge vault displays th' appointed place
Where Liars dwell, no smile upon their face;
They boast how choice their lot, from pain apart,
Whilst the black asp is gnawing at their heart.

The fiends, advancing, now perceive the dome
Where, silent, cheerless, self-accusing, roam
Th' Unjust of Earth, who held the conflict deep
With conscience, by no effort lull'd to sleep;
Now, finding that injustice, like a ball,
Bounded from others, on themselves to fall,
With weight that doth their shuddering hearts appal.

And now are seen Extortioners, beguiled
With wronging others, whom they next reviled.
Still round they gaze, askance, to over-reach
Some soul, less vigilant, whilst each, on each,
Upbraiding looks, where none can learn or teach.

Th' Oppressor of the Widow next is found
Stalking, with solemn pace, in anguish drown'd;
Th' accusing spirit ever whispering still,
“The power to wrong was thine and thine the will!”

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Th' adjacent dome presents a fearful band,
Walking beside the river, hand in hand:
These all defrauded once the Fatherless!
Who view, in their ineffable distress,
The fierce eyed infant, hovering round, in air,
Increasing thus their torment and despair.

Now thro' a chasm of horrible descent,
Where groans proclaim the deeper punishment,
The men are seen who deem'd Heaven's Word, a Lie!
That Book which teaches how to live, and die,
Which bids the soul with views immortal swell,
Which scatters light where all in darkness dwell,
Thus humanizing earth, or else a hell!
Such now perceive, as in the blaze of day,
That love of evil taught them first to stray,
That in the heart, alone, the poison lay.
They chose to close their eyes, and then maintain
That all was pitchy night; that hope was vain;
And, blasphemous! their Maker to arraign.
These hang upon a hair, a gulf below,
Whence sounds arise of unimagin'd woe,
And one by one they drop, their doom to know!

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Loathsome as sin, no gaudy trappings near,
The Sensual and Lascivious, now appear;
(Their pleasures over, whilst their woes remain!)
Writhing with still-increasing sense of pain.
Here Younger, on the Elder, look, and say,
“Your filthy converse led me first astray!
“The nearer to th' impatient grave you came,
“Your words were fouler, and more lost to shame!
“Hell used your voice my precious soul to win,
“And needless fan the dormant spark of sin!
“You brought me to this place!” The Elder cry,
“And ours the deeper pang! Turn off thine eye,
“Nor see the soul that would, but cannot die!”

In near recess, now, rise upon the sight
Spirits malign, that human eye would fright,
So terrible in anguish and despair!
Abhorr'd in hell! Seducers, vile, are there!
Men who with wiles, and lies, and fair array,
Made Unsuspecting Innocence their prey;
Vow'd constancy, believed in evil hour!
And heedless laugh'd to mark the blasted flower!
Here every pang, inflicted once on earth,
A thousand fold, they feel, and, at their birth,

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Wish, but in vain, that death's o'erwhelming wave
Had sent them to the infant's peaceful grave.
And here, amid the same unhallow'd dome,
Adulterers, with the wilder'd visage, roam,
Starting, as ever, from the air, they dread
Some unseen foe, enraged, that, on their head
Pours curses, whilst, at intervals unknown,
They feel an icy touch! they hear a groan!
Prelude to fiery darts, that, from on high
Some Secret Being hurls. Ah! now they spy
Their guilty Paramour, fast flitting by!

Descending thro' a lonely passage drear,
Dol'rous and deaf'ning notes salute their ear:
And now they reach a vault, where flow'd a tide
Of liquid fire, sulphureous, deep and wide.
Here sounds burst forth, which but to hell belong,
From Bards Impure, famed for Seductive Song.
Some pour, on some, th' accusing voice and cry,
“My crimes, on thee, once loved, now hated, lie.
“Thy lewd example, and the influence
“Of talents once perverted,—my offence
“Sprang from these hot-beds. Thoughtless of the end,
“I poison'd others, foe, alike, and friend.

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“I, leagued with Vice, along my mortal road,
“To evil turn'd the gift by Heaven bestow'd;
“And I have left behind me venom, still,
“That shall this vault to latest ages fill,”
The scoffing fiend, (accused) disdainful cries,
“Forbear thy piteous moan, forbear thy sighs!
“Tho' all, thy claims to infamy allow'd,
“Thy strains were soon forgotten in the crowd.”
Wrath, heighten'd to the agony, succeeds,
Whilst each, in each, his guilt and suffering reads.
Thus, self-accusing pangs, from age to age,
Thus, rancour, boisterous hate, and hideous rage,
Unbridled, are the one long heritage
Of those, (in Song) who war, on Virtue, wage.

Lo! there the Murderer walks, with silence round,
All wild his look! the hand that gave the wound,
Wither'd, and dropping blood, where'er he strays,
Whilst on his brain, th' half-buried scorpion preys.

Next is beheld a cave of livid light,
Where crowds are seen, in a perpetual flight,
The poignard in their hand! which, in their side,
Ever they plunge, whence flows the crimson tide.

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(For here tho' death can visit pay no more,
Yet every wound, with festering, keen, and sore,
Slow heals, provoking heart-o'erflowing sighs,
Which, like the bubbling spring, perpetual rise)
These fain would flee, as water from the hill,
From their own shadows, fear their torment still!—
The Suicides are there! a ghastly crew,
Who, on themselves, the murderous weapon drew,
And (for some little care, that, with the day,
Haply had past, like summer cloud, away)
Daring their Maker, braving endless woe,
Look'd up, and curs'd their God, and gave the blow!
Others were foes to others, these, alone,
Warr'd on themselves, and now with ceaseless moan,
And tears of blood, their frantic madness own.

One step, descending, might be seen the place
Where Conquerors dwell, that iron-hearted race!
Who never heard or heeded human groans,
Who march'd thro' plains of gore, to mount their thrones,
Crushing beneath their step, as on they pass,
Infant and age, with proud disdain, like grass.
(The vacant throne is there, of sable dye,
For one, in after times, of tearless eye!
Who boasts, of conquerors, black supremacy.)

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These fierce disturbers of a world's repose
Now sit abhorr'd, whilst each, in anguish, knows
How terrible it is to dwell alone,
No flatterers near, upon no envied throne,
And count, dread task! their own unceasing groan.

Here Tyrants dwell who deem'd their subjects slaves;
Now o'er their head the plume of tinsel waves,
Mock royalty! Bedeck'd in base array,
They the first call of every imp obey,
Whilst mem'ry, clamorous foe! doth on them prey.
Those kings who murder loved, yet seem'd to fear
Such charge, tho' oft they dyed, in blood, their spear,
Their pangs must not be told to mortal ear!

And now, in hosts, the Potentates are found,
Who ever walk'd in thoughtless folly's round:
Not despots, ne'er to war and vengeance wrought,
Who only on their duties never thought!
Who lived not for their subjects, who, their days,
Wasted in idle pomp and senseless ways.
Here, with corroding anguish, they behold,
Their mass of sin! their pearls for pebbles sold,

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And mourn, too late, the source of all their woe,
That the example kings were rais'd to shew,
Protecting virtue, checking vice, and crime,
Should have appear'd, too mean for thrones sublime,
Till they alike had done, with earth and time.

The Drunkards now appear. These all employ
Their hours, bewailing past delusive joy:
But they have lost their rude and boisterous sound,
Nor must their hearts with laughter more abound.
They, by a furnace, fill'd with molten brass,
Drink, and re-dip the cup, then onward pass
Th' o'errunning goblet, red, to one before,
Who takes it, drinks, and charges it once more,
So measuring time; while none a tear can shed,
Tho' all can anguish bear, and wave their head.

In neighbouring dome, a numerous band are seen,
Gluttons! once clad in gold, now, abject! mean!
No dainty food is theirs. Beside the board
Still, they are found, without a smile, a word,
Gorging, as erst, their punishment severe,
But, on repulsive food! whilst, ever, near,
The mother and her starving child appear,

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All silent. This molesting sight of dread
Reminds the eater of the tears, once shed
By poverty, which he, disdainful, saw,
(No sun of charity his heart to thaw!)
He lived for self; his thoughts, by day and night,
What new and sumptuous fare might bring delight,
Heedless, tho' whirlwinds, kingdoms swept away,
So he, on all he loved, might sit and prey.
Still, on they eat, no hunger, respite none,
One hateful thing devour'd, the next begun,
Whilst they, in vain, the task abhorrent shun.

Here, Misers might be seen, the abject race,
Within whose breasts, compassion had no place.
Who saw but one, and loved but one, and found
No unison of soul with aught around:
Who once, with hearts unmoved, could hear the sigh,
And, at the orphan, turn the scornful eye!
For worm, or man, no sympathy to spare!
No tear to give, to thing that breathes the air!
The love, which heaven bestow'd, the world to bless,
Fix'd on a hoard!—on earth their wretchedness,
And here their torment! Grasping with all might
The empty bag, on this they fix their sight,

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As statue still, save when they seem to hear
Some wandering ghost, when dread of creature near,
Rouses them up once more to feverish fear.

And now a dark and dreary avenue
Conducts to beings, drench'd in torment new,
Here, far from all, the Hypocrites are seen,
With dress, for ever changing, blue or green,
Now azure, now of spotless white, now red,
Now black, as ever robe by midnight spread.
The shifting garb, on earth, they learnt to wear,
Their passport to all places. Then, with care,
They copied, without blush, or pang of shame,
Whatever dress might best promote their aim.
Now, in the house of prayer, with secret guile,
Owning their sins, and plotting fresh the while;
Now scoffing, with the scoffer: the profane
Now cheering, as with oaths, they heaven arraign:
Now plunging deep in every evil way
Which darkness loves, whilst they the robe display
Of innocence, which hath a heart, to bleed,
For all who, in the crowd, may pity plead.
Here the cameleon power they still retain,
Labouring to hide their soul-distracting pain.

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Each strives to cheat his neighbour and augment,
Ten-fold, the pang and power of punishment,
By boasting that no care can him distress,
And wearing look and garb of happiness:
Yet, as the scorching wind, which there doth blow,
Throws back their mantle, waving to and fro,
Whilst all around, with fear convulsive, start,
The flame is seen, consuming slow their heart,
Where, in the centre, rav'nous vipers dwell,
Not to be scared from feast they love so well!
Some sufferers, there, intenser woe endure,
These are the Priestly Hypocrites, impure,
Whose presence common fiends, dishonour'd, spurn,
Whilst their heart fires, with double fury burn,
And from them, all, as from contagion, turn.
“I thought of you,” they cry, as stern they gaze,
“I look'd at you, and copied all your ways,
“And now the penalty my spirit pays.”

In the next dome, where screws and racks appear,
The Persecutor dwells, with frown austere,
Gazing around, suspicion in his eye,
And with a heart, from feeling freed and dry,
Shouting, “My judgment is the test divine.

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“Think only if your thoughts resemble mine!”
There he conducts some brother to the flame,
He, in his turn, compell'd to bear the same.
And thus they dwell, no respite; made to be
Each one, to each, the source of misery,
From which, like heat from fire, they cannot flee.

Now might be witness'd the stupendous dome,
Where spirits of no fix'd complexion roam—
Not famed for one dark quality alone,
But for a host of little vices known,
And making up, great evils to preclude,
By number, what they want in magnilude.
These were the men who, thro their earthly round,
Never, at human bar, arraign'd, were found,
But, oft by th' human heart, with vehemence!
Selfish, and sordid, full of foul offence,
Backbiters, false, that charity despised,
Treach'rous, who, tho' for folly oft chastised,
Still loved the calumny, and whisperings prized:
Who sent the secret shaft! (of evil eye!)
Yet never heal'd the breach, or soothed the sigh.
Their torments now from varied sources spring;
Like birds of summer ever on the wing,

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No fix'd o'erwhelming curse, no pang supreme,
No suffering, carried to the point extreme,
But, from the change of passions, where they find
Illusions, all of horror, fill their mind.

Now phantoms and strange forms before them rise,
Hurling the lance that just beside them flies!
Now, in their path, the fierce-eyed dragons stand!
Now, in the air, they mark the bloody hand!
Now fiends, with fearful grin, and features dire,
Crowd close around, and paw, with claws of fire!
Now beasts, of panther kind, with gory fangs,
Roaring, draw near! whilst now above them hangs
The three-edged sword (unsheath'd) by slender thread!
Now demons pour, from high, the molten lead!
Whilst the blue fires, from streaming sulphur spread!

Now dulcet notes at hand they seem to hear,
The voice of pleasure wakes the starting tear!
List'ning, with pause intense,—the fearful sound
Of crashing thunder, startling, rolls around.
Now the sweet scent, of rose, and woodbine bower,
Rekindles thoughts of long-forgotten hour,
Whose perfumes have not lost their witching power:

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Deep breath they take of the delicious air,
But, instant chang'd, the hateful scent is there.
Now they behold some angel pitying near,
Hast'ning to break their chains, and dry their tear;
When, sudden. huge and furious fiends advance,
Arm'd with the mail of brass, and fiery lance!
They see their fond deliverer, borne away,
With struggle hard, to darkness and dismay.

Now, in their sight, the flowery meads appear,
Image which memory still retains to cheer!
Meandering streams, where buoyant sunbeams play,
While all is clothed for Nature's holiday;
The deep blue sky, that he must love who sees,
With not a sound, faint-floating, on the breeze!—
The prospect fades away, as soon as seen!
Streams vanish, tranquil skies, and meadows green,
No verdant hills, no streams, no flowrets fair;
No azure skies or pastures smooth are there,
But hideous wails, that thro' the dome prevail,
With tempest, and the blast of fiery hail.

On earth, estranged from good, they learnt to feel
Semblance of pangs, which hell must now reveal.

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They foster'd once the dark distempered mind,
Passions, impetuous as the stormy wind,
Uncurb'd, that Reason spurn'd, with fury blind:
Here, with augmented force, the same appear,
Without one verdant spot the waste to cheer.

Envy comes forth, even in the world of pain,
And loaths the fiend that wears the lighter chain;
Here Wrath, with voice of fury, shakes the air;
Here red-eyed Anger, with terrific glare,
Looks round, 'mid oaths, and imprecations dread,
Daring to combat all who near him tread.
Here Malice, with closed mouth and downward eye,
Seeks, cautious, foe, or fancied foe, to spy,
And, in th' unguarded hour, with triumph proud,
Stabs and retires, unseen, amid the croud.
And here, Revenge, in rage, remorseless, strong,
Bursts from restraint, proclaiming loud his wrong,
And towards his mark, with step, to flight allied,
Hastes, and the dagger plunges in his side.
All these bewail, in vain, their earthly deed,
But the worst pangs, from one dread source proceed:
The thought of happiness, they dwell upon—
For ever forfeited! for ever gone!

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Thro' all these realms which heaven's displeasure bear,
Thro' all these regions of intense despair,
In robe invisible to every eye,
Th' Infernal Chiefs, far wander'd, where they spy,
Exulting, on all sides, 'mid fire and shade,
The havoc wide, which Sin, on earth, had made.

Now, in the midst of a stupendous vault,
That boundless seem'd, Satan and Mammon halt.
The chief, impatient to cast off the veil
Which screen'd him from his subjects, gives the “Hail!”
And lo! he stands the Monarch of the place,
Huge and commanding! Joy, in every face,
Burst forth, whilst each, as he beheld the sight,
His torment half forgot, and with delight
(Deem'd pain on earth,) with a permission high,
Hurried to pour his ardent loyalty,
While shout, and uproar wild, unbounded fly.

Satan now sees, in one vast column, throng,
With shouts, that vault and fiery rock prolong,
Myriads of souls accurs'd. “Our King!” they cried.
“Now will we spurn our chains, this sulphurous tide,

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“These fearful realms, and, in our might, ascend,
“Led by our Monarch, the infernal's friend!
“And in 'mid air, august, with Heaven contend.”
The Chief exclaim'd aloud. “Oh powers of might!
“Your rage is mine, 'gainst Heaven and Sons of Light!
“But we must curb our spirits, yet awhile,
“And, unsubdued, at all our torments, smile.
“We must th' imperishable hate sustain
“'Till that blest moment when we burst our chain:—
“Uprise to war!” our countless legions hear,
“Whilst we, for mortal combat, lift the spear,
“Beginning, not to end, our high career!”

One burst of universal joyance rose,
Stupendous. Each the glance disdainful throws
At foes, beheld not, save in fancy's eye,
And half exclaims, exultant, “Victory!”

When Satan thus. “Majestic spirits, proud,
“That here, with fierce disdain, around me crowd,
“Made not for servitude, I know you all!
“On earth, once faithful, you obey'd my call;
“And now, with like fidelity, desire
“To conflict nobly by your Friend and Sire.”

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Cain, from the murderer's phalanx slow advanced.
Thus he began. “With reverence more enhanc'd,
“Great Potentate! whom I adored above,
“And whom I yet do honour, yet do love,
“All hail! My punishments, which sore have been,
“Have fill'd me with fresh wrath and hatred keen;
“Inspired me (to thyself approaching still)
“With deeper scorn of good and thirst of ill.
“Oh! speak of Earth! whose woods and valleys fair
“Fond memory holds. Our future hopes, declare,
“And, oh! how long these fires we yet must bear.”

Satan replied. “Yon Earth, from which you came,
“Yields the unbounded homage to my name.
“There is our strength! All in confusion tost,
“The World is rent! The Race of Man is lost!
“Each generation will our force augment,
“Till, at the last, up, with a bold ascent,
“(Led on by Satan's valour and advice,
“Who never will deceive his followers twice)
“We seize Heaven's Thrones and Seats of Paradise.”

Cain answer'd, while the hosts, assembled round,
Look'd earnest, and preserved the pause profound,—

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“Are all, of Adam born, (alas! my Sire!)
“Doom'd to descend to these abodes of fire?”
There was a language, in his air, his eyes,
As tho' one pang he felt, that would arise.

Satan thus spake. “Thou wast my earliest child,
“Since, with the Lie, thy Mother I beguiled,
“And I will answer thee, with that delight
“He feels who doth his dearest friend requite.
“Not all is won on earth. It had been mine,
“Oh! woe! but for Messiah! Son Divine!
“Who, Man to save, forgot his heavenly birth;
“And we divide the Sov'reignty of Earth!
“A Little Flock is his;—mine vast and strong!
“I, like a tide, my subjects roll along!
“And now, one family alone remains
“That hath not borne, contented, Satan's chains.
“Oh! Abraham! Oh! Lot! I would reveal
“Such hate for you as hell alone can feel!
“But I must cautious be, nor, in one hour,
“Disclose the full of my malignant power.
“One promise hath been made, which I will blast!
“To Abraham (childless long) possession vast,

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“Of Canaan's Land: and there was word exprest,
“That—‘in his seed, all nations should be blest!’
“A world if I could fathom what it meant!
“All darkness, as the midnight firmament!
“In hour, scarce gone, I had confirm'd my spite,
“But chance stepp'd in, and, lo! I lost the fight!
“Abraham one Son doth own. He rear'd, of late,
“The altar, him, to sacrifice. Oh! Fate!
“Just as the prostrate victim, on the pile,
“Waited his death, I, anxious, round the while,
“A thicket caught the ram, that thither stray'd,—
“He bled, not he for whom the fire was made.
“But tho' discomfited, in some new way,
“I will this Son, this hope of mortals, slay;
“Then will the world indeed my voice obey!”

The congregated demons crowding round
Sent thro' the vault the loud triumphant sound,
And thought of fear, as of an idle thing,
With such an arm of might, with such a king.

Satan again. “Gazing on distant day,
“Once, all but Noah, I beheld my prey!
“By chance the Deluge swept them all away.

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“Those princely spirits who high Heaven withstood,
“Here, all, I see! with fiercer wrath endued,
“And more sublime abhorrence of all good:
“Waiting my summons to combine their might
“With demons, far away, once sons of light,
“Brethren, and brave, who soon will cheeryour sight;
“When all, blest hour! with vengeance in their eye,
“Shall rise (an easy task, their leader I)
“To crush th' embattled squadrons of the sky!

“One other care remains—to lead astray,
“By keen temptation, in some special way,
“Lot, who hath never bent the subject knee,
“In token of my high supremacy.
“My court, my rendezvous, in Sodom lies!
“A sister town, Gomorrah, near doth rise,
“Famed for all noble deeds of Death and Wrong,
“Where none but spirits choice, her bulwarks throng.
“My hope is there. Should I, o'er Lot prevail
“To tarry here, where Riches never fail,
“And me, all ranks, their mighty sovereign, hail!
“The strife is won! My schemes will then unfold,
“That shall redeem you from this fiery hold,
“And win us Heaven, by arms and valour bold!”

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Thus saying, he erects his brindled hair,
And rolls his eye-ball round, in horrid stare,
When, bursting from the regions of despair,
(Mammon, the faithful, nigh,) his wings he spread,
And up, once more, to Earth, impetuous fled.

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BOOK IX.

Destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah.

The march begins. From Egypt's bounteous plains,
Abraham, with Lot, his patient course maintains.
Their masters view their herds, with honest pride,
Their sheep and camels, spread, on every side,
And as they wind along, such shepherd's store,
No eye, that wondering saw, had seen before.

The strife is heard, and, the vindictive name!
Oh! servants! Let not wrath your breasts inflame,
Your masters, they are meek, and they are kind,
Theirs is the tender heart, the feeling mind.

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Restrain the hideous look of rage severe,
And copy those whose hearts Jehovah fear!
The tumult still to height superior grows!
(Satan is there, whose heart with malice glows!)
From look they haste to threats, from word to blows.

Abraham to Lot draws near, when thus he spake.
“Do we not both one God our refuge make?
“Are we not brethren, true, in whose embrace
“Sincerity alone hath found a place?
“In us, no strife can dwell, no jar arise,
“Our spirits, harmony have learnt to prize!
“But let not these our servants jealous be.
“Too strait the path is found for thee and me.
“Let us divide! Our herds and flocks are great;
“Heaven's blessing hath improved our first estate.
“Make thou thy choice! Behold the scene around!
“On every side the land hath plenty crown'd.
“If to the left thou choose to take thy way,
“I, to the right, will turn, and for thee pray;
“But should, oh, Lot! the right appear thy will,
“I, to the left, will turn, thy brother still.”

Lot bow'd and look'd around. At Abraham's voice,

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No prayer arose that God would guide his choice!
He eyed the scene, and thoughtful stood awhile,
In doubt distress'd. All nature seem'd to smile.
Here the green hills, in full luxuriance rose,
And there the valleys lay in rich repose.
Now, with spontaneous feeling of delight,
Lot, at the Plains of Jordan cast his sight,
Whose wide campaigns, by misty mountains bound,
Meandering streams with life and verdure crown'd;
Where Palm-trees, in majestic beauty grew,
Whilst Heaven, that loves the vesture ever new,
Around, his prodigal profusion threw.
“This be my choice!” he cried. “Here Riches reign!
“And Pleasure makes the toil of wishing vain.
“Brother and friend, farewell! New joys I hail,
“And may thy spring of comfort never fail!”
Thus saying, Lot and Abraham, greeting, part,
Tears in their eye, and kindness in their heart.
Toward Canaan, Abraham turn'd, in faith serene,
While Lot at Sodom gazed, and blest the scene,
And drave his flocks, to taste its pastures green.

Oh! woe! that one who God had learnt to fear,
For lucre vile, should freely sojourn here!

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Oh! sad! that one, estranged from every crime,
Who look'd beyond the narrow rounds of time,
Knew how to estimate each mortal thing,
The purest pleasure, ever on the wing!
Should thus abide, for all earth calls her own,
Where each abomination held her throne.

Messiah mark'd the desolation wide
Spread o'er the land, like an o'erwhelming tide;
Beheld what chains, the Sons of Sodom bound,
Mark'd crimes of hideous aspect raging round,
And paus'd, in lingering thought, to search and see
If yet one hope remain'd, one remedy!
“It is in vain,” he cried, “all thorn and briar,
“I will destroy them with a Flood of Fire!”

Abraham look'd upward, as the victim bleeds,
Contrite his spirit, and for pardon pleads.
Beside him, drest in garb, like morning, hoar,
He views three Angels—One, oft seen before!
The seraph form began, “This land divine,
“Rich in all gifts, and precious, shall be thine!
“Thy sons, and thy sons' sons, shall flourish here.
“My arm shall screen them from the peril near,

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“And, till one day, far distant, to thy race
“This land shall be a fruitful dwelling-place!”

Abraham low bow'd, with prostrate heart and knee!
“Why should my secret thoughts be veil'd from thee?”
Once more the Angel spake. “In thee I view,
“The love of holiness, the spirit true;
“The heart that pants for an immortal crown,
“And dreads no evil—like Jehovah's frown!
“I know that thou wilt still my name confess,
“Display, and teach thy children, Righteousness;
“That thou wilt honour me while life remain,
“And still reprove an Evil World, and Vain.
“I will disclose the secret of my soul—
“Thunders terrific thro' the Heavens shall roll!
“Sodom shall be destroy'd! and, by her side,
“Gomorrah sink! They both have God defied!
“Soon the fierce blast of Heaven shall on them light,
“And fiery whirlwinds sweep them from my sight!
“Go forth!” to the two Angels, slow he spake,
“My will you know, and vengeance must awake!”

Th' obedient Angels, on their way advance,
When Abraham, rising from affliction's trance,

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Earnest replied. “May dust, like me, presume
“To seek thee to avert the righteous doom?
“Oh! check thy wrath! Oh! spare them yet awhile!
“Thy breast is merciful, tho' they are vile.
“If fifty hearts should there be heard to pray,
“Who mourn, on all sides round, the evil way,
“Wilt thou the righteous with the wicked slay?
“Can darkness, for a moment, dim thy sight?
“Shall not the Judge of all the Earth do right?”
The Seraph thus. “If fifty there be found
“Who God adore, my thunders shall not sound.”
“Oh! pardon!” Abraham cried, with bended knee,
“Perchance, of fifty, five may lacking be
“Wilt thou, for these, fulfil thy dread decree?”
“Not so,” the Seraph spake. The reverend Sire,
Thus answer'd. “From thy face the heavens retire!
“If ten should lack of fifty, wilt thou then
“Punish, to death, these blots of earth and men?”
“No.” said the Seraph. Abraham thus replied.
“Oh! do not spurn thy suppliant, do not chide!
“If thirty there be found, shall then the place,
“For these, and these alone, obtain thy grace?”
“Thirty,” the Seraph, with a sigh, replied,
“Shall turn my anger, (loath to fall) aside.”

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Abraham again. “Since I, a worm, a reed,
“Have on me taken, with my God, to plead,
“Should there but twenly righteous there be found,
“Shall these with bulwarks strong the place surround?”
To Abraham, thus, the awful seraph spake.
“I will not wake, to wrath, for twenty's sake.”
“Yet once again, once only I implore,”
The bending suppliant cried. “If ten adore
“The Majesty of Heaven, and mourn and sigh
“Over the fearful sins that round them lie,
“Then wilt thou (to the Angels near thee) give
“The voice that stays, and let these sinners live?”
Messiah cried. “For ten I will restrain
“My frown, and not, on Sodom, vengeance rain.
“But there are not within that haunt of pride,
“That spacious place, where Wealth and Satan hide,
“Five righteous men to turn my wrath aside!”
“Oh! spare my Brother!” Abraham weeping cried.
“For him and his, some safe retreat provide!”
Messiah spake. “On Lot a veil doth lie!
“The pestilence, the storm, shall pass him by;
“But on that town, standing on ruin's brink,
“That Earth, to latest times, on her may think!
“And shudder at her eminence of ill,

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“I will my vials with destruction fill!
“And on her pour, 'mid fear and panic pale,
“The brimstone, and the fiery blast of hail!”
So saying, like some momentary sound,
He past away, when silence reign'd around.

Lot, at the gate of Sodom, sat and eyed
The day's departing crimson, spreading wide.
Nature, in consecrated vest, was seen:
The valley smiled, where Jordan flow'd serene;
Slowly, the pine declined his lordly head,
The shrubs and flowers their sweetest perfumes shed,
And all around (each harsher note exiled)
To sober thought the musing heart beguiled,
Whilst softly blew the breeze of evening mild.
Lot ponder'd on the lovely scene around,
Where beauty reign'd, whilst sweet was every sound,
Then sigh'd o'er Sodom, sunk in deadliest sin,
Without, all beauty! Vileness, all, within!
He sees two men advance of stately frame,
Their names, their forms, unknown, and whence they came.
Lot hastens forth, with hospitable zeal,
“Come,” he exclaim'd. “The evening fast doth steal:

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“Tarry, till morn, with day's hard toil opprest,
“And I will wash your feet, and you shall rest,
“And taste my choicest food, my viands best.”
The Strangers wave consent, with princely air,
And, led by Lot, to his near home repair.

Seated beside the board, the Strangers spake.
“There is an hour, when God, to wrath will wake.
“Sin here abounds. The warning voice we bear.
“These plains shall perish! To thy Sons repair!
“Tell them, their wives, their children, to retire
“With thee, from Sodom, for o'erwhelming fire,
“Erelong, 'mid horror and supreme dismay,
“Shall sweep it from the face of earth away.”
“Oh! tell me!” Lot, with trembling heart replied.
“Do not, oh, sent of God! the moment hide:
“What time, declare! The fearful hour proclaim,
“When Heaven will rise to vindicate his name.”

A noise is heard without! an uproar loud!
The shout terrific of th' infernal crowd!
Lot starts! In fiercer vehemence, austere,
The terror-rousing accent meets the ear!

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Forth to the street he hastes. The host, before,
Raise, to more deaf'ning shouts, their demon roar!
“Away!” he cried. “Oh! Belial Sons, away!”
They fain had forced the door, in fierce array.
The Strangers, like the sun that runs his race,
In strength, came forth, no terror in their face;
Their host, they rescued, with surpassing might!
One moment, awed th' assailants, with their sight!
Then, on their eye-balls pour'd the blackest night!

Lot, trembling, doubting of his safety still,
His blood yet creeping on, as winter chill,
Bends to his stranger Friends, with sigh and tear:
When, lo! Two Angels, in his sight appear!
Awhile the silence reigns, when, thus they spake,
“These plains, Oh, Lot! with all thou lov'st, forsake!
“Flames now are treasured up, and judgment lies,
“Waiting the word, to burst from yonder skies,
“And on these sinners, (turn'd by hell aside)
“Alight, and whelm them all in ruin wide!”

Lot hastens to his friends, with earnest eye,
“Hence!” he exclaim'd. “From death, from Sodomfly!
“Its crimes, erelong, of heaven and earth abhorr'd,

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“God will, in deathless characters, record!
“Whilst th' elemental war all hearts appal,
“Ruin will, in the fiery deluge, fall!
“Sons! brethren! ere the sun of vengeance rise,
“Oh! hear the voice of warning, and be wise!”
Loud laughter bursts! “Haste thou!” they scornful spake.
“We Ashtaroth, alone, our refuge make!
“Married, and given in marriage, we will be!
“The song, the dance, be ours, the revelry!
“Fly! idle dreamer! Speed to refuge near!
“We all will eat and drink, and laugh at fear!
“And quaff new goblets still to Baal-Peor!”

The first of morning now had streak'd the sky.
“Up!” cried the Angels. “Judgment, lo! is nigh!”
Lot, with his wife, his daughters, now proceed,
The Angels near, with terror's quick'ning speed.

The Belial sons of Sodom, at that hour,
Out from their dwellings, like a torrent pour
To raise the pile, where, 'mid the demon cry,
A Hundred Children, to their God might die!
“Can you not,” Lot exclaim'd, “these infants save?
“Oh! lift your voice! The hand forbidding wave!”

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The Angels, solemn, spake. “No choice we own.
“The delegated might is ours alone!”
“Haste, for thy life!” exclaim'd the Seraph Friend.
“Till thou art safe, no storm the air can rend,
“Nor fire, on this devoted town, descend!”
To Zoar fast they speed; and now they stand
Upon the walls, and with th' uplifted hand,
Bewilder'd gaze, (and speechless) on the plain
That must, so soon, the wrath of God sustain!

Perplexing mists prevail. What voice was there?
Faint-heard and shrill, that dies upon the air?
It is the Infants' shriek, that piercing cry,
Loud calling down, the vengeance of the sky!

The Heavens, in threat'ning pomp, are now array'd.
Still, cloud on cloud, fast gathers, shade on shade.
The far-off thunder rises on the ear!
And now the storm, advancing, rages near!
The quick, and long-suspended flash is seen,
Between whose fires, strange noises intervene,
Whilst unknown gleam, portentous, clothes the scene.
And now the peal of awful majesty,
From end, to end, rolls crashing thro' the sky!

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The element dissolves with fervent heat!
Ah! that unearthly burst of flood-like sheet,
Which Heaven, in one vast chasm, terrific, rends!
See! The impetuous gush of fire descends!
The brimstone blasts, sight-quenching, wide prevail!
There the red deluge, madden'd, pours its hail!
And, 'mid the deep and preternatural night,
The Flame from Sodom, kindles on the sight!
Whilst horror chains the heart, and fear the eye,
And bolts, and blazing vengeance range the sky,
Another fire is seen! more dread! more dense!
O'er which the lightning bursts in permanence!
Gomorrah Falls! ('mid the distracting sound)
While Earth, in giant tremblings, heaves around!

Combustion and fierce whirlwinds, thro' the night,
Combine, to shake the soul, with sound and sight!
Now, the unbridled storm hath ceas'd to rave.
Intense, as is the silence of the grave,
Stillness prevails! The clouds slow pass away!
And the grey dawn leads on to peaceful day!
Ah! Where are now the Cities of the Plain?
Where is the vaunt of strength? The shout profane?
Their sons, august, as hell, in every crime,
From earth have perish'd, like the wreck of time!

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No longer Heaven their voice, defying, hears!
Where once their cities stood, the Lake appears!
Spreading, with awful sweep, from hill to hill!
Whilst all of life is vanish'd! All is still!

150

BOOK X.

Isaac and Rebecca.

Beneath the Palm-tree, in the noon-tide heat,
Abraham reclined, and felt that rest was sweet.
Toward Lebanon he gazed, with cedars crown'd.
The birds, in wanton gladness, sported round,
And whilst deep silence mark'd the earth and air,
To God his thoughts ascend in ardent prayer.
An Angel to the Patriarch appears!
He cried, “Behold thy friend! Allay thy fears!
“Whoe'er aspires to reach the upper sky
“Must guard with vigilance, his heart, his eye;
“Partner must seek, who, like himself, will feel,
“And not retard his course, and quench his zeal.

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“Here are idolaters! With tempting smile,
“They would (of hell inspired) thy Son beguile.
“He, with thyself, hath my protection shared,
“And I, for him, far off, have Wife prepared.
“Thou, up to Bethuel send. He fears my name!
“Himself, his Sire, his Offspring, all the same!”
The Vision ceas'd, like a departed flame!

Abraham, his Servant call'd, when thus he spake.
“Thy scrip, thy food, thy camels, instant take.
“Go, seek my Brother! From his house obtain,
“Where God, alone, in every heart doth reign!
“The Wife for Isaac! None who sojourn here,
“Walk in Jehovah's light, nor him revere!
“Here vanity her evil race doth run.
“From far must come the Helpmeet for my Son,
“For God hath said, whom I have long confess'd,
“‘That in my seed all nations shall be bless'd.’
“Haste thou to Bethuel, ere yon orb decline,
“And let the vow, the solemn oath be thine!”

The Servant thus replies. “No easy thing,
“Were it, from Nahor's house, the Wife to bring;

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“For who would come, with stranger such as I?
“Were I to whisper Isaac's secret sigh
“The frighted maid would from my presence fly.”

Abraham replied. “If God doth rule below,
“And ever guide our wanderings, to and fro,
“Our least concerns, distinctly comprehend,
“Will he, in such an hour, no succour send?—
“To bring about th' event, that, here on earth,
“Gives to ten thousand thoughts and actions birth,
“Yet bears, to faith and reason's equal eye,
“Its grandest aspect to eternity?
“If God designs to prosper thee, and give
“This blessing to my Son, in whom I live,
“All obstacles shall vanish! Hear once more.
“Thou shalt be prosper'd! One shall go before,
“To smooth thy way, upon thy path, to shine,
“And thou shalt see and bless the Hand Divine.”

Ten camels now by Abraham's tent appear,
Rich in all store, the faithful servant near.
Isaac comes forth, before his Sire, and cries,
With palpitating heart and glistening eyes,

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“Plead earnest. Bring me, favour'd from above,
“One, from my Father's house, whom I may love,
“And speed thou with the pinion of the dove!”
Thus saying, he retired; when Abraham, now,
And Sarah (who, with years long-lengthen'd, bow)
Draw near. They bless the Servant; thus they say,
“Jehovah prosper thee in all thy way!
“Make every path, in doubtful moment, clear,
“And bear our love to Nahor, brother dear!”
The Servant passes on. “Stop!” Sarah cried,
“These Ear-rings, these rich Bracelets I provide
“For Sarah's Hope, and Isaac's future Bride;
“And mind thou praise my Son, to all endear'd,
“As fair a flower as ever nature rear'd.”

Now, on his way, the Servant passes slow.
The camels, one by one, contented go:
High o'er the hills they climb, or cross the plain;
And now, thro' woods, their patient course maintain.
The flood of gold had oft the orient fired,
And many a sun, in peerless pomp, retired,
When by the city Nahor call'd his own,
The Servant, half dishearten'd, sat alone.

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Gazing upon the evening firmament,
He seem'd upon an idle errand sent.
The thought arose that he would Heaven implore.
His heart he lifts, amid confusion sore;
“Teach me,” he cried, “the wisest way to take!
“For Isaac, for my reverend Master's sake.
“Oh, guide me in this hour of doubt and pain,
“Nor let me hither speed, and speed in vain.
“Here is the well, where maids, at even tide,
“Come forth to draw, and for their wants provide:
“Grant that the damsel, who may feel for age,
“When I for water ask, my thirst t' assuage,
“And, prompted by humanity's sweet law,
“May offer, for my camels, faint, to draw,
“May this be she, appointed by thy hand
“To bless my Master's heart, my Master's hand.'

He scarce had offer'd up the mental prayer,
When, lo! a Damsel, as the evening, fair,
Blooming, with ringlets, waving wild in air,
Thither repair'd, to draw the pure, white, wave,
And home to bear what bounteous nature gave.

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The Servant slow approach'd and thus began.
“Have pity on a lone and weary man!
“Oh! Damsel, from thy pitcher let me drink,
“For, lo! with heat I faint, with toil I sink.”
The Damsel, with the feeling heart replied,
“Drink, Stranger! of this cold and cheering tide;
“And, as old age thy locks hath silver'd o'er,
“I will return, and draw some water more
“For these thy thirsty camels.” As she said,
The Servant closed his eye, and bow'd his head,
Owning His power, who light from darkness brings,
And guides, to eye unseen, all mortal things.

The camels now had drunk, when, from his store,
The stranger, forth, his rings and bracelets bore.
“Take these,” he spake, “these ornaments, and say,
“Who is thy Father, and, as closes, day,
“If thou hast room and provender to spare
“For me and for these beasts, till morning, fair,
“Bids me renew my toil, and onward bear.”

The Damsel with delight receives the prize,
And, in the glow of grateful ardour, cries,

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“We have both room and food.” She said no more
But, with the light foot, hastening on before,
Fled to her Father's house. Earnest, she spake,
“Behold these gifts of gold! To pity wake!
“Fly to the well! An aged Man is there!
“He succour needs, and we have food to spare!”
Her speech the Brother heard, and, rushing out,
(His dog beside) with sturdy step, and stout,
Hastes to the well! He sees the aged Man,
And thus, with hospitable voice began.
“Oh! blessed of the Lord! who here art sent,
“Let me conduct thee to our neighbouring tent;
“And for these camels that beside thee lie,
“Joyful, will we the provender supply.”
Whilst evening's dews around descended fast,
The Servant, urged by kindness, onward past.

He enters now the door. All there await
The generous Man, with pause and wonder great.
He sees the board with rich abundance crown'd,
And young and old, alike, attentive round,
When, thus he said. “Kind friends and good you are;
“Heaven bless you all! But now your names declare!”

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The Master cried. “My name is Bethuel.
“There is my Sire, Old Nahor. At yon well
“My child, Rebecca, thou didst first behold;
“And there is Laban, Son, that tends my fold.
“Welcome to this our roof! Receive our fare!
“And tarry long! It is our earnest care,
“Freely, our goods, with men, like thee, to share.”

The Stranger, grateful for the word, replied
“I thank you. Now no more my views I hide.
“I am a Servant. Abraham is my lord!”
Old Nahor, instant, rising at the word,
(A venerable man, with locks of grey,
Soon to be call'd to nobler worlds away,)
Thus answer made. “Is Abraham yet alive?
“My Brother? Doth he yet in health survive?
“Tho' now life's current feebly flows and chill,
“My spirit loves him as a Brother still.
“He taught me, first, on faith's strong wing to rise!
“He raised my heart, my hopes, beyond the skies!
“Take of our food! Thou art with toil opprest,
“And then, with blessings round, retire to rest;
“Tomorrow we will hear once more our guest.”

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The Servant answer'd. “Abraham is well.
“His greetings kind he sends. But now I tell
“What business led me here, till which is said,
“I will not rest, partake, nor taste thy bread.
“I am a Servant. Abraham is my lord.
“Great store is his. He hath a bounteous board,
“Large flocks and herds, surpast of none around,
“And he, with fear of God, the whole hath crown'd.
“One Son hath Heaven bestow'd. A goodly youth,
“Whose brow is honesty, whose heart is truth.
“Me, late, my Master call'd, and thus began.
“‘Thou art my prop in age, a trusty man,
“Swear that thou never wilt a Wife obtain
“For Isaac, from these lands, where evils reign,
“And idols, wood, and stone, their rule maintain.
“Go to my Brother's house. To Nahor, speed,
“And for my duteous Son, my Isaac, plead.
“Seek there a Wife. May Heaven thy journey bless!
“And bring thee back, to cheer our heaviness.’
“Late, at the well, without thy walls, I stood,
“Musing on many things, but naught of good,
“Deeming, alas! with sore, disheart'ning fear,
“That me, a stranger, none would deign to hear,
“And dreading some mistake, with pang severe;

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“A flood of consolation, in my mind,
“Sudden arose. The God of all mankind,
“I sought, with earnest hope and fervent prayer.
“‘Guide me,’ I said! ‘The clouds of evening, fair,
“Now gather round. The damsels, to this well,
“Soon, from yon town, will hasten, where they dwell,
“Grant that the maid, who, as with toil I sink,
“May, to thy servant, kindly give to drink;
“Grant that the maid, obeying pity's law,
“Who, for my camels, offers, prompt, to draw,
“And her full pitcher hands, with spirit meek,
“Oh! grant that she may be the maid I seek.’
“Ere yet the thought had faded, forth there came
“To fill her pitcher, one, of unknown name:
“Yon damsel, that now musing sits, the same!
“I ask'd. She granted with the willing mind;
“And, lo! she said, with accent soft and kind,
“`I for thy camels, too, will water find.”
“Now therefore, of a truth, do I perceive
“That God hath brought me here, and cease to grieve.
“Oh! Bethuel! Oh! Nahor, forth declare,
“If you will crown my hope, and, at my prayer,
“Let me Rebecca to my Master bear?”

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Bethuel and Nahor cried, as low they bent,
“The thing is of the Lord! We must consent!
“Our Daughter, kind and gentle (whom we prize,
“Above each earthly gift that round us lies)
“When some ten days, too short! thou here dost stay,
“Thou, to thy Master's Son, shalt bear away.”
“Hinder me not!” the Servant, earnest, cried.
“To-morrow, let me haste, with Isaac's Bride.”
The Mother, and the Brother, thus replied.
“Here is the Maid. Let her alone decide.
“Wilt thou to-morrow go?” “I will!” she said.
The Servant heard, and lowly bow'd his head.

The morning dawns. The camels all appear:
The Servant waits: Rebecca now draws near.
The Mother spake. “Affection! till this hour
“Of anguish deep, I knew not half thy power!
“How shall I yield thee up! How, check the sigh,
“The tear that will bedim a Mother's eye!
“Heaven bless thee, oh, my Daughter! May'st thou see
“Good days and many! and in times, to be,
“Oh! think of one that loves thee! Think of me!”
Bethuel advanced, the tear upon his cheek,
He look'd, he sigh'd, he would, but could not speak.

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Laban now came, with words of love prepared,
Firm in determin'd strength, that feeling dared:
But when he mark'd his weeping Sister dear,
And saw, too true! moment of parting near,
He could but press the hand and drop the tear.
Old Nahor, too, just whisper'd faint, “Farewell!
“Live here, thatthou, at last, in Heaven, may'st dwell!”
Rebecca now, with sorrow's sweetest grace,
Gives to each round, the fond and warm embrace;
And when, at length, the camels onward pace,
Gently she waves her hand, and hides her face.

Sarah, to Abbaham spake. “Oh! Husband, say!
“Where is our Isaac? From the earliest day,
“These eyes have seen him not.” The Father said,
“Yon fields, of late, he loves, alone, to tread.
“Perchance, with nature, sanctified around,
“Where all alike is lovely, sight and sound,
“He may delight, his canopy the air,
“To lift to Heaven, th' adoring heart, in prayer!”
But, other thoughts have prompted Isaac there!
The time draws on, when he might hope to see
The Servant, sent on far-off embassy.

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And oft, in anxious search, he casts his eye
Up to the line that severs earth and sky,
And listens, whilst fond dreams his fancy cheat,
To catch the faintest sound of voice or feet!
“It is an age,” he said, “of lengthen'd pain;
“The Servant pleads and I shall sigh in vain.”

Emerging from a waving forest deep,
The Servant now drew nigh, and, down the steep,
His camels urged, Rebecca near his side.
The Maiden, in the fields, a stranger spied!
“And who is that?” she said, “that yonder strays?
“Now looking down; and now that here doth gaze.”
The Servant answer made, “My work is done!
“Hither he speeds! It is my Master's Son!”
The Maid alights, the blush upon her cheek
“My veil!” t' her faithful Nurse, she strove to speak;
And now the thin veil half conceals her face.
Isaac bounds on, as in impetuous race,
But when he nearer came, his speed subsides.
The tremor thro' his vein, unwonted, glides.
Slow he approaches. Words, so free of yore,
Now all are flown. Such beauty, not before,

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Such loveliness, in woman, had he seen,
A look so sweet, with such commanding mien.
He would have said, while pressing faint her hand,
“First earthly treasure, welcome to this land.”
But vain he strove They each the glance impart,
And now he holds her rapturous to his heart!

The tidings fly. Old Abraham, from his seat,
Seizes his staff, and hurries out to meet.
Sarah, fast throws aside her homely dress,
And, clothed in special garb, with earnestness,
Follows her lord. And now they her have found,
For whom so many sighs were wont to sound,
And mix'd their tears, with cordial blessings round.

Borne, scarce conducted, to the dwelling near,
Sarah pours forth affection in her ear,
And hopes, and prays, that every joy below,
Isaac, and his Rebecca, long may know,
And the least part descend of human woe.

Now Abraham spake, the venerable sage,
Whose blood, in feeble current flow'd, with age;

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And in whose aspect, there appear'd to be
So much of heaven, of angel dignity,
That, at his voice, all present seem'd to scan
The presence of some being, more than man.
Abraham thus spake. “My child, withhold thy tear!
“Welcome to Canaan's land, thrice welcome here!
“My earthly joy is o'er, my cup is dry.
“And now, with hope complete, I wait to die!
“Dear to my Son, Oh, Maid! and dear to me,
“A brother's features in thy face I see,
“With such sweet promise, that no thought is mine,
“But that thy path, with every grace will shine.”

From accident, th' involuntary spring
Of feeling, half unconscious of the thing,
Rebecca bends before her aged Sire.
Isaac fast follows her, whose warm desire,
Eyes, glist'ning, told, as to his knees they cleave.
Was, that they both, his blessing might receive!

Abraham look'd up, when thus the word went forth
“Enough of vanity! Enough of earth!
“I long to see the world, by faith, reveal'd!
“I pant for purer joys than time can yield!

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“With weariness the load of flesh I bear!
“Heaven's regions wait, beyond this world of care!
“My home, and my inheritance are there!
“Before the mouldering veil of flesh is rent,
“Before I seek the upper Firmament,
“Receive a Father's blessing. May you rise,
“Like cedars, and a passing world despise!
“Oh! Children, for eternity be wise!
“And whilst, a little span, you sojourn here,
“(More faithful than myself) Jehovah fear!
“In each perplexing scene, or peril, fly
“And counsel ask of God, who still is nigh!
“An altar, near your house, immediate raise,
“And there, with incense sweet, your Maker praise!
“So shall his favour bless you all your days!
“My flocks, wide scatter'd, you erelong will own:
“Remember, ever, you are Stewards alone,
“And that th' account, to Heaven, Omnipotent.
“Strictly, must soon be given, of time mis-spent,
“Of every trust received, and talent lent.
“Oh! Children, shun the high and lofty mind!
“Be kind to all, and to yourselves be kind!
“Perfection is a flower not known below,
“And if, in hours to come, of joy, or woe,

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“In one, in both, (the forfeit sin must pay!)
“Some things should rise, which you could wish away,
“Forgive the little fault, if such it be,
“And cover all, with holiest charity!
“My Children! with the kindling joy, I say,
“My spirit soon will rise and soar away,
“From mists and cheerless night, to perfect day!
“Oh! when your work is closed, your race is run,
“May we, in worlds, beyond yon glorious sun,
“Joining the Seraph Host who, God, adore,
“Again transported meet—to part no more!”

Silence awhile prevail'd, when tear and sigh,
Burst from each heart, and glisten'd in each eye.
And now, if happiness can dwell below,
Its presence Isaac and Rebecca know;
Both walking in Jehovah's light and fear,
Both own'd of God, with watchful angels near,
A Heaven beyond, and earth's best blessing here!

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BOOK XI.

Jacob and Esau.

The wheels of time roll round, and Isaac, now,
With age, begins to droop, with years, to bow,
His eyes, in dimness clothed, he waits the day,
Tranquil, that calls him from the world away.
As o'er his misty eye-ball sun-beams dance,
Beneath his porch, he sits, in musing trance,
And feels (whilst peace, in prayer to heaven, he found)
The genial warmth that cheers all nature round.
“My child, where artthou?” thus he said. “Comenigh.”
When Esau spake, “My Father, here am I.”

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Isaac replied. “My sun is going down:
“One gift I ask, Thou hast acquired renown
“In hunt and chace. Thy quiver and thy bow
“Take thou! and, that my spirit joy may know,
“Let me the venison from thy hand receive,
“And I will bless thee ere the world I leave.”
“My Father!” Esau answer'd, “I will speed!
“The fleetest hind shall by this arrow bleed!
“For more than every good that round me lies,
“Thy will do I revere, thy blessing prize.”

Rebecca hears, She marks her elder born
Haste to the woods, with quiver, and with horn,
When, eager, to her Jacob, thus she cried.
“Thou art my duteous child, my hope, my pride!
“Attend! This instant, to the fields around,
“Esau hath sped to hunt, with dart and hound:
“From him thy Sire hath sought the savoury meat
“That he may bless him. Flee! with Nimrod feet,
“To the near fold. Two kids immediate slay,
“And I will dress them. I will thee array
“In their soft skins, (for thou art smooth, and he,
“Thy Brother, hairy) so, my hopes, shall be

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“Thus perfected, and thou, for whom I sigh
“Shalt have thy Father's blessing ere he die.
“Thy Brother, thought of pungency and pain!
“Hath wedded one, idolatrous and vain;
“He, from thy Sire, the gift shall not obtain.
“What! Dost thou hesitate? In years, long past,
“Visions, thy Mother, from on high, o'ercast!
“And, lo! the voice she heard. `In times to be,
“The elder shall submit, and bend the knee
“To one, the younger born; Oh, Son! to thee.
“Fear not! Thy Mother heed! Her word obey!
“Receive thy Father's blessing, whilst thou may!
“It will the harvest yield in after day.”

The kids are slain. The savoury meat is made.
Jacob, Rebecca, fitly hath array'd,
And given him words to speak: and now he stands,
Before his Sire, the venison in his hands.
Thus he began. “Oh! Father! prized and dear,
“Receive, from me, the food thy heart to cheer.”

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“Who art thou?” Isaac said. The Son replied.
“I am thy Esau. I, my dart have dyed
“In blood of hind, and now the savoury meat,
“I place, my Sire! obedient, at thy feet.”
“How is it,” Isaac said, “that on this day
“Thou hast obtain'd (as tho' it near thee lay)
“So soon the venison?” Jacob, with dismay,
Thus answer'd. “Sire! a wonder here is wrought.
“Heaven gave me speed, and sent me what I sought.
“Now, from my hands, thy earnest want supply,
“And bless me, with thy blessing, ere thou die.”
Isaac, to Jacob, spake. “My Son! come near,
“That I may feel thee, whilst thy voice I hear,
“And know, before I taste thy proffer'd fare,
“That thou, my very Esau, such dost bear.”
Now Isaac feels his Son. “Thou art.” he said,
“Like Esau, with the hairy garb o'erspread,
“And yet, the voice is Jacob's. Oh! I err!
“My ear is now the poor interpreter!
“And these, my orbs, are quench'd. Thou art indeed
“My very Esau, and I pardon plead.
“Forgive me, oh! my Son! Upon thy head,
“Let me, my hand, with age thus trembling, spread,
“And I will bless thee.—May the dew of Heaven

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“Descend upon thy head! Let corn be given!
“Let fatness and all good around thee shine!
“Let wine and oil, in plenteous streams, be thine?
“Nations shall serve thee, and present their vow.
“Thy father's house shall call thee, Lord, and bow.
“Blessings, on him shall rest, who blesses thee,
“And who shall curse my Son, shall cursed be.”

The horn is heard aloud! In hurrying pace,
Esau advances, joyous, from the chase,
The venison in his hand. Eager he ran
To seek his aged Sire, and thus began.
“My Father! from thy Son, the gift receive!
“Choice food it is. And, Oh! my words believe!
“With wing-like zeal, I travers'd rock and hill;
“And now, my best reward! Oh! eat thy fill,
“Nor doubt thy Esau's love and reverence still.
“Why speak'st thou not, my Sire!” From his closed eye
The tear stole down, and deeply sounds the sigh.
Doubt, and strange silence reign. At length the Sire,
Thus answer'd slow. “Ere I from earth retire,
“Ere quit this chequer'd scene, I must sustain
“Fresh loads of woe, and heart-consuming pain.

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“My Son! my Esau! thou art wrong'd! Oh! woe!
“No power is mine the blessing to bestow!
“Thy Brother, even Jacob, he, to me,
“Offer'd the savoury meat, and clasp'd my knee,
“And call'd himself, my Esau! I believed,
“And he, my Son! the Blessing hath received!”

The flood of sorrow came, when Esau cried.
“My Father? how shall I my anguish hide?
“In pity, still, my burthen'd heart, to cheer,
“Bless me! even me! the gift, than life, more dear!”
Isaac replied. “I must thy prayer deny!
“The gift is gone! The virtue is past by!
“I cannot grant thy wish, my pleading Son!
“Th' unchanging word is past! The deed is done!”
“Oh! evil Brother!” Esau, sorrowing said.
“Thou hast, ere this, the snare before me spread.
“In hour of need, now mourn'd with sorrow vain,
“By subtilty, my Birth-right thou didst gain,
“And now, by craft unknown, and deep disguise,
“My Blessing thou hast gain'd! my greatest prize!
“Hast thou not, Oh, my Father, yet, in store
“One Blessing for me? One! I ask no more.

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“Consult thy heart, my Sire! consult thy will!
“Let, from thy mouth, some accents sweet distil!
“And bless me, Oh, my Father! Bless me still!”

Isaac replied. “My Son, I own thy worth.
“The dew of heaven, the fatness of the earth,
“Shall be thy portion. Thou, with sword and bow,
“Bless'd of the Lord, shalt all thy foes o'erthrow:
“Yet, in a way, that faith alone can see,
“Thou must thy Brother serve, and bend the knee!
“But when the fulness of the time is nigh,
“The elder, shall, his yoke of slavery,
“Break, and return to his deserted rest,
“Contrition in his heart, with pangs opprest,
“And be the child beloved, for ever blest.”

Esau retires, whilst indignation deep
Broods at his heart. He now hath ceas'd to weep:
When, to the friend, in secrecy, he spake.
“Soon shall my smother'd wrath, to war awake!
“My Brother! Brief his pride! Erelong, my Sire
“Will, from these scenes, to happier worlds retire,
“Then, tho' a voice from Heaven should utter, ‘Stay!’
“I will my vow fulfil and Jacob slay!”

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The secret spreads! Rebecca, to her child,
Her Jacob, cried, with visage wan and wild,
“Flee! Oh, my Son! No hour hast thou to spare.
“There is, at hand, a deep and deadly snare!
“Thy Brother seeks thy life! To Laban speed!
“My distant Brother, in this hour of need,
“Till Esau's rage is past! To intercede,
“Now, none may dare. May Heaven protect thy flight!
“And soon return thee, harmless, to my sight!”
Jacob look'd up, amid the starting tear,
Then, utter'd sad, “Farewell, my Mother, dear!
“Sorrow is mine, and keen! Some hopes beguile,
“That I shall live to see thee yet, and smile.
“Farewell!” His staff he took, and drooping came
To where his Father sat. Opprest with shame,
Thus he began. “Oh! Sire! my sin is great!
“And now, its load I bear, a heavy weight!
“I Bethuel seek, yet will I not retire,
“(My just desert) before a brother's ire,
“Ere I confess my crime, and seek from thee
“Forgiveness. Hast thou yet a smile for me,
“My Father! Heaven hath heard my secret cry,
“Wilt thou withhold thy voice, and let me fly,

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“Unpardon'd, to a far and unknown land?
“Oh! bless me! Lo! thy suppliant here I stand!
“Thy substance give to Esau! I will go
“A wanderer thro' the world;—distress and woe,
“My portion! I, for these, my home resign,
“But, let a Father's blessing still be mine!”

Isaac (affection's tide returning) cried,
“I cannot longer frown, I cannot chide!
“Thou hast done wrong, my Son! but Heaven, on high,
“Can bring, from evil, good, To Bethuel fly,
“And, with thee, take my blessing. Now, attend,
“Oh! Son! my solemn charge. I, near my end,
“Think now on thee. The Wife, thou shalt not take
“From Canaan's daughters. They, their refuge make
“Idols, of stocks and stones, but, wiser, thou
“Hast to Jehovah, only, learn'd to bow.
“Arise! To Padan-Aram take thy way!
“Jehovah, fear! and ever, Him, obey!
“The blessing on thee rests, and may'st thou rise
“In goodness eminent. Each snare, that lies
“Around thy path, may Heaven, in mercy, break
“And guard thee, for my Father Abraham's sake!

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“Nations shall from thee spring! A multitude
“Call thee their Sire, with wisdom true endued!
“And in his time, the Lord, whom I adore,
“(If yet, on earth, such good is not in store)
“Oh! may we meet, above, to part no more!
“Farewell, my Son!” With anguish, sore opprest,
Jacob no utterance found. He smote his breast,
Compunction in his heart. The hand he prest
Of the loved Parent, guide for many a year!
And as he bore it to his lips, the tear
Gush'd forth! With the o'erwhelming weight of woe,
He turn'd, to seek his journey, sad and slow.

(Oft looking round, with spirit ill at rest,
Lest, from some wood, or tower, in ivy drest,
Esau's armed band should burst, and him molest)
O'er many a sandy waste, and rugged hill,
The lonely wanderer past, in sadness still:
Now suffering from the noon-day heat, now found
Wet, with the dews of night, fast falling round.
To Haran's waste he came. No home to cheer!
The glowing heavens declared the evening near.
No track of human foot delights his eye:
The whizzing insect hurried thro' the sky,

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Save which, no form of life around him rose
To soothe his weary spirit to repose!
Amid this cheerless hour, this dreary scene,
He has a friend, to human eye unseen;
Thinking on God, he finds his soul serene!
Oh! then, how sweet, in that deserted hour,
To feel, the trust, in his protecting power
Who knows the heart in sorrow (who sustains
His servants, when the deepest darkness reigns,
And help seems far away, each cistern dry)
Oh! then, how sweet, to cast, in faith, the eye
Upward, and say, “Upon a shoreless sea,
“No other hope! the heavens my canopy!
“My Father! I commit myself to thee!”
Jacob, from rugged stones, that round him lay,
The pillow made. And now, the last faint ray
Sunk from the west, as, stretch'd upon the ground,
The wanderer slumber sought, and slumber found.

Tho' to the visual eye no forms appear,
Angels of God! Messiah's self, was near!
Upon the outstretch'd pilgrim visions rest!
He views the heavens expand, in splendors drest!

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Behold! A Ladder, like a golden chain,
Pierces the sky, and rests upon the plain,
Whilst Angels come and go, a Glorious Train!
The Lord, to Jacob cries. “My hand, thy stay!
“I will preserve thee, on thy weary way.
“I am the God of Abraham! the Guide
“Of Isaac, e'en thy Sire! In me confide,
“And I, 'till death, will all thy wants supply.
“Where thou, this hour, in slumber deep, dost lie,
“I will a nation raise to call thee, Sire,
“Whose reign shall last, till earth and time expire.
“The west, the east, the north, thy sons shall see!
“Even, as the dust of earth, thy seed shall be,
“And all earth's familes be bless'd in thee!”

The orient glows! From slumber, Jacob springs!
He looks about for Angel Form, and wings!
“Where are ye?” he exclaim'd. And now he feels
Terror, that o'er his inmost spirit steals.
“How dreadful is this place!” he cried. “My frame
“Trembles! I still behold the augel flame!
“Visions, Jehovah, e'en to me, hath given!
“This is the house of God, the gate of Heaven!”

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He said, and, of the stones that round him lie
The Altar rears. Ah! hear the wanderer cry,
“Regard my Vow, Oh! thou, my God! my Guide!
“Friendless, if thou wilt for my wants provide,
“And keep me in the way wherein I go,
“And give me bread to eat (the child of woe!)
“And raiment to put on, and let me see
“Some portion of this world's prosperity,
“And shine upon my soul, and, in the hour
“Thou seest best, by thine Almighty Power,
“Yet, once again, Oh! thought, to fancy sweet!
“Bring to his Father's house, the pilgrim's feet,
“Then, thou shalt be my God. I ask alone
“For food and raiment. If I more should own,
“Thy bounty, whatsoe'er the blessing be,
“The tenth I consecrate this hour, to thee!”
Whilst yet, again, his heart the vow proclaim'd,
He pour'd the oil, the place he Bethel named!
Then, kneeling, pray'd beside the altar rude,
And, calm in faith, once more, his way pursued.

Now, toward the east, the wanderer, Jacob, past,
While oft, the back ward glance, he stopp'd, to cast

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Toward Beersheba; oft thought of friends and home,
And wept to think that he was forced to roam.
From place, to place, whilst every heart he met
Seem'd happy, or its sorrow to forget,
He, shelterless, a stranger, and forlorn,
Appear'd, alone, for grief and anguish born.
A field he views, with sheep thick scatter'd o'er;
A prince's substance! when (not seen before)
A Well appears. The shepherds, gathering round,
Water their flocks; and now the mouth have bound
With the huge stone, that guards so rare a prize.
Jacob advances toward them, and thus cries.
“Brethren! whence be ye?” They (their sheep among)
Answer'd, “To Haran, we do all belong.”
“Know you of Laban, Bethuel's Son?” he said.
“We know him,” they replied and bow'd the head.
“And is he well?” spake Jacob. “He is well.”
The shepherds cried. “His flocks, all flocks excel,
“These are they; and, with sheep, her tender care,
“Rachel is now at hand, his Daughter, fair.
“Behold her! Where yon cedars proud appear,
“Driving her charge, the Damsel now draws near.”
The Stranger's looks, the sudden joy, proclaim!
And when to the appointed Well she came,

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Jacob, awhile, the beauteous Maiden, eyed,
Lovely as morning in her rosy pride!
Approaching slow, with the declining head,
(His accent faltering,) courteous, thus he said,
“The stone let me remove, to thee allied,
“And water, for thy fleecy charge, provide.”
The blushing Maiden wonder'd as he spake;
“And who art thou?” she answer'd. “Some mistake,
“Haply, is thine. Thou art not Isaac's Son?”
The currrent, thro' his heart, doth swifter run.
“I am!” he cried; “and thou, to me, art dear,
“Oh! Rachel!” On the Damsel's cheek, a tear
Shone, and she answer'd, with the spirit mild,
“O'erjoy'd, my Sire will welcome Isaac's child;
“I, glad, the way will shew thee.” Jacob's eye
Dwelt on the ground. And now the tremulous sigh
Betray'd some secret conflict. Each, with each,
Past silent, till they Laban's dwelling reach.
Near to the door. the Maiden hasten'd on.
Her eye with the unwonted joyance shone.
Her Sire she sees! She cries, “By Isaac sent,
“Jacob, thy Sister's Son, draws nigh our tent.”
Laban, with wonder heard, half prone to doubt;
Then, joyful and impatient, hurried out

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To seek the Stranger. Thus he cried, “My Son!
“Welcome to Laban's dwelling. Time hath run,
“Scarce knowing how, upon his swift career,
“Since once, as now to thee, with voice sincere,
“I sped, to greet, th' good old Man, who came,
“Thy Mother, to entreat, in Isaac's name;
“As he was welcome, welcome thou the same!”

Jacob now enters, smiling faces round.
Greetings, alike, from young and old, he found.
So glad were all Rebecca's Son to see,
It seem'd the region sweet of ecstasy!

Oh! when the morning, in her vesture gay,
Look'd in his face, as on his couch he lay;
When, rising, he beheld the scene around,
Each object fair, and soothing every sound;
The low of cattle (music to his ear!)
With the sweet bleat of lambs, commingling, near;
And busy fancy, calling to her aid,
Smiles on all sides, in witching grace, array'd,
Whilst every trouble, on time's ruffled stream,
Was half remember'd, like the morning dream,
He scarce believed, such joy to him was given,
That he was still on earth, and not in heaven.

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Days, months, and years, pass on. The lovely Maid,
Rachel, no more the virgin garb array'd.
Leah, and she, to Jacob, now, are bound,
The wedded wives, whilst children rise around.
Days, months, and years, pass on, and many a care,
Hardship, and wrong, was Jacob forced to bear.
The sunny gleams that once illumed his way,
(When all was promise, when, in bright array,
Joy, after joy, seem'd endless, and, his sky,
Without a cloud, without a tear, his eye)
Have vanish'd, and he finds, with growing age,
That life, indeed, is one long pilgrimage.

His flocks and herds around, in musing mood,
Jacob, the backward stream of time pursued.
The hour of darkness reigns! and, faith, her flight,
Sustains not: like the falling mists of night,
He hangs on earth, whilst fears his soul affright.
Sudden, a beam shone round! th' o'erwhelming glare!
The terrible magnificence was there!
Bright Angels, in the midst! The vision fades!
Silence, intense, all nature round, pervades!
Jacob, confirm'd in faith, still trembling, cried,
“What shadows, us, from th' Heavenly World, divide!

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“This is God's Host!” With spirit rais'd on high,
Ardent he looks, nor fear'd that hour to die,
Such glories on his aching eye-ball lie!
A voice is heard! (no beaming terrors round.)
“Fear not! for thou, with me, hast favour found.
“Rise! To thy Father, to thy kindred, go!
“I will be with thee. Wandering, to and fro,
“Thro' all life's varied ways, in me confide!
“Thou hast, in every hour, an Unseen Guide!
“I heard thy vow at Bethel! I was near!
“I saw thee pour the oil! I mark'd thy tear,
“And at my voice, speed on, nor danger fear!”
Jacob looks round. The voice hath past away!
He bows his head, the reverence deep to pay,
Then seeks his tent (whilst prayers to Heaven ascend)
Full of the rapturous thoughts of home and friend.

“My Wives,” he cried to Rachel, Leah, near,
“I have the secret word, your hearts to cheer.
“God, even God, hath in the vision said,
“I mark thy grief! No longer droop thy head!
“Rise! To thy Father's house return again!
“And I will smooth thy path, thy steps sustain!'
“From Beersheba, I came. I had, before,
“The longing wish to visit it once more,

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“But now, my love hath risen to ardour high,
“Once more to fix my gaze on Canaan's sky.
“Sweet is thy every haunt, my Native Place!
“Thy plains, thy rocks, thy hills, are cloth'd with grace!
“Thy valleys, joy, with every breath, impart!
“Thy very trees have power to touch the heart!
“The mountain stream, that near our dwelling wound,
“Lives in my sight, with bank and wild-wood crown'd!
“There is a balm, a fragrance, in thy air!
“Thy corn is richer, and thy fruit more fair!
“And all the choicest scenes that here I hail,
“Vanish before my home! my native vale!
“I will with you, my treasure and my pride!
“Once more, upon earth's choicest spot, abide!
“Encouraged by the vision from the sky,
“I must behold my Father's house, or die!
“My Father! Ah! my thoughts, to fear, awake!
“Few years, do havoc with our kindred make!
“No Father may survive a Son to see!
“My Mother! Oh! my Mother! dear to me!
“Thou dost not live, to view thy child's return!
“Cold lies thy head, and I am left to mourn!”
“Weep not! my Spouse! my Jacob!” Leah said,
Whilst Rachel mark'd his grief, and hung her head,

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Then sigh'd, and gently whisper'd in his ear—
“Can He do wrong? Jehovah, whom we fear?”

Roused by the sudden danger, Jacob cried,
“The wall of brass doth me, from joy, divide!
“Ah! Laban! At the thought, my heart doth bleed!
“He will, with every cross, my way impede!
“Hear me! Prepare whate'er you call your own.
“When evening on her farthest course is flown,
“And all is silent, I will gather round
“My flocks and herds, and, at the signal sound,
“Pass on to Edom. Haply, 'till too late,
“Laban may miss us not, or, gratulate
“His heart unkind, that, I have left him, here,
“Freely, this wide domain, no rival near.”

The journey is begun. With earnest toil,
Onward they move to Seir's fruitful soil,
And as the hills, succeeding, slow they past,
Jacob oft stopp'd. The backward glance he cast,
To see if danger crowded on his rear;
And now the Mounts of Gilead dim appear.

The Sons to Laban haste. “Know you,” they said,
“That Jacob, with his Wives, his all, is fled?”

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“Up, for pursuit!” cried Laban. “I will feel
“No pity! I will now my wrath reveal!”

Laban, surrounded by the armed band,
Speeds after Jacob to the far-off land.
At night, behold! to Laban's eye, appear'd
The vision! As he steadfast look'd, he fear'd!
He saw an Angel Form, who (clothed in light!)
Thus spake. “In dreams, I visit thee this night.
“Thy Son! my Servant! hurt not! Jacob spare!
“Or thou, this hand, in thunders clothed, shalt bear!”

On Gilead's mount, hath Laban, Jacob found.
Thus he began. “Oh! treacherous and unsound!
“Why hast thou borne my Daughters thus away,
“As tho' they captives were? and, in dismay,
“Left me, the desolate! Upon the road,
“The vision warn'd, or, to thy past abode,
“Faithless as ocean! and to honour blind!
“Thou back hadst gone, with hooting scorn behind!”

Jacob replied. “Forbear that wrathful eye!
“What is my crime, and what my perfidy?
“I knew that thou, checking my warm desire,
“Would'st never let me seek my reverenced Sire.

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“Encourag'd by the heavenly voice, and dread,
“For home, my spirit sigh'd, by night I fled.
“These twenty years have I been faithful found.
“Yet hast thou oft, and sorely, on me frown'd.
“Thou didst, unmindful of my low degree,
“Thy loss, whate'er the cause, require of me.
“The drought consumed me, on the hills, by day,
“The frost, by night, with slumber far away.
“In wantonness of power, to me estranged,
“Ten times, thou know'st, hast thou my wages chang'd;
“And had not God, in every strait, my trust,
“Been with me, in this hour, thy soul, unjust,
“Had stripp'd me, sent me, heedless of my suit,
“Back to my Father's dwelling destitute.”

Laban, enraged, replied. “What wealth is thine?
“These children are my children! All is mine!
“Wives, flocks, and herds! My Daughters here I see!
“And nakedness alone belongs to thee!”
Whilst anger the impetuous utterance drown'd,
Rachel began, with voice of winning sound,
“My Father! be thou sooth'd! To peace incline!
“Leah, affection feels, and love is mine!
“Oh! let us pass to Beersheba, the place
“Which still, in Jacob's eye, hath many a grace:

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“(The home revered, where first he breath'd the air)
“And I will bless thee. In my every prayer,
“Thou shalt be first and last, my Father, dear!”
Laban the struggle felt, when thus he said.
“Thou hast been good to me. Upon thy head,
“Rachel! may blessings rest. Even for your sake,
“My Daughters! I will not to vengeance wake.”

Jacob thus spake, with alter'd accent kind,
“Let not intemperate wrath, o'erwhelm thy mind.
“If I have err'd, my Sire, in word, or deed,
“Forgive the trespass! here I pardon plead!”
Laban, subdued in spirit, thus replied.
“Jacob, my Son! we will no longer chide!
“The covenant sincere we now will make!
“Thou art no alien, for my children's sake!
“Now hear me! If one spark of love remain,
“Cherish and prize my Daughters! I, in vain,
“Long shall their loss deplore, and comfort find,
“Only, as thou art faithful, thou art kind.”

The mutual vow is past; and, now, his feet
('Mid promises, and prayers, and wishes sweet)
Laban, toward home directs, whilst Jacob still
Slow thro' the vale winds on, or o'er the hill;

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Each day, his heart o'erflowing with delight,
As forms, once known, arise upon his sight:
But when Old Lebanon! at first appears,
And to the sky his regal summit rears,
Region oft traversed in his earlier years!
His spirit faints, his eye dissolves in tears.

Ah! Jordan now he sees! He calls to mind
The hour of gloom! the bleak and wintry wind!
Which by this stream, he knew in days long past,
When, friendless, destitute, himself he cast
On the cold ground, whilst anguish prest him down,
And God, and Man, and Nature, seem'd to frown!
And, now, he cried, “Not with this Staff alone
“Do I return! Two bands, and large, I own!
“Jehovah's power is here! His hand I see!
“He gave me wealth, and I will bend my knee!”
He said, and rear'd the Altar, by the side
Of Jordan, flowing on, in all his pride;
And there, to God, with prostrate heart, he cried.

Now, terror, flood-like, bursts upon his mind!
He thinks on Esau's vow! his vengeance blind!
“Haste!” to his herdsmen near, aloud he spake.
“To Esau, e'en my Brother. With you take

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“My blessing and kind greetings. Let him know
“That Heaven hath prosper'd me—my hands o'erflow
“With shepherd's wealth, whilst children round me rise,
“And say, his favour most, on earth, I prize.”

They now return. Jacob, with hurrying feet,
Speeds, whilst his heart beats hard, the men to meet.
“What news?” he cried. The men, with looks of care,
Answer'd, “No tidings of delight we bear.
“Thy Brother comes, with twice two hundred men,
“Arm'd, as for war! The Lion, in his den,
“Hath fury, less than Esau! Not a word
“Thy Brother spake, but instant seized his sword,
“And, by this hour, he stands at Jabbok's ford!”

Jacob, with trembling knee, the tidings hears,
Whilst death, in all his ghastliest forms, appears!
“Haste!” loud he cried. “Divide our flocks and herds
“Into two equal bands! Regard my words!
“If Esau smite the first, the next, escape!
“Instant, your course to some near forest shape,
“Or cowering hill! Ah! No! I first will strive
“To keep some little spark of love alive!

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“Collect four droves of sheep, and goodly kine.
“Let them pass on. If Esau harm design,
“These presents may appease. The first shall say,
“Meeting my wrathful Brother, in his way,
“‘These Jacob sends to Esau, with kind greet.’
“The next, the same shall say, as him they meet.
“The third; the last, and, bending low, declare,
“Jacob himself is near, whose love we bear.”

The sheep, the kine, the camels, on have past.
The chilling mists of evening gather'd fast
Ere all, to rest, had gone; and, now, alone
Jacob, himself, upon the turf hath thrown,
When, in the depth of anguish, he began.
“God of my Fathers! I, a sinful man!
“Look up to thee, in this my sore distress.
“My crimes, my wanderings oft, I here confess.
“This hour, my deep unworthiness I own—
“Of the least mercy that thy hand hath shewn;
“But chiefly of that Truth, that Hope Divine,
“Which makes the Future still unclouded shine.
“Thou said'st, ‘Return, for mine is all the earth!
“Seek thou, once more, the country of thy birth!

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“To Canaan speed! My arm shall be thy guide!’
“Oh! In this hour, the covert safe, provide!
“My Brother hastes, revenge upon his brow,
“Whilst on him rests, enraged, the murderer's vow.
“The Father he will slay, with fury wild!
“The Mother! thought of dread! the tender child!
“Look down! Oh! soften thou the heart of steel!
“This hour, Oh! God! thyself, thy hand, reveal!”

He rises. To his sight a man appears.
The solitary place around—he fears!
He trembles, as the Stranger Form draws nigh!
And now they wrestle hard! The eastern sky,
With morn, just glimmers o'er the misty hill,
With gilded summit, yet, they wrestle still.
The Stranger said, “Forbear! We now must part!”
Jacob, in terror cried, “Say, who thou art!
“I will not cease my hold, tho' whelm'd in fear,
“Except, Oh! Form unknown, thou bless me here!
“Declare thy name!” His hand relaxes! Now!
Before an Angel! view the pleader bow,
Whilst, splendor, of ineffable degree,
He, with closed eye, o'erpower'd, forbears to see!

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The Angel spake! “I bless thee! On thy head,
“And on thy offspring when thou hence art fled,
“My smiles shall rest! The realms of light above,
“The home of happiness, the world of love,
“Who seeks, like thee, must wrestle for the prize
“And he who seeks shall find. Be thou the wise,
“And strive to reach the everlasting skies!”
The light hath vanish'd! Jacob looks around.
He nothing sees. The sun, in glory crown'd,
Rises! He cried, “I tremble at this place!
“For I have seen Jehovah, face to face!”

Upon the distant hill, in dread amaze,
Jacob beholds his Brother! whilst the blaze
Of weapon blends with th' sun's resplendent rays!
Fearful he speeds, and eager, to the train
Of wives and offspring, marching o'er the plain.
“Stop!” he exclaim'd. Two bands, he instant makes.
Leah, and all her Children, first, he takes.
He sends them on; now, at the last he placed
Rachel, with Joseph, and beside them paced,
Raising the prayer, that God, his only friend,
Would now, from peril, and from death defend.

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Esau draws near! Jacob, to earth, bent low.
He trembles! With affection's fervent glow,
(More lovely than the blush of morning light)
Esau prest on! The Stranger, with delight,
He seizes! He, in silence clasp'd him round!
And Brother, grasping Brother, now is found!
Jacob loud wept! The sympathetic tear
From Esau burst, as, pressing him more near,
He cried, “My Brother! With no sky o'ercast,
“Heaven bless thee! All my anger now is past!
“And we will truly love, while life doth last!”

And Esau took to wife Judith, the daughter of Beeri, the Hittite, which was a grief of mind to Isaac and Rebecca. Gen. chap. xxvi. ver. 34,35.

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BOOK XII.

Joseph and his Brethren.

Time rolls along. The righteous Abraham dies,
Isaac, arising, now his place supplies,
Till, in his turn, on earth he rests his head,
Whilst one sustains the promise in his stead;
Yet, firm of faith, he gently breathes his last,
Fearing no foe, man's stedfast hope to blast;
Still knowing, tho' with many a care opprest,
“That, in his seed, all nations should be blest.”
From Jacob, now, a race imperial springs,
Progenitors of prophets, priests, and kings,
Of families unnumber'd, branching wide,
Countless as sands by roaring ocean's side;

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With still, in every age, Messiah near
Guiding the tide of things, His Church to rear.

Oh! fruit of sin, deep-rooted in the heart,
Ten Brethren join to act the murderer's part;
But He, whose ways our highest thoughts transcend,
Proves, in his need, the friendless Brother's friend.
The Angel of the Covenant (whose eye
Views the whole sweep of deeds below the sky!)
Mark'd wretched men combine, with one consent,
To slay the pleading, helpless, Innocent!
Down in the pit (regardless of his prayer)
They Joseph cast, forlorn, to perish there,
And, hurried on by anger andd isdain,
To cheat their Sire, with blood his garment stain.
Judah exclaim'd, “My soul dissolves away!
“Why should we steel our hearts, our Brother slay?
“Mark'd you that voice, faint heard, that ‘Mercy!’ said.
“Are we all stones! To nature quench'd and dead?
“Tho' Lions dared to stem my spirit free,
“A Brother's blood shall never rest on me!”
“Neither on me!” “Nor me!” “Nor me!” they cry,
Back to the pit, with winged speed they fly!
They stoop, they draw him up, they shed the tear,
And but for envy, still had held him dear.

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Out, on the distant hill, in long array,
A Company of Merchants pass that way,
(Not chance directed!) Judah cried aloud.
“Why on ourminds should thoughts conflicting crowd.
“Let Joseph (to confound the Dreamer bold)
“A Slave, be barter'd for the Midian's Gold.
“Then will we see if round his Royal Sheaf
“His Brethren we shall bend, and ask relief!
“Sun, moon, and stars, his towering boast redeem!
“Vain youth, and proud, the monarch of a dream,
“Sent, from this moment, down oblivion's stream.”
They sell their Brother! On, the Merchants speed,
Binding the Lad, whose tears for pity plead.
And now, their Slave, to distant lands, they bore,
But still where Providence had gone before.

Thousands must suffer and to death descend,
A dearth must rise, a famine far extend;
Whilst many a tribe, in one promiscuous heap,
Are swept from earth, with none their loss to weep.
That Family on whom the Promise rests,
A cloud defends, a sanctity invests,
And tho' a thousand dangers roam around,
They stand secure whom Angel guards surround.

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Years pass along, and now the famine wide
Like the wide ocean, spreads on every side.
“Go!” cried the aged Jacob. “From their bed,
“Your babes look up and pining ask for bread!
“One Son is slain! and (fiercer war to wage)
“Famine advances, with the whirlwind's rage!
“Egypt abounds. Haste and obtain supply,
“Or soon the child will sink, the Father die!”

The Brethren load their beasts, and onward haste
O'er the wide wilderness, and sandy waste;
When, lo! they Dothan reach, where once they sold
Joseph, their Brother, for the Midian's Gold!
None spake. All look'd, and sigh'd, and past the place
With the distemper'd mind, and hurrying pace.
They see the blood (that every conscience smote!)
With which they dyed his many-colour'd coat,
Still visible upon the stony plain,
Not to be washed away by winter's rain!
But there was yet within a deeper stain!
They loved him not in that his hour of need,
They heard unmoved his tongue for pity plead,
And now sustain the load of crushing woe,
Remorse! which he who feels alone can know.

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Each own'd his crime, unheard, and when too late!
Dropt the warm tear o'er Joseph's hapless fate.

Oh! what the depth of that Almighty Power
Who bids the clouds disperse, the concave lower;
Whose ways are veil'd in ten-fold night profound,
Where faith may pierce, but reason still is drown'd!—
Here one bursts forth, in vesture fair array'd,
Form'd (to the eye) for sun-shine, not for shade;
To act upon time's stage, the generous part,
Worth, and each good, luxuriant in his heart,
And buoying up the dream, with promise proud,
Of seas all smooth and skies without a cloud,
Till (with the breath of God, whose right we own)
He droops, and passes on to worlds unknown.
And here the foe of Heaven, a worm of earth!
Evil pursues, triumphant, from his birth,
Lifts high his head, each warning voice defies,
And, in his folly, prospers, till he dies,
Whilst here the favour'd Child, opprest with care,
Learns, from his youth, a father's hand to bear;
Perplex'd and cross'd in every way he takes,
O'er whom, the chilling wind, the billow breaks:
Contending long with ills, a bitter doom,
Haply he sinks, untimely, to the tomb,

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Without a friend to guide, a hope to cheer,
Wormwood and gall, his only portion here.
But if no change, on earth, should mark the scene,
And clothe the wintry spray, with summer's green,
Is there not still an hour, advancing fast,
When He, whose footsteps, mists have overcast,
(Whose path is in the deep, whose thoughts and ways
The finite eye, elude) inwrapt in blaze
Shall pour conviction (faith exchanged for sight)
That all which Wisdom did was just and right?
Yet, often, here, the parting clouds display
Some light, the pledge of that refulgent day,
When darkness, from all eyes, shall pass away.

Joseph, the friendless stranger, by the hand
Of Brethren sold! toils o'er the sultry sand;
Forced, as a slave, to leave, for want and woe,
A Home, a Father—all he loved below!
To Egypt borne along, no earthly friend
Stops to inquire his wants, or aid extend;
Yet, out of darkness, light serenely shines,
He trusts in God! Peaceful his head reclines
Upon his nightly pillow, and he feels
That faith in Heaven, the bruised spirit heals.

202

Can that be Joseph! (he who nightly paid
The grateful prayer to Him who all things made,
Who ever with the earliest sun arose
And own'd the Power from whom all goodness flows)
Now in the Prison cast!—that living tomb!
Amid the vile of earth, with death his doom?
There Joseph lingers! Enviable state!
On him Messiah smiles, and Angels wait!
Rather than purchase withering flowers below,
Rather than make, dread thought! his God, his foe,
He turns aside, while beckoning Sin allures,
And patiently the dungeon's depth endures!

Who, but to mourn, to Satan's wiles consents?
Who ever serves his Maker, and repents?
The prison door, the grate, the clanking chain,
Bends not his spirit, makes his refuge vain.
Imprest with that high character he bore,
Servant of God—his thoughts unfetter'd soar
From instruments, to His presiding sway,
Who, in the storm, the tempest, hath his way,
And when he will can darkness turn to day.
Calmly he waits deliverance from His hand
Whose guardian care extends to every land;

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And till th' appointed hour arrives, displays,
Alike in all his hopes, his words, his ways,
Truth, honour, uprightness, the soul that still
Makes its aspiring point, his Maker's will.
The Jailer felt a power in Joseph's mind,
The dignity of virtue, and resign'd
Into his hands, the trust, that only flows
From worth, long tried, which radiance round it throws.

“Expand the prison doors!”—Two men of fame,
Servants of Pharaoh, reach the house of shame,
The Butler and the Baker! There they wait,
O'erwhelm'd with trembling dread, to hear their fate.
Disturbing dreams molest them thro' the night.
They rise, they sleep again; yet, new affright
Still haunts their pillow. As the sun arose,
To Joseph both declared their midnight woes.
The Hebrew heard. (Dawn of a brighter day!)
The secret impulse taught him thus to say.
“Thou shalt be slain! whilst, for the Butler, wait,
“Freedom, and all his honourable state!”
The last received the tidings, joy-opprest,
When Joseph, in his ear, these words addrest.

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“I, from a distant land, was stolen and sold!
“I have a home which I would fain behold!
“I have a Sire, whose race is almost run,
“Pining to see his oft-remember'd Son.
“When thou to power shalt rise, from bondage free,
“If feeling move thy heart, Oh, think of me!”
“I will!” the Butler vow'd. “No promise vain!
“If I am freed, thou soon shalt burst thy chain.”

Suspended from a tree, the Baker dies.
And now a herald hurries near, and cries,
“The Butler, Pharaoh pardons! Let me bring
“Once more the favour'd servant to his King!”
He hastens forth, with shout and tumult round,
And by the Monarch's side, again is found.

Who, in the giddy whirl of honours thrown,
Can stop to soothe the pang, to hear the groan?
Some such may be, whose eyes with pity swim,
But Pharaoh's Butler proud was not like him.
He drank of pleasure, in its wild excess,
Nor cast one thought on distant Wretchedness.

What means that fearful lower on Pharaoh's face?
Who now shall head-long sink into disgrace?

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What child of pamper'd fortune and renown,
Instant shall fall before a Monarch's frown?

“Call hither, from all parts,” the King exclaim'd,
“My high Magicians, men for wisdom famed!”
The sages crowd around, when Pharaoh cried,
“Whoe'er resolves my dream, shall by my side
“Arise to honours. Tell me, and aright,
“What mean these secret visions of the night?”
All, silent, stand, when one, a Father, spake,
“Let not my Lord the King, to wrath awake.
“We, with bold flight, might soar on fancy's wings
“Yet, nothing know of these mysterious things.”

The Butler slow approach'd, and bending said,
“As on the prison floor I lean'd my head,
“(Thy Baker by my side) we dream'd a dream;
“When one, a Hebrew Youth, in our extreme,
“Told true the vision deep. Declare, Oh, King!
“And I, to thee, the gifted Man will bring.”

Joseph, before the Lord of Egypt stands.
The Monarch thus. “Now may'st thou break thy bands,

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“And rise to honour. Fearful dreams are mine,
“Which these Magicians vainly would divine.
“In midnight's solemn hour, I saw arise
“Seven tall, lean beasts; and now before my eyes,
“Seven kine, well-favour'd stand. The lean draw near,
“And slay and eat the kine that good appear.
“Again I slept. Seven ears of corn I saw,
“(That from one parent root their nurture draw)
“Stately arise, each bending to the wind;
“When, lo! seven ears before my passive mind,
“Thin, and unsightly, rise. By unknown power,
“These last, the ears that stately wave, devour.
“Scarce (with the morn) the image fades away.
“Some meaning lies conceal'd. Oh! Hebrew, say!
“What joy the vision speaks, or what dismay.”

Joseph his heart uprais'd in secret prayer.
He feels a power the secret to declare!
Thus he replied. “Oh! King, the meaning hear!
“Seven years of plenty, earth, erelong, will cheer,
“When bounteous nature shall her wealth bestow,
“And sorrow's sons redeem from want and woe.
“But, Oh! regard my voice. Seven years shall then
“Visit with drought and dearth the sons of men.

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“Famine shall stalk around, and, in her train,
“Pale pestilence appear, and anguish reign.
“That thou the wasting tempest may'st defeat,
“Choose thou some man of foresight, wise, discreet,
“Who fears the Lord, and will, in time, provide
“For that destructive hour, that ruin wide.”

The King exclaim'd. “In wisdom 'bove compare!
“Thou, Hebrew Youth! shalt for the storm prepare.
“The Spirit of the Lord on thee doth rest:
“Thou, in the royal robe, shalt hence be drest:
“My servants shall be thine, and, next to me,
“On Joseph, all shall wait, and bend the knee.
“The Garner rear, ere corn in Egypt fails,
“That we may live, while famine round prevails.”

The years of plenty come. Abundance reigns,
Fruits crown the hills, and plenty hides the plains,
And such munificence of earthly store,
Increasing still, no eye had seen before.
Joseph forbears to count his heaps of grain,
Like one, the sand, on Lybia's burning plain.

Ah! now the sun in lengthen'd fervour shines!
The blossom fails, the shrub, the tree, declines;

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The mildew blasts the ears as they arise
And all the brown, lank herbage droops and dies,
One summer passes by, without a spring.
The Ibis sails, aloft, on languid wing.
The riv'let, that was wont the meads to lave,
While palm-trees, near, in deep luxuriance wave,
Now noiseless creeps along, or shews its bed
With the dry stone, and wither'd flags o'erspread.
No joy, as once, illumes the traveller's eyes;
Each passes each, and shakes his head, and sighs,
And onward looks, with anxious heart forlorn,
For the next spring the valleys to adorn;
The spring arrives, but still no cloud is seen!
No flowers delight the eye, no olives green!—
Unnoticed, these, like idle dreams, are fled!
Each thinks of Corn, and asks alone for Bread!

Joseph, the Friend of Pharaoh, now sustains
Power, great in Egypt, where he second reigns;
And with a monarch's might and glory crown'd,
Dispenses corn to starving thousands round.

What sight is that? A tumult thro' the place
Wakes the inquiring look in every face.

209

Impatient hosts forget their deep distress,
And (for a moment turning) mark the dress,
Commanding attitude, and ruddy cheek
Of the small Band of Strangers, thus, who speak.
“Great Ruler of the land! Egypt's high Lord!
“Pity thy starving Servants! Help afford!
“O'er dreary plains, and desert sands, wide-spread;
“Thro' many a weary mile, we come for bread.
“Oh! spurn us not! Oh! grant some small supply,
“And for our aged Father, lest he die.”

Joseph look'd earnest. Thoughts conflicting crowd!
He saw, he knew his Brethren as they bow'd!
Yet tho' he heard them, sad, their lot bewail,
He frown'd on Brethren whom he long'd to hail.
“Whence and what are you?” thus he sternly cried!
“Vain would you seek the purpose false to hide!
“I know you, thro' your veil of rustic dress,
“As spies you come, to learn our nakedness!”
The Brethren answer'd. “We are not the vile!
“No spies are we, nor are our objects guile!
“We are true men, for food that humbly pray,
“Sons of one Sire, who sojourns far away.

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“Twelve Brethren once we were. One now is dead!
“One dwells at home, and we all starve for bread!”
Joseph replied, still sterner than before,
“Ye all are spies, and not for bread implore;
“You hither come, no sacks with corn to fill,
“But with our foes to league and work us ill!
“By Pharaoh's life, I swear. Mark you and heed!
“Unless your youngest Brother hither speed,
“Ye shall not go! Send one and bring him near,
“For till he come, slavery shall hold you here!
“Ye hesitate! To prison haste, at hand!
“Ye all are spies and hostile to our land.”

Opprest with terror, hanging low their head,
As captives now the prison floor they tread.
On the next morn, once more they all appear,
Before the imperious Ruler, pale with fear.
Joseph began. “'Tho' spies suspected still,
“Mine is the lenient purpose. Know my will!
“Ten Brethren as ye are, one here shall stay!
“The rest, with corn supplied, pursue your way;
“But never shall the captive's sufferings cease,
“Until your Brother haste and him release!”

211

These words, severe as is the wintry storm,
Th' Interpreter pronounced with awful form,
Sending dismay into the Brethrens' heart!
When Judah, standing with the rest apart
Thus, in his bitterness of soul, began,
Whilst down his pallid cheek, tears glist'ning ran!

“Oh, Brethren! who shall tell our depth of woe!
“Whate'er our hands perform, where'er we go,
“Our Brother's blood pursuës us! For his sake
“Still o'er our head the waves of trouble break!
“Cold was our heart upon that fatal morn!
“Oh! we were base his lifted hand to scorn!
“We heard him pity plead, and then inquire,
“Whether we call'd not one our Common Sire,
“Whilst we, with iron spirits, still maintain'd
“Hate, and the anguish of his soul disdain'd.”
Reuben replied. “Did not I fervent pray
“That you would not our Brother sell or slay?
“‘Sin not against the Child!’ I weeping said.
“Anguish intense we feel, for he is dead!
“Our wrongs have sent him to his clay-cold bed!”

Joseph his Brethren heard, their converse deep,
Their mutual griefs, and turn'd aside to weep!

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Recovering from the tear that would descend
He thus began, whilst round his Brethren bend.
“One here shall stay, the rest with corn supplied
“Homeward may haste, o'er hill and valley wide;
“But till your Brother, at this place, appear,
“See not my face, and for this captive fear!”
Thus having said, and looking wrathful round,
Before their face, Simeon he seiz'd, and bound!
Bending, and trembling, now, they slow retire,
When Joseph cried. “Ye spake of one your Sire,
“A reverend Man, pining at home for bread;
“For suffering age, I have a tear to shed.
“Take the best corn that Egypt can supply,
“And, speed! Oh, speed! before your Father die!”

The Brethren gone, their hearts, with grief opprest,
His Servant (near him) Joseph thus addrest.
“Grant all they want. Fill every sack with grain,
“And within, each, his money place again.”
Homeward, from Egypt, now the Brethren hied,
When one, for provender, his sack untied,
He sees his money! After long suspense,
All deem it wise, proving their innocence,
To Egpyt back to haste, and there to pay
The gold once more, unknowing, borne away;

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But ere they turn'd, they thought, with terror drown'd,
Of that remorseless Man, who Simeon bound;
When, glad to 'scape th' indignant frown, the chain,
Homeward they still their weary course maintain.

Jacob, their absence, mourns, and oft, afraid,
Thro' fields, where last he saw them, pensive stray'd;
To the far distant hill oft cast his eye,
Reverting quick, and heaved the bitter sigh.
He thought of one, by beasts untimely slain,
And doubly mourn'd his need of Egypt's grain.
Pondering on dangers, which, in order dread,
Before his fancy moved, he hung his head.
Fearing to look, he cast despairing glance
Once more, afar, when, lo! his Sons advance!
Hastening, they cried.

“He who o'er Egypt reigns,
“Hath roughly treated us, and entertains
“Hard thoughts of our designs. With jealous mind,
“Thy Son, thy Simeon, he hath kept behind.
“We told him we were Brethren, good and true,
“Not doubtful men; that we our breath first drew
“In Canaan's land; twelve Sons of thee our Sire,
“One yet at home, one dead. With fearful ire,

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“He vow'd, that if our Brother came not there,
“The evil view was ours, that spies we were!”
Thus having said, they spread their corn around,
When each, with speechless fear, his money found!

Jacob, with hands uplifted, thus began.
“I am bereaved, a miserable man.
“When Simeon is not here, and Joseph slain,
“Shall I and Benjamin be rent in twain?
“These things are all against me! O'er my head
“Care follows care, I think upon the dead,
“And half desire, whilst wave succeeds to wave,
“The tomb's calm rest, the silence of the grave!”
When Reuben thus, while tears bedew'd his eye.
“Grieve not, my Father! Cease that rending sigh!
“If, to thy arms, to bless thy aged sight,
“Thy darling Child I bring not, my delight,
“My Sons unpitying slay! yea, from thee spurn
“E'en me, forever, should he not return!”
Jacob (the blood fast-flowing thro' his veins)
Indignant cried, “My heart thy word disdains!
“My Son shall not to Egypt take his way;
“You still for Benjamin may plead and pray,
“And thus your poor, and aged Father grieve,
“But Rachel's Son, his Sire, shall never leave!”

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BOOK XIII.

Joseph and his Brethren.

The famine waxes sore! 'Mid growing fea
The corn decreases, whilst no help is near.
Once more the Brethren long for Egypt's bread,
On Simeon too they think, and droop their head.
“Go!” cried the Sire. “Obtain some fresh supply.
“Once more to Egypt hasten, lest we die!”

Judah replied. “The Ruler of the land,
“With fearful frown, gave us his stern command,
“No more his face, or Egypt's land to see,
“Whate'er our wants, whate'er our misery,
“Save with our Brother. Sorrow weighs us down!
“We cannot meet again his fearful frown.

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“His wrath so burns, his words so fiercely flow,
“Except with Benjamin, we will not go!”
“Why did you tell,” cried Jacob, weeping, wild,
“That you a Brother had, and I a Child!”
Judah thus said. “He ask'd us of our state,
“And if our Father lived. With wonder great,
“We heard the Man inquire, if yet we had
“One Brother more. We thought upon this Lad,
“And truly told of Benjamin, thy care,
“Could we believe that he would want him there?
“Now trust in me. On every side is dread.
“Our little ones look up and ask for bread!
“And that we die not, we, and thou, and they,
“To me confide thy Benjamin this day!
“Oh, reverenced Sire, thy Son require of me,
“Restrain thy grief, I will his surety be!”
Jacob, in bitterness of grief, replied.
“If ye will have my Benjamin, my pride,
“Reuben! to thee, that treasure I resign;
“I will not see him go, nor yet repine!
“It is the will of Heaven! Take, in thy hand,
“Whate'er can soothe this Ruler of the Land;
“Our choicest fruits, with balm and spicery,
“Myrrh, honey, almonds. These, tho' poor they be,

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“Compose our simple store. Th' Egyptian, rude,
“Haply, with these may find his heart subdued.
“Take double money in your hands, and say,
“For what before we had, we willing pay;
“And take my Son! God prosper him and thee,
“May you from Egypt's Lord find clemency!
“And in some hour, not distant, may mine eye
“See Benjamin once more, or else I die!”

At Pharaoh's court, behold, the Brethren stand!
In pomp, and with a monarch's wide command,
Their Brother (still unknown) with awe they view,
And, lowly bending, yield the homage due.
Joseph survey'd them, striving to restrain
The gladness, full, that flow'd in every vein:
But one was there the homage prompt to give,
In whom once more his Mother seem'd to live!
Turning, to one, his Steward, he thus bespake.
“The feast prepare! The choicest viands take!
“Yon company this day, tho' strange it be,
“Shall at my table sit, and eat with me!”

The Man, the Strangers, leads, with wonder great,
'Mid gorgeous rooms and canopies of state!

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Trembling, they said. “This favour is our bane.
“Oh, woe! It is for that unpaid-for grain!
“This Prince, as we our Brother served of yore,
“Will send us all to bondage! Never more
“Shall we our home revisit! Slaves and sold,
“Never again shall we our Sire behold!”

Reuben, the Steward, with anxious look, addrest.
“Receive our money! Be thy wrath represt!
“Believe thy Servants! Nothing did we know
“Of that disastrous deed that brings us woe!
“When, at the inn, with no accusing mind,
“One sack we open'd, provender to find,
“And when at length we reach'd our Father's tent,
“To heighten our dismay, tho' innocent,
“Full in our face, our well-told gold we view!
“And here is all return'd, good weight and true!”
The Steward replied. “Let not your spirits grieve,
“I placed it there! From me that gift receive!
“That slender boon a greater good ensures.
“Fear not, your God is with you, peace be yours.”

What Man is that who comes with hurrying pace?
Lo! Simeon there! Joyful, they all embrace!

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Each with the ardent grasp, his Brother hails,
And drops the tear, while silence round prevails.
When Simeon, in soft whisper, rising higher,
Cried, “Doth my Father live! My precious Sire!”

Joseph advances! Now, with awe profound,
All yield obeysance, bending to the ground,
And stretching forth their presents. Joseph spake,
“I need them not. Again your offerings take.
“My favour you possess. How fares your old,
“Your reverenced Sire, of whom before you told?”
Thus they replied, whilst joys their bosom swell,
“Our Father still is living, still is well!”
All bow again in silence. Joseph's eye
On Benjamin is fix'd; for whom the sigh
Told, in no questionable shape, of yore,
That absence could not quench the love he bore!
“Is this your younger Brother?” mild, he said.
“Forbear to tremble thus! No evil dread!
“May all thy days in peaceful pleasure run,
“And God be gracious still to thee, my Son!”
The flood of feeling came, impetuous, deep,
And Joseph now retires, alone, to weep!

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The feast awaits. The Brethren side by side,
At Joseph's table sit, 'mid pomp and pride.
The golden vase, the sumptuous food was there,
Whilst chant, and melting music fill the air.
The Lord of Egypt sends the food around,
Whilst wonder and amaze the Brethren bound,
When, Benjamin, they saw, with studious care,
Honour'd with higher gifts and richer fare!
The feast is o'er, the cornets' notes subside,
When Joseph, with his Steward, retiring, cried,
“Fill every sack with Egypt's choicest grain,
“And into each, the price return again,
“But, unobserved, as a peculiar grace,
“My Goblet fair within the youngest's place.”

Joy in each heart, the Brethren forth retire
From Egypt's Lord; and now (to meet their Sire)
Again with plenteous grain, replenish'd, go
Whilst their light hearts with repture overflow.
In transport, Reuben utter'd. “Hush'd the storm!
“No threat'ning clouds our tranquil sky deform!
“We fear no rolling sands, no scorching blast,
“The terrors of the desert, all, are past!

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“We now shall see our Father's face once more,
“And cheer his spirit with this ample store!”

Oh, Man! what visions bright thou oft dost see,
When but a shadow parts distress and thee!
As thus the Brethren mutual joy declare
(Whilst each his load of pleasure scarce can bear)
A Herald hastening, harbinger of fear,
Exclaims, “Withhold!” and thunders in their ear,
“Pharaoh is wrong'd! Oh, ingrates base and vile!
“Hard to believe, a yet unheard-of guile!
“The Goblet prized by Egypt's mighty Lord,
“You have conceal'd, and death be your reward!”

When Reuben. “Heaven, on high, forbid the deed!
“To wrong thy Lord, we have, nor wish, nor need!
“The money which by chance we bore away,
“Say, did we not, uncall'd, the same repay?
“This deed of matchless guilt, whoe'er he be
“That thus hath done, consign'd to infamy,
“Yea e'en to death, let him be seized this hour;
“We give the base-born culprit to thy power!”
The Man replied, “I grant you what you crave.
“Whoe'er the Cup conceals, shall be my slave!

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“The rest, redeem'd from guilt, and free from dread,
“Homeward may haste, with blessings on their head.”

Thus speaking, all present their sacks of grain.
The Herald, first, the eldest searched in vain.
The second next; the third; and onward still;
But all was fair. With free spontaneous will,
Now Benjamin advances.—Can it be?
Oh! fearful sight! Oh! evil destiny!
The Cup is there. “Pass on,” the Herald spake.
“This is my slave, and him alone I take”

Reuben, distracted, wildly gazing, cried,
“Ere this had been, Oh! would that I had died!”
Back, from their course they hasten. As they came
Where Egypt's Lord appear'd, of fearful name!
Joseph in wrath began. “Offence unknown!
“Are these your thanks for all my kindness shewn!
“To wrong your benefactor, in the hour
“In which you shared his bounty, bless'd his power?”

Judah exclaim'd, perplex'd. “What shall I say,
“Oh, potent Prince! or how thy vengeance stay!
“God hath found out our past iniquity!
“(Tho' hid from man) one deed of crimson dye!

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“We all must stoop to thee, and in the chain
“Bondage provides, bewail our crime in vain.”
Joseph replied. “Not all to bondage sold,
“That were unjust. One man alone I hold,
“E'en him on whom the royal charge was found,
“With treble chains let him be instant bound!”

Judah, in anguish, answer'd, “Mighty Lord!
“Let me, to thee, address one humble word!
“Oh, suffer not thine anger thus to burn!
“Once more to kindness let thy heart return!
“Thou askedst us of our far-distant Sire;
“If we a Brother had, thou didst inquire:
“We answer'd that our Father years opprest;
“That he one Child of his old age possest,
“Who had, long since (now dead) an only Brother!
“Who had, long since, a fond and loving Mother!
“And now that they were gone, he seem'd more dear,
“Our Father's bond to earth, and ever near.
“Thou spak'st, ‘That Brother hither bring to me,
“Or never more my presence dare to see!’
“When now our corn was gone, our Father said,
“‘The ass, the money take! we pine for bread,
“And down once more to Egypt.’ We replied,
“‘Oh! reverenced Sire! do not thy Children chide!

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“Nor deem it evil thus our mind to know,
“Without thy Benjamin, we cannot go!’
“Our Father answer'd, ‘Joseph, woeful day!
“The savage beasts made him their hapless prey,
“And if you all your cruel power employ
“To strip me of this Son, my only joy!
“In whom my heart is bound, the Child alone
“Of her I loved, now to her death-bed gone,
“This evil shall, with an o'erwhelming wave,
“Bring my grey hairs with sorrow to the grave!’
“Now when our Sire beholds us, sore afraid,
“And not the Lad, for whom our vows were paid,
“We shall indeed, with an o'erwhelming wave,
“Bring his grey hairs with sorrow to the grave!
“Oh! let me drag the chain! Let me expire!
“But, spare my Brother! Spare my aged Sire!”

Joseph now, longing, fearing to begin,
Weeps as a child, his heart dissolved within.
“Go forth!” he cried, to all the Servants near,
When (faltering) thus he said. “Oh! cease your fear!
“I am your Brother!—Joseph, whom you sold!
“Shall I, my Father yet alive behold?—
“My Sire! My greatest treasure! shall I see
“Thy face once more, and clasp thine aged knee!”

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All look'd and trembled, when, with accent kind,
Joseph thus sooth'd his Brethrens' troubled mind,
“Ye sold me, but I fear'd my God's command,
“And he hath made me Lord o'er Egypt's land.
“Haste to my aged Father, still revered,
“(From time more loved, from absence more endear'd)
“Tell him I live, affection still retain,
“And long to see his reverend face again.
“Bid him to Egypt haste, and sojourn near,
“That I may cherish whom I hold so dear.
“Believe me, nor let doubt your bosoms fill,
“That I forgive you, prize you, love you still!
“Dread not delusive dreams, with pallid cheeks,
“Behold me! It is I! my mouth that speaks,
“Your Brother!” Having said, with spirit bow'd,
On Benjamin he fell, and wept aloud!
Then (in the stillness feeling loves) apart
Embraced them all, and prest them to his heart!

Whilst consternation, and the half-quench'd fear
Dwelt in their soul, and glisten'd thro' their tear,
Joseph his speech pursued. “To Canaan speed!
“Fetch up my Sire! The stuff no longer heed!

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“Mind not the choicest thing that heart allures:
“The good of Egypt, all I have, is yours!
“Food shall you take, and treasure amply told,
“That he may bless whom once his Brethren sold!”

And now the Brethren haste (with rich supply)
To seek their Father, gladness in their eye,
And if a pang arose to cloud the scene,
With hopes so bright with prospects so serene,
It sprang from the accusing voice within,
That told them of one self-unpardon'd sin.

To Jacob, lo! they haste! “Good news!” they cried.
“Lift up thy heart! Joy, in a copious tide,
“Shall make thy spirit glad, thy soul revive!
“Joseph, thy Son! thy Son! is yet alive!”

The aged Father heard, in wonder drown'd,
Clasping his hands, and pondering on the ground!
He spake not, whilst his Sons their words pursued.
“Joseph o'er Egypt reigns in plenitude!
“Next to great Pharaoh, power and majesty,
“With royal pomp are his, but, in his eye

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“Humility still dwells, and in his breast
“Affection, in her sweetest vesture drest!
“That thou wilt haste to Egypt's land he prays,
“That he may cheer, and comfort thy last days.
“Behold these camels!—this unmeasured fare!
“Behold these waggons sent to fetch thee there!
“Behold this treasure, gifts, and golden chains,
“The foretaste of the love that still remains!”

When Jacob knew that Joseph yet survived,
And saw the store, his heart once more revived.
“It is enough!” he cried. “A way despair!
“My hope, my Son, my Joseph, breathes the air!
“Tho' tottering now my limbs, and dim my eye,
“I will go down and see him ere I die!”

The dew is on the thorn, the sky is clear,
Jacob comes forth, with all his offspring near;
Some lead him gently on, some smooth the way,
Some watch his eyes, all filial love to pay;
Whilst, as they gaze upon his reverend form
Seeking, in peace, safe covert from the storm;
Mark, on the cheek that told, so late, his woe,
The rising smile, the sun's departing glow,

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Hope, blooming still, that, like the days of yore,
Whisper'd, and sweet, that joy was yet in store!
Upon the boisterous tide of pleasure thrown,
All, in a Father's feelings, lose their own!
Farewell! they shout, to famine and to fear,
And pour, to heaven, on high, the praise sincere.
Ah! now they leave, for Egypt's richer fare,
Canaan, the land of dearth, and wasting care;
Yet, tho' their hearts the weight of gladness bore,
And fancy's airy visions danced before,
Some searching sighs escaped, to nature, true,
When call'd, to bid their Home, a last adieu.
A softer robe of sadness clothed the scene,
The shrubs look'd gay, again, the valleys green;
The clear, rough brook, the woodland's near retreat,
Seem'd not, till now, so cool, the bower so sweet:
Fresh grace adorn'd each little hedge-row wild,
The very shed, with dwarf-flowers tufted, smiled:
Once more the olive bloom'd. The pendent vine
Call'd for the master's hand its branch to twine;
And for all objects (some not used to cheer)
A lingering love they felt with parting near:
But when the flocks, half conscious of distress,
Gazed on their masters, in dumb thoughtfulness;

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(Those that had scaped the famine, lank and lean,
The very shades of what they once had been;)
When, one by one, the cattle gather'd round
To watch their lords, on far-off journey bound;
The band—for ever rent, the interest warm,
That bound them long, thro' sun-shine and thro' storm;
A sympathy burst forth, 'till then unknown,
And Jacob stopp'd to weep, nor wept alone.

To Egypt now they come, and onward still
Press toward the far-seen city, like a hill,
Rising, whose palaces th' horizon fill.
A chariot hastens near, with proud attire.
Joseph descends! he clasps his aged Sire!
“My Father! Oh! my Father, art thou well!”
“My Son! My Son!” in broken accents fell!
A sacred silence marks the air around
Whilst the warm tear falls plenteous to the ground!

When the full heart its first great load resign'd,
And sober sadness stole across the mind,
Joseph began. “My Father, thou hast known
“Oft, care for me, and sent the secret groan;
“For all thy kindness, take my heart, my all!
“Whate'er I have is thine, a gift too small!”

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Jacob replied. “I deem'd my pleasures o'er,
“But, lo! the greatest yet remains in store!
“I see thee, Oh, my Son! and now desire
“Only to thank my God, and calm expire!”
Joseph, with ardour, crled. “That Holy Name,
“Whom still I reverence, worship still the same;
“Who hath supplied my want, subdued my fear,
“Shall lengthen yet thy days, and bless thee here!”

Jacob, whom none, unmoved, might look upon,
Over whose face, a gleam of glory shone,
Thus answer'd, whilst his words such feelings wake,
As tho' from human form, an Angel spake.

“My end is drawing near. The world to me
“Hath little left to charm. Eternity,
“Stupendous word! advances, and mine eye
“Sees earthly things retire, and fade, and die!
“Yes, Oh, my Son! e'en whilst I speak, I feel
“The clouds of evening o'er my senses, steal;
“Night hastens, and beyond, in grand display
“The morning of new life! an endless day!
“The love which you have shewn, Oh, Sons, and dear!
“Will not desert me, now, when death is near.

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“Oh, may the words that from my heart o'erflow,
“Guide you, and be your solace long below!

“There is one good on earth, and one alone—
“The Fear of God, and him to love and own.
“Not as some deem, doth chance direct below,
“Now gladness fill the heart, now wasting woe;
“One Being holds the universal sway,
“One God directs, while creatures all obey.
“This God will still the righteous bless and guide;
“Abraham, to Him, in every danger, cried,
“Isaac confess'd his name, from youth to age,
“And he hath cheer'd me thro' my pilgrimage.
“Oh! worship him, till you to death descend!
“Be you, your Children after you, his friend!
“The storm may seem, in wanton anger sent,
“And clouds and darkness wrap the firmament;
“Yet, on the heart that owns the Hand Divine,
“Light shall spring up, the end unclouded shine!
“Dark was the day, when one I thought had died,
“When o'er my Joseph's fate I sat and sigh'd;
“Water'd my couch with tears, and, 'mid my woes,
“Long'd to descend where sorrow finds repose.
“Dark was the day, when famine raged around,
“And I my Sons sent forth, to Egypt bound,

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“A distant land, 'mid strangers, to obtain,
“For me, and for my house, the needful grain.
“Dark was the day when Simeon stay'd behind,
“And I, to hopeless woe, my heart resign'd:
“But darker was the hour, when tidings came
“That Benjamin must go! my joy! whose name
“Reminded me of one, my better part!
“Whose image still is woven round my heart.
“What once I thought so dark, now light appears!
“Gladness succeeds to woe, and joy to tears!
“A stream of comfort bursts! At length I find
“That all was right, and blame my faithless mind.
“But if His Paths the Highest had conceal'd,
“(If not on earth, 'mid twilight, dim, reveal'd)
“Is there no lesson to be learnt on high?
“No light, in Heaven, to clear the mystery?
“Must we, from faith in God, distrusting, flee,
“And (prest with doubts) confide but when we see?
“Hence, Oh, my Sons! receive this lesson high,
“In God to hope, in Him to live or die,
“And, in the darkest hour to feeble sense,
“Unmoved, to trust his Guardian Providence!
“Oh! stretch your ardent sight! Your homage pay!
“Visions before me float, in long array!

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“I view the dawn that glory round doth shed!
“Man, fallen Man, once more shall lift his head!
“High Heaven a refuge from the storm provide!
“Salvation visit earth! Oh! may we hide
“Safe in that covert, God our Friend, and be
“(In the soul-searching hour of scrutiny!)
“Clothed in his righteousness whose day I see!”

“Thy words,” my Father! “Joseph weeping cried,
“I, in my heart, to my last hour, will hide;
“God be my portion! Heaven my friend and guide!
“This world, with all its glory passes by!
“A flower! a dream! a vapour of the sky!
“But he who makes Jehovah's name his trust,
“May sink serenely to his native dust!
“My Father! 'till thy spirit heaven-ward flies
“My joy will be to cherish thee, to prize,
“With all the gladness age, like thine, can know,
“To make thy heart exult, thy cup o'erflow.
“Nor shalt thou, Oh! my aged Father dear
“Steal into Egypt, with the doubtful cheer:
“The Monarch's self shall honour thee, whilst I,
“Oh! Sire! will by thee live, and near thee die.
“Come forth!” t' his elder Brethren; Joseph said;
“You, first, shall see our King, and bow the head;

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“Lo! I, to Pharaoh's face, your feet will guide,
“And call you all, my treasure and my pride.”

Now, in his royal pomp, is Pharaoh found,
Whilst captains pause, and princes wait around.
Joseph advances, with his Brethren nigh,
(Joy glistening thro' his clear benignant eye)
And, bending, to the Monarch thus he spake.
“Oh! King! my own, my Brethrens' fealty take!
“Thy bounty raised me from the humble state,
“And gave me wealth and power, and made me great;
“Yet do I not my Father's house despise—
“Witness these clasped hands! these weeping eyes!
“The land that gave me birth is veil'd in shade;
“The famine, there, the ravage sore hath made;
“From Canaan, I have call'd my kindred here,
“To soothe their many wants, their hearts to cheer.
“Oh! King! if I have favour found with thee,
“Receive my Brethren, whilst they bend the knee!”

The homage due is paid. The King arose,
And Joseph thus address'd. “Thy Brethrens' woes
“Press on my heart, for who by thee are prized,
“If known to sorrow, or by want chastised

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“Must gain my warmest wish, my best desire,
“'Till Pharaoh's gratitude, with life, expire,
“For thou hast Egypt saved, in her distress,
“And with thee wisdom dwells, and faithfulness:
“But hast thou not a Father?” Joseph said,
“I have a Father, old, with hoary head!
“Spare me awhile!”

Thus saying, from the place,
He hastes, the glow of feeling on his face;
Whilst Pharaoh to the wondering Brethren spake.
“Strangers! I welcome you for Joseph's sake.
“He is my guide, the prop of Egypt's throne,
“Who knows the God of Heaven, of him is known.”
The door thrown wide, all eyes the cause inquire!
Joseph advances with his aged Sire!—
Slowly led on, the Patriarch draws near,
Collected, firm, when, at a sight so dear,
(And in so strange a place!) a closer tie
Bound Jacob to his Childrens' hearts. They sigh,
(Jealous, to agony, upon that day,
Of what their Sire to Pharaoh Great might say!)
Nor did they ever, till that moment, see
Such beauty in his age, such sympathy
Of earth with Heaven. Upon his face they pore,
Placid and pensive, and yet loved him more

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For the brief awe that they beheld, or fear'd,
When, at the Monarch's Throne, he first appear'd!
“Behold my precious Father!” Joseph said;
And faster still th' ungovern'd tear he shed.

While all, the venerable Stranger, eyed,
(Patient as truth, as virtue dignified)
Pharaoh, in gracious accent thus began.
“Receive my welcome, good and reverend Man!
“How old art thou?” Jacob, his hoary head,
Slow bow'd, and thus, in moving accent, said.
“Th' days of th' years of my pilgrimage have been
“A hundred years and thirty. I have seen
“Life lengthen'd, yet my Sires, in joy or woe,
“Stretch'd, far beyond, their pilgrimage below.”
The King replied, “Father! with silvery hair,
“Forget thy sorrow now, forget thy care.
“For Joseph's sake I honour thee, thy Son,
“And whilst thy moments here on earth shall run
“Secure in Egypt's land, thy days shall glide,
“And for thy every want will I provide.
“With grateful heart, I bless the secret Hand
“That brought, for good, thy Son to Egypt's land.
“He saved us in the hour of peril dread;
“Gifts greater! he before my eyes hath spread

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“Sun-beams divine! I, in Jehovah's name,
“Have trusted, one our God, our faith the same.”

Clasping his trembling hands, thus, Jacob cried.
“Some joys are, here, to Heaven itself allied!
“My Son, undazzled by a Monarch's state,
“Hath wisely look'd, from little things, to great,
“And, pressing on, toward full felicity,
“Hath pointed the same road, Oh, King! to thee.
“Tottering upon the verge of earth and time,
“To the same goal, to the same world sublime,
“Let me direct thy gaze! Oh! wisely soar
“Up to eternal things, and God adore!
“In his high name, I bless thee! Thou shalt find
“His watchful care, a wall, before, behind!
“Good days and prosperous, thou, of Him, shalt see!
“Thy kingdom he shall bless! thy family!
“Thy reign! and at the last great solemn day,
“The Judge of Earth and Heaven shall thee array
“With th' Crown of Life, that fadeth not away.”

“Father!” the Monarch said, “Thy words impart
“Joy, yet unknown, that lingers round my heart.
“I feel that thou art greater here than I;
“Thy foot on earth, thy hand upon the sky.

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“Doth not my breast with heaven-taught faith abound?
“Truth lies with thee, and I that pearl have found!
“Were I estranged from hope, the cheering gleam
“That gilds retiring life's benighted stream,
“Still thro' my heart no common thoughts would steal
“For who might look on thee, nor reverence feel?
“But, deeper interests bind me, closer ties!
“Thee, more I honour, now, and doubly prize.
“Thro' the brief scenes thou still on earth may'st see,
“Pharaoh shall cheer thy age, and strive to be,
“Next to a Son, a friend, and true, to thee!”

In Goshen's land, where oil and wine abound,
Jacob, now dwells, his watchful Children round,
Wanting no good that kindness can provide,
Pharaoh, his friend, and Joseph near his side;
In patience waiting for that blissful day
When he shall leave his tenement of clay,
And join that choir of love, that host on high,
Where every pang is past, and tear is dry.

239

BOOK XIV.

Moses.

The waves that just arise and then are past,
The leaves that flee before the driving blast,
The flower that blooms at noon, at eve decays;
All, with a force, that living heart dismays,
Emblem how frail is Man! Jacob now dies!
A sojourner on earth, his native skies
He enters, and resigns a world of care
For joys that ever flourish, fresh and fair.
His many Sons (the unalterable doom!)
Pass in succession to the silent tomb:
Friends, neighbours, kindred, all that once composed
Their busy tribes, have on the turf reposed,

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Whose memories to forgetfulness, are gone—
All vanish'd, like the clouds they look'd upon!

Another King o'er Egypt now arose
Who knew not Joseph. Bent beneath their woes,
His distant Sons and Brethren bear the pain
Of slavery's hard bond and galling chain.
Ages long-lengthen'd, Israel's Children feel
Oppressions, wounds that faith can scarcely heal.
They mourn that eve leaves them to thought a prey,
And, in the morning, weep that it is day.
But tho' for them, no tear of pity flow'd,
And, strew'd with thorns, was found, their mortal road,
There was an ear that heard their secret groan,
And one to whom their every wrong was known.

Messiah to his Angel Servants spake.
“The hour is come! To judgment, lo! I wake!
“Israel their wrongs have mourn'd thro' many a year,
“And now their day of freedom draweth near!
“Before my covenant, once made, decay,
“Rocks shall dissolve, and mountains melt away.
“Satan, Arch-Fiend! whose toils around are spread,
“Once (as ye know) hosts of immortals led

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“To dare the Highest, whence, in wide o'erthrow,
“God hurl'd both him and them to realms of woe:
“Ascending, by high sufferance, he hath made
“All round (at first in beauty fair array'd)
“A wilderness, where Sin is loved alone,
“Whilst Satan proudly calls the world his own!
“But I have here a treasure: I will stay
“His impious boast, and, in a glorious way,
“Conduct (my portion, by my Father given)
“A Ransom'd Multitude from Earth to Heaven.
“Their cup of suffering full, my people now
“Beneath their iron yoke shall cease to bow.
“By that resistless might which none can tell,
“I will confound the impious powers of hell.
“From Israel's Sons, I will a Prophet raise,
“My will to publish, to declare my praise,
“And lead my chosen Servants, with a hand
“Triumphant and outstretch'd, from Egypt's land!”

Gabriel and Michael (while their spirits burn)
The further revelation, pause to learn.
Messiah thus. “My words, Oh! Seraphs, hear!
“Pharaoh beholds, dismay'd, with jealous fear,

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“Israel's increasing tribes. Presumptuous breath!
“Soon will he doom their new-born sons to death.
“Gabriel!—Erelong, and Moses shall be born,
“(My Servant's name.) His Mother, wild, forlorn,
“Will look to God, imploring his defence:
“Approach, and, by thy secret influence,
“Prompt her to place the Child amid the reeds
“That Nile brings forth, and with his waters feeds.
“Michael!—to Pharaoh's Daughter haste, and guide,
“In that same hour, her footsteps to the tide;
“And let her see the Child, whose Sister lead
“To watch the Innocent. Let pity plead
“With Egypt's Princess. Let the Hebrew mild
“Seek to provide a Nurse, and, for the Child,
“Its anxious Mother bring! He shall arise,
“Pre-eminent, in Egypt's learning wise,
“But (better far!) replenish'd with my grace,
“And I, by him, will ransom Israel's race.”

Pharaoh, surrounded by his courtiers proud,
By all the Gods of Heaven, indignant, vow'd
To slay each Son of Israel Mother born.
“Most just!” his Flatterers cried. “Tho' now we scorn

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“These prostrate captives, and with wrongs oppress,
“Making their spirits bend in bitterness,
“The faster they increase. If left alone
“They will usurp, erelong, e'en Egypt's throne!”
“Never!” the Monarch answer'd. “Let them weep!
“Augment their sorrows! weightier burdens heap!
“And whilst no lingering fears your hands restrain,
“Slay the young Children, and their shrieks disdain!”
Oh! day of woe! Their hair the Mothers rend!
Whilst up to Heaven accusing groans ascend!

With royal pomp, while slave on slave attends,
Pharaoh's fair Daughter to the Nile descends.
The heavens are clear, the stream serenely flows;
Far o'er the wave the sun his radiance throws;
On the green-mantled margin, stretching far,
Flowers, gem-like, float upon their leafy car;
Whilst, further off, the torn rush, gliding by,
(Upon the peaceful image of the sky)
Seems like some winged serpent, up on high.
With earth and heaven so calm, so smooth the tide,
The Princess paus'd to drink the feeling wide.
“What sound is that?” she asks. All list to hear.
The voice of sorrowing Child ascended clear!

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“Search the thick reeds!” she cried, “that yonder spread,
“Courting the breeze.” Thither the maidens fled,
And, 'mid the o'erhanging flags, with wonder, spy
A beauteous Boy! there placed in secrecy,
And pleading with the helpless Infant's tear,
That touching note, which none may slight who hear.
“SweetBabe!” the Princess spake, with faltering tongue,
As o'er its ark, of rushes, rude, she hung.
“It is a Hebrew's Son, there placed to die!
“Poor Infant! I will all thy wants supply.”
A Damsel drawing near, submissive cried,
“For the lorn Babe shall I a Nurse provide?”
“Go!” said the Princess, with the accent mild:
Th' impatient Mother hastes to tend her Child!

Now Pharaoh's Daughter calls the Boy her own.
At Egypt's court he dwells, and, round the throne,
To manhood rises, but, the baseless joys
Which grandeur loves, and all the idle toys
Folly explores, to cheat th' immortal mind,
Within his breast no baneful refuge find,
He looks beyond this transient scene of things,
And worships God, and serves the King of Kings.

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Nor saw the Hebrew Youth, without concern,
With tears, their bitter bread, his Brethren earn.
Each stripe they bore, and every wrong they knew,
From Moses' heart the pang responsive drew.
At evening hour, by Nile's majestic strand,
He mark'd the Egyptian lift his murderous hand
To slay an Hebrew! At the sight so dread,
He smote th' aggressor and from Pharaoh fled!
Freed from the trammels of the vain and proud,
Which round the hive of power obsequious crowd,
A Shepherd (whilst on homely fare he feeds)
O'er Midian's plains, his Father's flocks, he leads:
There first he knew how little Man might bless,
The worth of peace, the price of quietness.
A monarch's look, no longer taught to fear,
To court his smile, to dread his frown austere;
To watch his glance, th' incessant service pay,
And for another live from day to day;
Rescued from thraldrom, in the rustic guise,
As the chief good, he learnt his God to prize:
His thoughts, 'till hoary age, to Heaven, he gave,
And lived as one who look'd beyond the grave.

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Amid the wilderness, far spreading round,
Tending his flock, in holy musings drown'd,
Moses beheld a sight of fearful name,
A Burning Bush, still burning, still the same!
Awe-struck and trembling, with mysterious dread,
Stedfast awhile he gazed, then bow'd his head!
Distinct, from 'mid the fire, extending wide,
A voice went forth, to earth nor time allied,
“Take off thy shoes! Angels this spot surround!
“The place whereon thou stand'st is Holy Ground!”
Whilst Moses felt his inmost spirit quake,
Thus from the flame again Messiah spake.

“The wrongs, the violence that lift their head,
“And now o'er Israel, like a torrent spread,
“I have observed, unseen. I, with a frown,
“Have mark'd the cares that press my people down:
“Their sighs and ceaseless groans have reach'd mine ears
“And I have mark'd, and number'd, all their tears.
“Their cup of care is full, their misery,
“And now the hour of freedom they shall see.
“Thee have I chosen (in their anguish great)
“To rescue Israel from their abject state!

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“To lead them to a land, a fruitful soil,
“That flows with milk and honey, corn and oil!
“To Pharaoh haste! and tho' his heart I know,
“Tell him, to let my people Israel go!
“I mark the doubts that in thy breast arise,
“Is not all nature mine, the earth, the skies?
“Can aught molest, when I from danger guard?
“Or be, for Power Omnipotent, too hard?
“Cast forth thy rod!” Moses obey'd the sound,
When, lo! a Serpent, hissing, glided round!
“Once more yon reptile in thy hand sustain!”
He raised it. To a rod it turn'd again!

Moses obedient answer'd, bending low,
“Unworthy, where thou sendest, I will go.”
Messiah thus, “Egypt thy presence needs!
“And now, to meet thee, Aaron hither speeds!
“I will be with thee! On my hand rely!
“And I will wisdom, words, and strength, supply!”
The flame subsides!—Th' intolerable day!
The bush is whole! The vision fades away!

Moses, with joy, the prospect fair survey'd;
Calmly confiding in th' Almighty's aid,

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He felt a power his feeble heart sustain,
And hasten'd forth to break the captive's chain!
Aaron he finds. “Oh! come,” he cried, “with me!
“The cup is full of Israel's misery!
“The Angel of the Lord e'en me hath sent
“To call our Brethren home from banishment!
“We speed to Egypt! Strangers to dismay
“Where'er the spirit lead, we dare obey!”

Two reverend Forms, at Pharaoh's court await,
Wrapt in deep thought, and, without grandeur, great.
The mantle loose their aged limbs defend,
Whilst their grey beards in flowing locks descend.
Moses thus spake, with aspect firm as meek,
“Lead us to Pharaoh's presence. Him we seek!”
O'er floors, which gold, in pomp of glory, paves;
Through guards and courtiers, sycophants and slaves,
Moses and Aaron pass, calm, dignified,
Truth their support, and Deity their guide.

Pharaoh, with scowling eye, as near they came,
Contemptuous said, “Oh, Men! your state and name!
“Ye seem the beings of a world o'erthrown,
“And what your mission here, to man unknown!”

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Moses replied, “We speak no mystery,
“Our mission is from God, Oh, King! to thee!
“The Ruler of the skies, of all below,
“Calls thee to let thy Hebrew captives go!
“This is His will, who rear'd the firmament,
“And we, to lead our Brethren hence, are sent!”
The Courtiers look'd, dark as the stormy morn,
While Pharaoh cast the furious look of scorn,
Thus he replied. “Presumptuous Hebrew, know!
“Thy prayer is vain. I will not let them go!
“Flee from my presence, or, the blast of fate
“Shall make thee mourn thy rashness, when too late!”
Moses and Aaron felt no power to speak,
And forth retired, wisdom of God to seek.

Pharaoh, to those around, in anger cried,
“The harder task, the heavier yoke provide!
“Hence, from your hearts the pleader pity spurn!
“To their complaints the ear disdainful turn!
“Idle and proud, no tale of brick shall cease,
“No straw be given; nor young, nor old, release;
“Abridge their means, yet still their work increase;
“And let them mourn, in bitterness, the hour,
“When first, escape they sought, from Pharaoh's power.”

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The feeble bands that bound th' Egyptian's heart,
To human sympathies, are rent apart.
The ancient Men, beneath the burning sky,
In anguish look around, and heave the sigh,
Not for themselves, tho' ponderous chains oppress,
But for their Children, born to wretchedness!
The Prophets pace alone the sandy plains,
Opprest with woe, while silence round them reigns.

Messiah, as an Angel, draweth near!
“Mourners!” he thus began, “restrain your tear!
“Where is your faith in Him who rules on high?
“Repose in, Heaven and on my strength rely!
“To Abraham I appear'd, in darkest shade!
“Isaac and Jacob, Me, their refuge made.
“They knew, for Man, that their remain'd a rest,
“‘That in their seed all nations should be blest:’
“With them my solemn covenant was found,
“I promised them a land with gladness crown'd,
“Flowing with milk and honey, and the day
“Fast hastes, when Israel's cares shall pass away.
“They are my chosen. They are loved by me,
“And I will free them from captivity.
“Lo! I have heard the prayers that round arise;
“Their tears, their stifled groans have reach'd the skies,

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“And I will now, e'en now, my word fulfil,
“And shew myself the hope of Israel still.
“To Pharaoh's court return! No danger fear!
“My still small Voice shall whisper in your ear.
“I will instruct you what to do, to say,
“And lo! in you, my power supreme display.”
Moses and Aaron give the homage due,
And back to Pharaoh, now, their way pursue.

The Monarch saw them enter and exclaim'd,
(Whilst wrath to hideous height his heart enflamed)
“Oh! prodigies of evil, do you dare
“My anger, braving torture and despair?”

Moses, thus answer made, with brow sedate,
“Hear me! Oh, Prince! The God I serve is great!
“Darkness and clouds before his presence fly!
“He sits upon the circle of the sky!
“All living things to him for succour call!
“His eye beholds, his hand sustains them all!
“He hath commanded, and I must obey,
“E'en me, to stand before thy face and say—
“‘Let Israel go! Remit their sore distress!
“And let them serve me in the wilderness!’

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“My voice regard! nor dare, in evil hour,
“Resist Jehovah's voice—Jehovah's power!”

Pharaoh resentful said, “What might is thine?
“Shew me credentials of thy Call Divine!
“This instant prove thy mission, or thine eyes
“No more shall see yon flaming sun arise!”

Aaron his rod cast forth upon the ground,
When it became a Serpent, coiling round!
Astonishment in every face appear'd!
Whilst, at the sight, portentous, Pharaoh fear'd!
At length, recovering from his deep surprise,
“Convoke my Sorc'rers,” in dismay, he cries.
Stately the sage Magicians, now draw near,
With muttering words, and looks as death austere.
When Pharaoh thus. “Behold upon the ground,
“Yon huge and fearful Serpent, coiling round!
“From Hebrew Rod it sprang! Do you the same,
“Or I will blot from earth your place and name!”

The Sorcerers trembling saw the tempest lower
Their danger knew, and felt their futile power;
Yet, in the desperate extreme, to save
From threat'ning death, they disappointment brave.

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Boldly, they cast their rods upon the ground,
When, lo! their rods a serpent race are found!
Dread and amaze impress'd each spirit near,
But the surprise arose to awful fear,
When they beheld, with power of Heaven imprest,
The serpent Aaron call'd, devour the rest!
They knew not Him to whom the gift they owed,
Who for his own designs that power bestow'd.
Still harden'd, Pharaoh answer'd. “Hebrews! hence!
“Our Gods alone possess Omnipotence!
“Speed to your Brethren, and, assured know,
“I will not let my Hebrew captives go!”

Moses and Aaron from the Monarch haste,
And pace, alone, once more, the sandy waste.
The Angel draweth near. “Depart!” he cried,
“(On the next morn) down to the river's side;
“There shall you Pharaoh see. If he refuse
“To free my people, and destruction choose,
“Stretch forth thy rod, Oh, Aaron! and the flood,
“By which he stands, shall instant roll with blood!”
The Angel disappears! With morning fair
The Prophets to the river's brink repair.

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Pharaoh approaches now, with proud parade;
He sees the Prophets there, and, half afraid,
Turns off his eyes, then, with a closer view,
Scann'd them afresh. Near him the Hebrews drew,
When Aaron thus. “Let these my Brethren go!
“Or, God will send thee the o'er whelming woe!
“This lordly river, this expanse of flood
“Shall at my voice, obedient, turn to blood!”
Pharaoh indignant cried. “I scorn thy prayer!”
A pause, a solemn stillness mark'd the air!
Aaron, his rod, stretch'd o'er the river wide,
When, lo! the waters roll'd a crimson tide!

Relentless, haughty, Pharaoh thus bespake,
“These Hebrews shall not go, and, for your sake,
“I will oppress them more, and let them know
“Fresh wrongs, till Nile with blood shall cease to flow.”

Eight other plagues did Egypt's King sustain,
Eight times he vow'd to break the Hebrews' chain,
But when the evils past which he bewail'd,
Again his heart relax'd, his promise fail'd.
At length the Angel, on the desert sand,
Moses and Aaron met with this command:

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“To Egypt's Monarch haste, and let him know
“There yet awaits, a last, and deeper, woe.
“Fearless declare, that if he still disdains
“Past judgments—Israel's injured tribes detains,
“His first-born Sons, amid the general cry,
“Throughout all Egypt, shall, at midnight, die”!

The Prophets, as the words severe, they heard,
The Monarch sought, and thus their threat preferr'd.
Moses began. “Oh! Pharaoh, hard of heart!
“Rather than let thy Hebrew slaves depart,
“Thou hast endured the God of Israel's frown.
“Afflictions, long, have prest our Brethren down:
“Toward thee have they directed looks aghast,
“Accusing, which to Heaven's high throne have past.
“Sent by the Highest, lo! one plague remains.
“If thou delay to break the Hebrews' chains,
“All Egypt's first-born Sons, with none to save,
“Shall sink (thy victims!) to th' untimely grave.”

Pharaoh exclaim'd. “Threatnings on threatnings shower,
“Yet, tho' thy words were thunder, and thy power
“Great as that God's, whose judgment works us woe,
“I would not let my Hebrew captives go!”

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Moses, retiring, said, and smote his breast,
“The cloud, the whirlwind hastes, in vengeance drest!”

The day of wrath arrives. The King beholds
Affliction like a storm which still unfolds,
More black, and gathering strength, that fills the air
With piercing shrieks or groans that speak despair,
When on the frantic Mother, passing by,
Rending her locks, he casts reluctant eye;
Then views the Father gazing on the ground,
In all the agony of grief profound,
He gives the common sigh, yet, in that hour,
Hardens his heart, and scorns Jehovah's power.
The sorrow, which he talk'd of, but not felt,
Now to his heart the bitter draught hath dealt!
His Son, his first-born Son resigns his breath,
And Pharaoh feels, at length, how dread is death!
Thus he exclaims to Courtiers bending low,
“This is indeed, unutterable woe!
“Speed for the Hebrew Seers! Oh! bring them here,
“And kindly treat whom we are made to fear!”

Moses and Aaron, with commanding air,
To Egypt's King approach. Opprest with care,

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He sees them not! when, bursting from his trance,
Eager he cries, “Oh, sent of God, advance!
“The strife is o'er! Resistance now is past!
“My towering spirit is subdued at last!
“Take from my heart your crushing weight of woe,
“And I will let your Hebrew Brethren go!”

The Prophet bow'd, when Moses, solemn, spake.
“These plagues have fall'n on Egypt for thy sake.
“God sends disease, or health; the calm, the storm,
“And what he wills, all nature must perform.
“Before the golden clouds of morn expand,
“We, and our Brethren, march from Egypt's land.”
Now to the Lord, Most High, the Prophet pray'd,
And, lo! the tears were stopp'd, the plague was stay'd.

The captive of a year who freedom gains,
Leaps, like a roe, to break his galling chains,
But here a people rise to second birth,
Whom twice two hundred years had bent to earth.
They shout (while all th' excess of joy sustain)
“Our bands are broken! Israel lives again!”

Moses to Aaron said. “My Brother, heed!
“Doth not a vow pertain to Abraham's seed?

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“When Joseph died, the name to us so dear,
“Did he not say, to Israel, weeping, near,
“(His spirit fill'd with faith) ‘Whene'er you go
“From Egypt, to the land which God will shew,
“Bear up my bones!’ Our Fathers (reverenced still)
“Promised, and we their promise must fulfil.
“Oh! Aaron, now, while peaceful midnight reigns,
“To yonder pile, that time's rude hand disdains,
“Speed thou, and bear away the loved remains.”

The crescent moon, in tranquil beauty fair,
Illumed the earth, and stillness fill'd the air.
One glorious star, beside her, shone serene,
Till hosts, slow rising, throng the spangled scene.
The cloud, with silver edge, slow glided by,
Save which, no motion mark'd the sleeping sky;
And earth, and man, with all their noise and woes,
Sunk, like some weary giant, to repose.
Aaron, with many a dauntless youth around,
Sought the sepulchral tomb, in musings drown'd:
And now they view the monumental pile
Inspiring awe, which none might see, and smile.
The lofty cypress waves, before, behind,
Dark, silent, solemn, freezing to the mind.

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Thro' the deep path they pass, no light to cheer,
Whilst all the air breathes death, and secret fear!
They reach the iron door, of massy span,
For ages moved not by the touch of man.
Its ample folds, with strenuous might, they spread,
Grating, with heavy hinge, that echoes dread,
Pour'd thundering on the regions of the dead.
All pause!—Beholding the intense of night,
Thro' which in vain they sent their searching sight,
Terror pervades the heart! The Prophet sage
Seizes the torch! and Youth now follows Age
Thro' the dark dome! thro' many a winding way—
Down mould'ring steps, where rays, wide-scatter'd, play
From pendant crystals, and the starry floor
Which ne'er the torch-light, dazzling, gave before.
They reach the cavern small that holds the prize!
What mean those looks of dread, those starting eyes!
That sigh half stifled, and uplifted hand?
Can that be Joseph, Lord of Egypt's land?
No costly mantle near, decay around,
His bones all blanch'd, and stretch'd upon the ground?
Such order! beauteous symmetry, so rare—
Each views, and pours the spirit-prompted prayer,

260

Blended with aspirations to His Name
Who form'd that wonderous world, the human frame!
The urn is near. The precious bones they raise,
And, one by one, place slowly in the vase.
Then, pensive, and in silence, seek again
The moon, the stars of Heaven, the haunts of men.

The morn draws near, impatient thousands bold
Burst from their tents to mark the dawn unfold;
Roused to the love of freedom that would die
Rather than crouch once more to slavery.
The sun arises! Never, till that morn,
Saw they such clouds the lord of day adorn!

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Beheld such beauty in his stately form,
Or felt such kindling beams their spirits warm.
Friends, greeting friends, on every side appear!
Some shout aloud, some drop the silent tear!
E'en children laugh'd, as far the tidings fly,
And felt a happiness they knew not why.

Moses and Aaron, 'mid the tribes are found,
Whom grateful thousands, breathing praise, surround;
Whilst further off (and Pharaoh 'mid the rest)
The Egyptians stand, silent and sore distress'd;
Augmenting not, by look, that gladness shews,
The joy, which like a torrent, round them flows.

The Israelites advance! Oh! what a burst
Of joyance fill'd the element, when first,
(Scarce realized!) their freedom full they find,
And leave the yoke, the groan, the chain behind!
Onward they march from Egypt; and her towers
Now in the distance fade. The evening lowers,
When, on the sandy waste, that hath no bound,
They pitch their tents while silence reigns around.

The heart, by sorrow soften'd, once again,
Changes to stone, when ease succeeds to pain.

262

Pharaoh beheld his Hebrew slaves depart,
Whilst secret sorrow brooded at his heart.
“Up! For pursuit!” he cried. “In evil hour,
“When weakness triumph'd, I resign'd my power!
“Yet, not too late! I will forget my mirth,
“And like a cheerless spirit pore on earth,
“Till I have bound with fetters, firm as brass,
“Yon Hebrews that with shout triumphant pass!”

How safe are they whom angel guards surround!
Satan may rave, but cannot burst his bound;
Demons may plot and spirits fierce assail,
But all their schemes, their projects proud shall fail!

'Mid darkness, when no sound was heard from man,
No murmur, but the far-off pelican—
(His home the wilderness!) at Moses' side
Messiah stood and spake. “Thy Unseen Guide
“Warns thee that Egypt's armies hither speed
“Once more t' oppress the people thou dost lead!
“But God is with thee! Cast thy fears behind!
“No more shall Pharaoh these my chosen bind!
“A cloudy pillar shall before thee go
“To point thy way, which on thy foes shall throw

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“Mist and uncertainty; and when the night
“Falls on the earth, to aid thy earnest flight,
“A fiery column shall direct thy way,
“Safety to thee, but to thy foes dismay.
“Fear not yon sea that far before thee spreads,
“On hallow'd ground my servant ever treads!
“My impulse thou shalt follow! In the woe
“That Israel threatens, I my hand will shew.
“Thou shalt escape triumphant, by my care,
“Whilst Pharaoh and his host shall perish there!”

A pallid Hebrew, at the break of day,
Speeds thro' the camp and cries. “In long array,
“Pharaoh advances! Let us all prepare,
“Still to endure the yoke, the fetter bear!”
The Elders with the look of anguish dread,
Round Moses throng, when, trembling, thus they said.
“This hour, declare, if hope indulged may be,
“Or must we all sink back to slavery?”
Moses replied. “Have faith in God, Most High!
“Sooner shall stars rush jarring thro' the sky,
“Night and old chaos wild return sgain,
“Than you endure the yoke and drag the chain.”

264

By the Red Sea, the Hebrews now appear;
Waves roar before, and Pharaoh's host is near!
Again the Elders say. “It is too late!
“Chains must be ours, and slavery's abject state!
“Our sun is set. Behind, the foe prevails,
“Whilst ocean bays us in, and refuge fails.”
Moses replied, “Have faith! On God rely
“And we shall triumph, whilst our foes will die.”

Th' Egyptians nearer draw! In rage, the sea
Toss'd his huge waves in fearful majesty!
While on each hand is heard the mourning voice,
As death or fetters seem'd the only choice!
In Moses' breast distrust no refuge found:
He saw, unmoved, the waters raging round;
His rod he, solemn, rais'd. “Go back!” he cried.
The sea retires! The boisterous waves divide!
A wall, the waters stand, on either side!
Moses, to Israel thus. “Pass boldly thro'!
“'Mid the wide sea, the path of safety view!
“Our tribes, this day, shall their salvation know,
“And Pharaoh meet his great and last o'erthrow!”

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Moses and Aaron, to the ocean's bed—
Fearless descend! Free from the lingering dread,
The Hebrews follow, and (with faith before)
Toil on and, shouting loud, their God adore!
And now they safe have reach'd the distant shore.

The cloud dissolves, when Pharaoh sees his foe,
And hastens on to deal th' o'erwhelming blow.
He views them strew'd by roaring ocean's side,
Frantic, with death and dread on every side.
“Speed on!” he shouted. “Where is now their trust?
“Israel's last hope lies prostrate in the dust!
“The God, on whom they lean, too weak to save,
“Leaves them to Pharaoh, or the raging wave!”

Now Egypt's Monarch, with his hosts advance,
Shaking the buoyant spear and glittering lance.
Unnumber'd chariots, in their rich attire,
Shine in the sun, like moving streams of fire.
The lords of Egypt there triumphant ride
In all their gorgeous shew, and royal pride.
“Where is the Hebrew's God!” they cry aloud.
“His power and matchless might! Upon the cloud
“Helpless he sits, his unsubstantial throne,
“Whilst ours are Gods supreme and ours alone!”

266

Pharaoh, and all his followers, silent stand,
(A countless host!) upon the ocean's strand.
They view, dismay'd, their cherish'd hopes expire!
They mark, appall'd, th' imperious waves retire,
And, thro' the sea, the Hebrews pass along,
Harmless, and hear their loud triumphant song!
Pharaoh exclaim'd. “Our God his blessings showers!
“The road our foes have taken shall be ours!
“We will the Hebrews follow, thro' the wave,
“And dare the Lord, they worship, now to save.—
“Behold a channel thro' the rifted tide!
“A watery wall appears on either side!
“Down to the sea! Yon Hebrews we pursue!
“Our Gods shall hold us up and guide us thro'!”

The shout arises, spreading more and more,
Extending fast, thro' all the crowded shore,
At length, faint heard, like distant ocean's roar;
And still the noise decreases, passing on,
When motion strikes the eye, as voice is gone:
So, when the breeze, upon a summer's morn,
Lordly arising, sweeps the ripen'd corn,
The margin first the partial impress feels,
Whilst further, now, the wave-like tumult steals;

267

Till the wide field displays long sweeping lines;
The rustling gush, in murmur faint, declines,
Now lost, tho' still the far-off blade is stirr'd,
And fancy fills the ear with sounds unheard.

In all his pomp and pride, disdaining dread,
Pharaoh descends to press the watery bed.
His royal chariot fearless leads the way,
Whilst the made chargers, scarce their lord obey.
The thundering trump and cornet shake the air.
His captains and his mighty men are there.
Sun-blazing banners dart their radiance thence,
And all is pride and all is confidence.
One faint misgiving, transient, half arose,
When Pharaoh saw the sea his path inclose!
On either hand perceived his way, tho' dry,
Thro' walls of water, and, above, the sky!
To quench the thought of danger, to his bands,
The vaunt he breathes. “Your spears, like ocean's sands,
“Invincible! for sweeping wrath prepare!
“Our sovereign might, sea, earth, and heaven, may dare!”

268

Scorning His power (the fugitive's defence!)
Their impious shouts they pour with vehemence,
Majestic, whilst each spurns afresh his fears,
As he th' acclaim of Pharaoh's thousands hears.
The sun retires! In threatening hue, they spy
Cloud heap'd on cloud! The winds infuriate fly!
Ah! now, the thunder's sovereign roar ascends,
(Quenching man's voice) that Heaven's wide concave rends!
Whilst, in terrific blasts of forked glare,
Lightnings and livid meteors range the air.
Pharaoh exclaims. “Back! back!” with ghastly dread.
All, turning, with convulsive ardour, tread
(In wild amaze) the path they sought before,
And speed impetuous to the far-off shore!
Too late! The waters close! The mighty host
Pharaoh led forth, with shout and impious boast,
No more are seen! Their King, their captains vain,
Their nobles, breathing late their high disdain,
'Mid uproar wild, commingled in the deep,
Feel o'er their heads the furious billows sweep!

269

The waves pass on, whilst here and there appear,
The sea-drench'd banner brief, and slanting spear!
The chariot, and the horse, whose prance is o'er,
One moment float, then sink, to rise no more.
Ah! now the waves their trophies cease to bear,—
Pharaoh, and all his host are buried there!

“And Joseph said unto his Brethren, I die: and God will surely visit you, and bring you out of this land, into the land which he sware to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob. And Joseph took an oath of the Children of Israel, saying, God will surely visit you, and ye shall carry up my bones from hence.” Genesis, chap. l. ver. 24.25.

“And Moses took the bones of Joseph with him, for he had straitly sworn the Children of Israel, saying, God will surely visit you, and ye shall carry up my bones away hence with you. Exodus, chap. xiii. ver. 19.

“By faith, Joseph, when he died, made mention of the departing of the Children of Israel, and gave commandment concerning his bones.”

Hebrews, chap. xi. ver. 22.

270

BOOK XV.

Moses.

The Hebrews, safe (while warring billows roar)
Behold th' Egyptians dead upon the shore.
Each moment shews the warrior lord abased,
Each wave augments the heap of death and waste!
What corse is that, by winds ungentle fann'd,
Bruised and dismantled, on the foaming strand?
Pharaoh lies there! the great, the mighty King!
Why do the flatterers cease his praise to sing?
Where is the grandeur, where the royal sway,
Which loftiest hearts aspired but to obey?
All past, like shadows of the night, away!

271

No watchful eyes surround the Monarch now,
A wreath of sea-weeds binds his senseless brow!
The broken spear he holds, in carnage dyed,
Whilst his starr'd crown lies batter'd by his side.
Direful vicissitude! Can this be he
Whose voice declared a nation's destiny!
Who stood so late upon his stable throne,
And proudly call'd a hundred realms his own!
Can this be he, who, like a God, declared—
“This nation shall be blasted! this be spared!
“I know no bounds! Fate hangs upon my frown!
“I will raise up, and I alone pull down!”
Could ever words thus impious, vain, and high,
Pass from yon corse, more weak than infancy!
Whelm'd now in the ineffable disgrace
Whilst the rude sands dance heedless o'er his face?

A while the Hebrews pause (in wonder lost)
To see the spray, like a December frost
Whitening their fallen foes, no more their dread,
All, like the sea-shells round promiscuous spread.
Moses, with solemn awe, beholds the scene,
(The tempest spent, the sky once more serene)
Views chiefs and warriors, far as eye may trace,
Stretch'd o'er the strand—the proud relentless race!

272

His spirit burns, no more to be restrain'd:
He pours to Heaven the grateful song, unfeign'd;
He sings, how Pharaoh's host with none to weep,
Down sunk, like lead, cast in the mighty deep!

Moses, to Israel thus (all crowding near)
“Say will you not the God of Abraham fear?
“Whose out-stretch'd arm, even now, before our face,
“Hath wrought deliverance for his chosen race?”
Each answer'd. “We have found in God a Friend!
“To him our voice shall rise, our knee shall bend!”

Emblem of mortal life, they now begin,
(Warring with foes without, and foes within)
Exposed to want, and toil, and sore distress,
Their passage thro' the howling wilderness.

Upon that day, no cloud obscured the sky,
The winds were hush'd, or murmur'd quietly;
The Hebrews thought, how sweet it was, to see
No cruel master; (all from bondage free!)
To serve their God; his guardian Hand to own,
Whilst entering on the trackless waste unknown!
The peaceful hour is past. The winds arise!
The clouds, dark-gathering, crowd the burden'd skies!

273

Their food decreases. Trembling, now they fear,
Sorrow on sorrow pressing, Famine near!
Korah, the proud, exclaim'd, “Why were we led
“Amid this dreary waste, to die for bread?”
Abiram cried. “Where is Jehovah's grace?
“Not God, himself, can feed us in this place!”
The people answer'd, “Woe to Israel's race!
“Not God, himself, can feed us in this place!”

Moses (retiring to his tent) on high
Rais'd his dim sight and pour'd the earnest cry.
“Pardon their sins!” he said. “Oh! God, forgive!
“And tho' rebellious, let thy people live!”
Near him (no prelude) he, without dismay,
Beheld the Angel standing, clothed in day!
The Vision spake. “These faithless words I hear!
“When will my servants trust their God and fear!
“Haste to this murmuring race, and at my call,
“By the next morn, manna, and quails shall fall!”

Moses, to meet his Brethren, hastes. He cried,
“Our God is merciful, or you had died!
“If cares arise, affliction, or distress,
“Oh, Men! whilst wandering thro' the wilderness,

274

“Should not your wants the earnest prayer create?
“Have you so little seen that God is Great?
“Cannot that Hand which led you thro' the sea,
“Which screen'd you in that dread extremity!
“Provide you, still, with food, where'er you stray,
“Arm'd with the might which heaven and earth obey?
“Can any thing escape Jehovah's eye,
“Or be too hard for Him who form'd the sky?
“Have faith! and ere the morning dews depart
“God will appear, and plenty glad your heart!”

The evening comes, when, from the eastern coast,
Quails crowd, unnumber'd, like an armed host,
Troubling the air, and on the camp descend
To prove to Israel, God was still their friend.
The morning dawns, when, thick upon the ground,
Manna, in ample heaps, the Hebrews found,
Who, whilst they feast on the delicious fare,
Vow never more to doubt Heaven's watchful care.

The water fails! Dathan impatient cried,
“Would that we all in Egypt's land had died!
“Where is Jehovah's power, his favour where!
“This Moses, our indignant scoff shall bear!

275

“Him will we stone, and let him know and fear,
“That not for good, he led his Brethren here!”
“Stones!” “Stones!” the people call'd. With grief opprest,
The Angel, Moses found, and him address'd.
“Haste, and yon rock, before thee, bleak and bare,
“Smite with thy rod, and streams shall issue there!”

The shout is heard! Moses unfolds his tent,
And Dathan sees, leading (on murder bent!)
The furious band, outrageous, sworn to slay
Moses, and back to Egypt force their way!
Forth he advances aud the host addrest.
“Rebellious men and evil! In your breast,
“Dwells there no faith in God? My heart is grieved!
“Like our first Father, you (of hell deceived!)
“Have turn'd from Heaven aside, and lies believed.
“Bend on your knees! From God the gift implore!
“He is all-powerful! His Hand of yore
“Threw back the waves, when you from Egypt fled!
“He gave you, in his mercy, quails for bread!
“And if, in his right arm, you now confide,
“You all shall live, with fulness satisfied!”

276

Moses first bent, and pour'd the fervent prayer.
The lion hearts are tamed! All, kneeling, share
The penitential blessing, whilst they raise
Their eyes to Heaven, and God, their refuge, praise.
Moses arose. “Haste to yon rock!” he cried.
“The stone shall yield! the stubborn clift divide!
“And thence, for you, shall burst the copious tide!

Before the rock, whilst eager crowds surround,
(All eyes on Moses fix'd, all voices drown'd)
The Man of God appears. His arm was bare,
And long his beard, and white his parted hair.
One moment to the sky, a look he sent
Of awful aspect. Spirits turbulent
Beheld and trembled. (Aaron by his side)
Moses, 'mid silence, smote the rock! The tide
Burst furious forth, and all were satisfied!

Lo! Amalek advances! Fill'd with dread,
Israel to Moses flies. The Prophet said,
“Fear not! This day our God his power will shew,
“And give yon impious King, his great o'erthrow!
“Joshua, approach!” The warrior heard and came;
When Moses thus. “Hence! In Jehovah's name

277

“Meet yonder foe, and shew, while prayer ascends,
“How great that people is whom God defends”

Dismay'd not, Joshua hears the fearful boast,
Sent forth from Amalek's gigantic host,
The threat severe of vengeance, and leads on
Israel to war. As morn's first radiance shone,
The conflict waxes hot! Moses, afar,
Beholds the fight, calm as the mattin star
Which o'er his head, a humbler, sun appears,
That awes the gazer's spirit, while it cheers.
Ah! now the sword of Amalek prevails!
E'en Joshua faints, the Hebrew's spirit fails!
“Help!” Moses calls. “These trembling hands upbear;
“Let me renew afresh the wrest'ling prayer!”
His hands are rais'd. To God aloud he cries.
The fight rekindles, when, before his eyes,
Proud Amalek, by Israel vanquish'd, flies!

Joshua returns triumphant. Moses spake.
“Prayer is our shield! Our God, for Abraham's sake,
“Will not, with foes, tho' great, our way impede,
“Nor e'er desert us, in our hour of need.
“On us his promise rests. By his high hand
“He will conduct us safe to Canaan's land.”

278

Loud voices rise, (a wild tumultuous roar!)
“We and our Children still will God adore!”

Amid the hour of night, when slumber chain'd
Israel's wide-spreading tribes, and stillness reign'd,
An Angel thus reveal'd the warning word.
“Up, to the top of Sinai!” Moses heard:
He knew the voice, and with obedient feet
Toil'd up the mountain steep, his God to meet.
Messiah thus. “To Israel's Children say,
“If they will trust in me, and me obey,
“My Providence shall for their wants provide,
“And I, thro' life, will be their God and Guide.
“A holy nation, a peculiar race,
“Shall they arise. My dew-distilling grace
“Shall bless them. Days of gladness they shall see,
“And endless joy, at last, their portion be!”

These words to Israel, Moses now convey'd.
All, with a shout, to Heaven, their homage paid,
Exclaiming, whilst his guardian care they own,
“God will we serve and worship him alone!”

Moses, to Sinai's top again ascends,
And bears the vow of Israel. Whilst he bends,

279

With reverence, at the presence of the Lord,
Messiah thus began. “Hear thou my word!
“Th' appointed time is come, when Man shall know
“More of my will, and walk in faith below.
“Darkness, or glimmering shade, a cheerless night,
“Long hath prevail'd, but now in rapid flight,
“The clouds disperse, th' appointed morn is nigh,
“Forerunner of a fair and cloudless sky!
“I, from this mount, my statutes will declare,
“And thou, to earth, th' eternal law shalt bear.
“Hence! To thy Brethren! When three days are past,
“Sinai shall clouds obscure. The trumpet blast
“Shall wake dismay, then ('mid perplexing fear)
“Upon this hill, alone, once more appear.”

The second day is o'er. The third draws nigh.
The sun sinks glorious in the western sky.
Israel expects the hour (whilst dread they feel)
When Man shall hear, and God his voice reveal.
All night, like ship-wreck'd mariners, forlorn,
With anxious eye, they watch the glimmering morn.
Ah! now the dawn appears! Moses exclaims,
“The hour is come! I see the kindling flames
“On Sinai! Ere I seek Jehovah there,
“To answer truths severe your hearts prepare!

280

“Say! will you worship God, and him obey?
“Will you to naught but Him your homage pay?
“Nor bow to forms, on earth, that bound or creep,
“Things in the air, or 'mid the trackless deep?”
All answer'd. “Who to idle forms shall bend,
“Let him be stoned, alike, or foe, or friend!”
The trumpet speaks! Moses, to all around,
Solemn, pursued. “I hear the summons sound!
“I, to yon hill, with prostrate heart, repair
“To hear what God to mortals will declare.
“Behold from far! Let not the beast come nigh,
“Nor touch you Sinai, smoking, lest you die!”
No tongue replies. Israel, at distance, stands,
Dismay'd by fears obscure. With clasped hands,
And eyes fast fix'd on Sinai, now they see
Moses ascend to meet the Deity.

The volleying smoke expands, o'er Sinai spread,
Whilst the gloom, deep'ning, veils his awful head.
Dark clouds, augmenting, shoot their sable line
Thro' half the firmament, in direful sign,
Portentous! From the night-envelop'd brow,
The fervid flame, ascends, unheard, and now,
With aggravated fury, in wild flight,
Stupendous fires burst upward, thro' the night,

281

Still spreading, kindling yet intenser fears,
Till the wide element one flame appears!
As Silence, her soul-lulling influence, flings
O'er Heaven, and earth, and all created things,
The trumpet, from the deep-red fire, out-pours
Its withering blast, as when the ocean roars,
In hour of fury: dying now away,
Lightnings come forth in their august array,
And from the mountain's head, in awful glare,
(Whilst thunders, still augmenting, rend the air)
Shoot their mad fires. Appall'd at sight and sound,
Earth trembles, whilst thick darkness gathers round!

On Sinai's head, 'mid smoke and voices loud,
In prostrate adoration, Moses bow'd,
And in his spirit felt, how vain, how light,
What dust was Man, in Heaven's all-piercing sight.
Jehovah, from the cloud of darkness, spake.
“Child of the earth! for my own mercy's sake,
“I give thee these Commandments! Go! and tell,
“If Israel, with their Lord, at last, would dwell,
“With Patriarchs and Prophets, let them prize
“These Statutes, and a fleeting world despise.

282

“Thou shalt confess no other God but me!
To Idols vain thou shalt not bend the knee!
No Graven Image, form of wood or stone,
Shall have thy homage, I am God alone!
Take not my Name in vain! With awe profound,
Tremble at Him who gave the stars their bound,
Omnipotent! the contrite sinner's friend!
In whom all live and move, on whom depend!
Reverence the Sabbath Day! Six days are thine
To toil for this vain world; with thoughts divine
Redeem the fleeting Seventh. Exalt thine eye,
From finite objects, to eternity!
And still remember, Mortal, thou must Die!
Honour thy Father! Let thy Mother stand
High in thy sight! It is thy God's command!
So shall my blessings rest upon thy head,
And when thy parents, long revered, are dead,
Thy children shall arise, and pay to thee
The love thou gav'st to them, and duteous be.
So shalt thou live, in concord, long, and love,
But longer in the world of bliss above.
Thou shalt not Kill! Whoe'er his hand imbrue
In blood of man, shall man, to death, pursue!
(Of heaven and earth abhorr'd!) his righteous due!

283

Be Chaste, for I am Holy! Ever fly
Adult'ry, as the crime of deepest dye!
Thou shalt not Steal! Abased and vile is he
Who wrongs his Brother, tho' a mite it be!
Be kind to all! Thou shalt not witness bear,
Falsely, against thy neighbour! for my care
Rests on the injured. Men of slanderous voice
Shall never in another's praise rejoice!
Desire thy Neighbour's Good, but covet not!
If lofty be thy state, or mean thy lot,
From God it sprang. Chance hath no place on earth!
Life's wide vicissitudes, thy death, thy birth,
I, at the first, ordain'd, who cannot err,
Wherefore that man my anger shall incur
Who would deprive his Brother of his right,
Or covet aught, in which he takes delight,
(Source of unceasing jar, and bitter strife)
His ox, his ass, his servant, house, or wife!”

Jehovah ceas'd. O'erwhelm'd with light, his mind
Moses, to trance, and vision deep, resign'd.
Scenes of celestial splendour pass before!
And now he wakes to earthly scenes once more!

284

BOOK XVI.

Moses.

The moon had waned, and wax'd, and waned, again,
Since Moses left th' abodes of busy men,
And (privileg'd) on Sinai's burning hill,
Communed with Heaven and learnt his Maker's will.
By that Almighty Power that knows no bound,
Which form'd the sun, the moon, the stars around,
Which call'd from nothing all things into light,
And with a word might send them back to night,
Jehovah, his Commandments stoop'd to grave
Upon a stone, and to his servant gave.
“Take it!” he cried. “Let earth my Statutes know!”
Moses obey'd, and Israel sought below.

285

The boisterous mirth is heard! the timbrel's strain!
Laughter, long-lengthen'd, with the shout profane.
The dance, the song, all Israel's tribes present!
While deaf'ning tumults fill the firmament!
Moses, misgiving, trembles to draw near!
Oh! sanctified of Heaven! not vain thy fear.
From Sinai's mount, which scarce hath ceas'd to shine,
Thou comest down, from intereourse divine,
And, with devotion's holy spirit fired,
With thoughts of Heaven, with love to man inspired:
Oh, sight of woe! Thy Brethren, late, so awed
By Sinai smoking, and the voice of God,
All have renounc'd their fears, their faith in Heaven!
And, to a Calf! their frantic worship given!
The altar burns! The Idol lifts its head,
To whom, their hands, the dancing Hebrews spread!
Shouting aloud, “Behold! Our God we raise!
“He brought us forth from Egypt! Him we praise!”

Moses exclaim'd, (whilst on his aged cheek
The rolling tears his anguish'd heart bespeak!)
“Oh! hour of dread! Oh! day of woe supreme!
“Is it a phantom! would it were a dream!

288

All answer'd, “We have sinned, and turn'd aside
“From God, our Father's confidence and guide;
“But he is merciful, and we will now
“These his Commandments keep, nor ever bow,
“Idolatrous, to Idols, stock or stone!
“God will we serve, and worship him alone!

Thro' scenes, some joyful, some where cares oppress,
Now, to the borders of the wilderness,
Israel draws near! The cautious Spies are sent
To search out Canaan. These their course have bent
Thro' various climes, and, now, returning, stand
To tell their progress thro' the Promised Land.

“It is a goodly region wide and fair!
“All things that living man can want are there!
“Pomegranates, olives, figs, like dust, are found;
“Fruits bend the trees, while corn and oil abound!
“Grapes hang luxuriant, thick as drops of dew!
“Behold these clusters! brought with toil to you!”
They said, and shew'd the ponderous grapes they bore.
The Hebrews shouted, “God will we adore!
“He promised us his aid, as we advance,
“And Canaan is our own inheritance!”

289

Once more the spies. “But tho' the land is good,
“And grateful brooks prevail, and plenteous food,
“Yet is there cause of dread. Giants are there!
“The Sons of Anak huge, no captives spare
“Their looks are terrible! Their arms are strong!
“Their swords, ensheath'd in gore, are sharp and long!
“And there are Ammonites, a warlike race!
“Who Israel's puny bands, like wolves, would chase
“There Jebusites and Hittites proud abound!
“Amalekites, for slaughter far renown'd!”
“Tell us no more!” cried Korah. “Let us here
“Lie down and die, nor dare provoke the spear
“Of these fierce nations, with their untried powers!
“Canaan is not, and never will be ours!”

“Hold!” Moses cried. “Who led us thro' the sea?
“Who brake the yoke of our captivity?
“Can man's weak arm retard what God ordains?
“The warrior's beam-like spear, the tyrant's chains,
“All melt at his command! Can aught be hard
“To Him, whom all the Hosts of Heaven regard?
“Whose voice the Morning Star, rejoicing, knows,
“Who spake, and, lo! this beauteous world arose?

290

“Jehovah leads us on, our hope, our stay,
“And we will brave all terrors in our way!”

When Caleb thus. “In strength divine we go,
“Nor will we stoop to fear our deadliest foe!”
“Abiram, interposing, utter'd loud,
(Upheld by Dathan, the austere, the proud,)
“Oh! men! we will not go! If die we must,
“Here will we perish! Here repose our dust!”
The list'ning Tribes exclaim'd. “We will not go!
“Giants, and men of stature are our foe!
“The fury of whose spear would lay us low.”

Moses replied. “Sorrows, and fearful dread,
“Grow with my years, and bend my aged head!
“You covel ill. The good which God would give,
“You seek not, and would rather die than live!
“Rebellious race! Not for your sakes alone
“Hath God so oft his hand protecting shewn!
“Your sons shall rise, o'erwhelm'd with deep distress,
“And mourn your manners in this wilderness!”

Dathan approaching cried, opprest with rage,
“Tell us no more of Israel's heritage!

291

“Of Heaven's protection! Promised lands, divine,
“Which flow with milk and honey, corn and wine!
“All is the phantom of thy o'ercharged brain!
“Better had we have borne the captive's chain,
“Than (trusting to thy words, oh, Israel's scorn!)
“Have come to perish, 'mid these wilds forlorn!”
When thus Abiram. “Since thy rule began,
“Thou hast assumed too much, Oh! aged Man!
“And time it is that those who round thee throng,
“Should lead thee now, whom thou hast led too long!”

The still small whisper spake in Moses' ear!
He knew the voice, and ceased to grieve or fear.
“Soon shall be seen,” he cried, “'mid strange dismay,
“Who is to rule, and who is to obey.
“Upon the coming morn your Censers bring!
“Fire shall they bear. Before our Heavenly King,
“Jehovah, Lord of Hosts! we all will stand,
“Each with the flaming Symbol in his hand;
“And then it shall be known, as noon-tide clear,
“Whom God ordains to lead his People here!”
Korah replied. “Oh, Man! we hail the hour,
“That shall complete our joy, and end thy power!”

292

The morning comes. Without the camp, remain
Korah, Abiram, Dathan, with their train
Of fierce revolters. To th' appointed place
Moses advances, whilst upon his face,
A light appear'd, mysterious, that bespake
Converse with Him, who soon to wrath would wake!
The Prophet thus began: “If God, our guide,
“Be not this hour, of Israel, magnified;
“If he (memorial dread!) upon this day,
“Shew not how awful to resist his sway,
“Then let me perish! Me, let all despise,
“Sink like a fallen star, no more to rise!
“Come forth!” he said, to those who round await,
“Leave yonder Host, devoted, to their fate!”

The Gazers, fast retiring, leave behind
Dathan, and his companions. Stout of mind,
And spirit fearless, they disdainful cry,
And scoffing, “Haste! Oh, Cowards! Haste, or die!”
A sudden pause intense pervades the scene!
Each gazed, with breath suspended; what might mean
These sights, unknowing, whilst Abiram's crew
Revilings pour'd, and taunts insulting threw.
Ah! hour of woe! No longer shall you dare
Jehovah's Power! A whirlwind fills the air!

293

The Earth expands! and, 'mid the central roar,
The Impious Race all sink to rise no more!

Around the Man of God, with spirit bow'd,
The Princes and the Fathers, bending, crowd.
“Oh, pray!” they cried, “Jehovah, Lord of All!
“To stay his anger. We before him fall,
“Confess how vile we are, our sins deplore,
“And vow, henceforth, to trust him and adore!”
Moses replied. “His wrath is turned aside!
“God, from free mercy, still will be your guide!”

What sounds are those? Now utter'd soft and slow!
Now rising, like the wind! The voice of woe!
Lo! through the Camp of Israel, Serpents glide,
Dealing the mortal wound on every side!
The winged speed is theirs, the fiery mail!
And, all around, amaze and death prevail!

“Save us!” the Elders loud, to Moses cry.
“Of God implore deliverance, or we die!”
“I know the cause!” the Man of God replied,
“These are ordain'd to scourge you for your pride!
“Your hearts rebellious! Sin will ever find,
“As it would flee, God's judgments close behind!

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“A cure I now proclaim.” He said and rear'd
A Brazen Serpent, of the form they fear'd.
“Behold this sign!” he said, “of Heaven reveal'd,
“And each, in faith, who views it, shall be heal'd!”
On the uplifted Serpent ('mid their pain)
All gaze, who feel the venom in their vein,
And find, as on the sight of joy they hang,
New life infused, and freedom from their pang!

Moses exclaim'd, to earnest crowds around,
(Who from impending death, deliverance found)
“For all the maladies frail Men endure,
“This is an emblem of the glorious cure,
“Hereafter to be known, when those who view
“That Holy One, upraised for me and you,
“With all who worship God, shall find within,
“Meetness for Heaven, a hatred deep of sin,
“And (thro' another's righteousness) adore,
“In realms of light, Jehovah, evermore!
“Receive, with joy, this tender dawn of grace!
“This glimpse of hope, for Man's revolted race!”

Amid the deep, the silent watch of night,
Moses beheld a Vision! In his sight

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Messiah stood and spake. “Thy end is near!
“Soon must thou quit this dark benighted sphere,
“And in a nobler world, 'mid Seraphim,
“Praises to God, Most High, unceasing hymn!
“Joshua appoint, my people, to command,
“And lead, o'er Jordan, to the promised land!
“Warn Israel, that this howling desert, wide,
“Soon will be past; (their sorrows fast subside)
“That, Canaan, region fair, of milk and oil,
“Soon will reward them for their lengthen'd toil.
“The portion of each tribe, divide, e'en here.
“Warn them of idols. Teach them me to fear.
“Then up to Pisgah's towering head repair,
“And thou shalt die! and I will bless thee there!”
Moses, in reverence bow'd. The Vision fled!
Whilst night and silence still around were spread.

Ere morn, in all her full refulgence, brake,
Moses, the Elders call'd, when thus he spake,
“Forty long years, no stranger to distress,
“You have I guided thro' this wilderness,
“And now my sojourn ends! O'er Jordan's tide,
“Joshua shall lead you. He shall be your guide.
“On him Jehovah's spirit hence shall rest,
“And God by him his power shall manifest.

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“Tho' I have never stood on Canaan's land,
“Before my eyes its varied scenes expand.
“I know its evil sons, 'gainst mercy steel'd!
“This, to my heart, hath God himself reveal'd.
“Led on by Joshua, valiant man and wise,
“Above all foes, and hinderance, you shall rise.
“You, in Almighty strength, shall kings appal,
“Whilst Canaan's cities one by one shall fall!
“Abominations spread from shore to shore!
“The cup of crime is full, it runneth o'er!
“Pity, so lovely! here no place shall find!
“Compassion, tear relentless from your mind!
“You are ordain'd, tho' spotless not your worth,
“To sweep these sinful nations from the earth!”

Thus having said, to every tribe, he gave,
(From the great river, to the western wave)
Its future habitation: told, that day,
What hills, and rivers round its borders lay:
Warn'd them afresh, with all the Prophet's fire,
To slay the Canaanite, the Son, the Sire,
Yea, all which they possest! Memorial dread,
To be, by Man, to latest ages read!
Moses now cried. “Have I, this hour, declare!
“Since Heaven, you, first, committed to my care,

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“Wrong'd any, or whilst grief your heart opprest,
“Turn'd the cold ear, or shew'd the callous breast?
“Have not I mourn'd with you, Oh, Children dear!
“And dropt, at all your woes, a Father's tear?”
Joshua exclaim'd. “Our Guardian and our Friend,
“Thee shall all hearts revere, till life shall end:
“Thy meekness, and thy faith will we proclaim,
“And think of thee, and ever bless thy name!”
All Israel cried. “Thy faith will we proclaim,
“And think of thee! and ever bless thy name!”

“In such an hour,” the Man of God replied,
“Not idle words are mine. Death's rolling tide
“Fast hastens! Life appears an empty dream!
“Its joys, its cares, all like a shadow seem!
“A vapour, passing on! a broken wave!
“All but that hope which lives beyond the grave!
“Oh! hour of joy! the warfare soon will cease!
“The conflict end! the pilgrim be at peace!
“Hear me, my Sons! my Children! Evermore
“Serve God, the source of good, and him adore!
“Spurn all the heathen's idols from your sight!
“Be you, the heirs of truth, the sons of light!
“And if of grief you drink, and sore dismay,
“Whilst wandering thro' life's rough and stormy way!

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“Lift not the murmuring voice, but ever say,
“Rule thou, Oh, God! and teach me to obey!
“Now, fare ye well! On Pisgah's towering head,
“With faith unshaken, I, alone, will tread.
“There shall I rest my bones! There joyful leave
“This evil world, and, with the saints, receive
“That better heritage, ordain'd and pure,
“Which shall with Heaven, with God himself endure!
“Farewell!” again he cried, when, passing on,
A mild, and lambent glory round him shone!
Whilst Israel wept aloud, both Sons and Sires!
Pisgah, he calm ascends, and there expires!

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BOOK XVII.

Samuel. Saul. David anointed.

O'er-canopied by glory, flaming far,
Messiah (with the clouds of Heaven his car)
Gazed thro' futurity: beheld each clime,
The range of human things, the sweep of time.
A thousand winged Seraphim around,
Watch on their Lord and bow with awe profound;
Waiting, to feel permission, in their mind,
To ask of earth, and time, and human-kind.
Gabriel now spake.

“Oh! Thou, the fount of light!
“In power supreme, in wisdom infinite!

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“May Creature, form'd by Thee, be given to look
“Into the Age Unborn? that sealed book,
“Save when thou openest! May we now inquire!
“(As late the chariot and the horse of fire,
“Have Moses borne to bliss) what more, below,
“In yon fall'n world, shall rise, of sin and woe?
“Oh, Say! How long must we in doubt remain,
“The shout, the Halleluia loud, restrain;
“And cease to hail, Oh! Majesty adored!
“Redeemed Man, to Thee and Heaven restored!”

Messiah, while the Angel veil'd his face,
Thus answer made. “For Man's apostate race,
“Mercy (within my secret thought) remains!
“But he must bear, for time, and times, his chains!
“One flash o'er dark futurity I dart!
“Not yet the hour, tho' love is in my heart,
“To baffle hell! Tumultuous scenes must rise!
“Were I to pour the future on thine eyes,
“Disclose the complex waves that onward roll,
“The maze mysterious would o'erwhelm thy soul!
“Thus much receive.—Succeeding men shall live,
“To whom, my word, my spirit, I will give,
“Till, from the Sheep Cote, I will one prepare,
“My name, my praise, to sing, my image bear!

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“After my heart, of all the sons of earth,
“He most shall rise! This Servant, from his birth,
“At Bethlehem (where other scenes I view!)
“Satan, with rage relentless, will pursue;
“With machination dark, the strife maintain,
“And he will fall—but, falling, rise again!
“I will his fetters break, his spirit own!
“And he shall rise to sit on Israel's Throne.”

The Seraphs pause, impatient to behold
More of what deeds the future may unfold.
Messiah thus again.

“Scenes hasten fast!
“O'er these, awhile, the mystic veil I cast.
“Prospects now opening, first, will I bestow.
“I send you, Heralds, to the world below.
“My influence hath reach'd you! Forth descend
“To seek the lost, the desolate defend;
“With happiness, opprest, of heavenly kind,
“Succour the tempted, cheer the sinking mind,
“And, with especial vigilance behold
“(The heavenly Shepherd I!) my Sheep! my Fold!
“Guard them thro' day, their every foe confound!
“In helpless hours of midnight watch around!

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“Thro' perils guide them! Break each secret snare!
“When Pestilence, in darkness, walks the air,
“Let them be safe, and all be overpast,
“Who seek, in me, a refuge from the blast!
“But chiefly lead the Righteous by the hand,
“When, all alone, by Jordan's flood, they stand;
“Infuse a foretaste of the joys that wait!
“Their hopes enlarge! their terrors dissipate!
“Thro' the dark valley, all are doom'd to tread,
“My delegated arms beneath them spread,
“And when, at length, the mortal strife is o'er,
“Convoy their spirits to our heavenly shore
“Where they shall drink of bliss for evermore!
“Messiah's Providence, erelong, will shine.
“Ten thousand messages of love divine,
“Soon will be yours, now dimly understood,
“To counteract the ill, to work the good!
“I act in you, my Father acts in me,
“Good, thro' all worlds, is one wide harmony,
“The Fountain, God! the Great Infinity!
“No further ask! In me confide alone,
“Whose paths are in the deep! whose ways unknown!”
Messiah ceased. The Seraphs downward sped,
Each, in the path appointed prompt to tread!

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Whilst kings and mighty men before them fled,
Israel hath Jordan past, by Joshua led.
In vain the hostile warriors hurl the lance,
The heathen nations melt as they advance.
And now, whilst God his mighty arm hath shewn,
Triumphant, Israel, Canaan, calls her own.
Joshua, in honours grey, to death goes down!
Inspired by Faith, he sees the starry crown
Prepared of Heaven, with Angels beckoning round,
And spurns the earth with an immortal bound.

Age fast revolves on age. Good men arise
Who love their Maker, who his statutes prize,
And prove that trust in God, that holy flame,
No phantom is, nor unsubstantial name.
Samuel now holds the censer, and displays
How just he rules, how even are his ways,
Who falsehood hates, each sin that doth defile,
And knows no joy but in his Maker's smile.

The Sons of Israel now near Samuel crowd.
“Hear us! Oh, reverend Sire!” they shout aloud.
“Grant us a King! Like all the nations round
“Let one, by thee, from Israel's tribes, be crown'd.”

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The Prophet answer'd. “Quench your towering pride!
“God is your King! Jehovah is your Guide!”
“Nay, but a King we want!” again they spake.
“Father! thy oil prepare, thy censer take!
“Look thou, this day, thro' all our tribes, and see
“Who best will rule, and we will faithful be!”
“If you reject your God, nor own his sway,
“And rather seek some mortal to obey,
“That King, with none to censure, none to chide,
“Will bend your heads, and on your necks will ride!”
“Nay! but a King we want!” again they cried.

Samuel, to Heaven directs the prayer. “This day
“Great Lord of all! make plain my dubious way!”
Messiah near him stood. “Lift up thy head!
“Oh, Servant of the Highest!” thus he said,
“A King will I provide. The people, near,
“Send them away! Erelong and shall appear
“Who shall the throne ascend. The spirit's voice
“Shall guide thy footsteps and direct thy choice!”

Great things, alone, attract Man's lordly eye,
While all that humble is, he passes by;
But God, whose thought the raging wave can still,
The meanest things oft takes to work his will!

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“Go!” to his Son, Old Kish, impatient, cried.
“Our asses long have stray'd, perhaps have died!
“Seek them; our wealth they are, and 'till thou learn,
“Some tidings, Oh, my Son! do not return.”
Saul, at his Father's words obedient rose,
To Shalem now, and now to Ephraim goes;
Now stretches on thro' Zuph, and now, with pain,
Inquires of Benjamin, but asks in vain.
“I will return!” he said, “Lest it should be,
“My Sire the asses leave, and mourn for me.”

Unwitting now near Samuel's tent he stood!
“Him will I seek,” he cried, “perchance for good.”
He views a Damsel train their pitchers bear,
And hast'ning up, began. “Oh, Maids! declare,
“Where dwells the Seer.” They answer'd, “Raise thine eyes.
“E'en Samuel now attends yon sacrifice!”

Entering the city, with a traveller's speed,
Samuel comes forth to bid the victim bleed!
Beholding Saul, he said. “I look'd for thee,
“And thou, this day, must eat thy bread with me.”
Before the Prophet, Saul now wondering stands!
When Samuel thus. “Hearthou the Lord's commands!

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“Thee hath God chosen, Israel's throne to fill!
“Thee, her first King. It is Jehovah's will!”
Saul answer'd, “Wherefore power to me ascribe?
“I am of Benjamin, that meanest tribe;
“Ordain'd to sink (with every age decreas'd)
“And of the whole, my Father's house the least.
“Turn to some nobler man.” The Prophet cried,
“O'er Israel, thou shalt bear dominion wide!
“Mayst thou for ever, Son! as now, present
“The humble mind, that heavenly ornament!
“Obedient, stoop!” Saul lowly bow'd his head.
When o'er his crown the sacred oil he spread.
Samuel again. “Back to thy Father go,
“And God thy future path shall let thee know!”

Thro' Israel's tribes, the mournful voice is heard!
“Death!” “Death!” aloud, that spirit-searching word!
The Ammonites advance, a fearful band,
Breathing the threat, and wasting wide the land!
Jabesh, while feeling in his heart despair,
Trembling goes forth, and cries, “Oh, warriors, spare!”
“Upon these terms!” th' invading Monarch cries.
“Give me, even all, your right, your precious eyes,
“That I may thus, Oh, Men! your tribes chastise!”

307

“Grantmeseven days!” (said Jabesh) “Warrior, great!
“To ponder on thy words, and mourn our state!”
“Yielded!” th'imperious Nahash, fierce, replied,
“And then my vengeance shall be satisfied!”

Slow, from the wilderness (his flock before)
Saul passes on. Crowds, all around, deplore
Their weight of sorrow. “What,” (he them address'd)
“Prompts these your tears, when all, from warfare rest?”
“The tidings hear!” they answer'd. “Nahash, proud,
“Stands on our borders! With the trumpet, loud,
“Whilst countless chariots near him crowd, he cries,
“‘Choose you this day between your death and eyes!’”

Instant, in Saul, a fire unwonted burns,
His spirit (roused) the threat degrading spurns!
“Fear not!” he utter'd. “With the Lord our trust,
“We will consume, and tread them down to dust!”
Thus speaking, Saul, the yoke of oxen slays!
He hews them into pieces, and displays

308

Upon a hundred spears, the symbol dread!
“Fly!” he exclaim'd. “The diverse path each tread!
“Call on all Israel to assemble here!
“Tell them that slavery or death is near!
“Say to each coward base, of woman born,
“So shall thy heart be hewn' thy country's scorn!”

Like wrecks, that to the roaring whirlpool glide,
Thousands to Saul approach on every side.
Beholding the vast host of warriors bold,
(Too proud to stoop, too valiant to be sold!)
Saul lifts his voice. “Fear not ye sons of might!
“Ammon, this day, shall perish in our sight
“What should we fear, tho' myriads round contend,
“Arm'd in our country's cause, and God our friend?”
All shouted. “Saul, our leader, lo! we own!
“Soon shall be seen our raging foes o'erthrown!”
Thus saying, Israel's armies, bold, advance
To dart the spear, and hurl the furious lance!

Saul, stately as the pine that waves its head
On proud Libanus, 'mid the general dread,
Stands fearless. Ammon's hosts are strew'd around,
Thick as the hoar frost, on the morning ground.

309

The dawn yet told the rising sun at hand,
When Israel's armies wait their chief's command.
“Haste!” Saul exclaim'd. “Fight manfully, and show
“How we, arous'd by freedom, meet our foe!”
The strife begins! Saul, with a lion's rage,
Dares, young or old, (to fury wrought) engage.
On either hand, where'er his steps appear,
Vengeance her banner spreads, and death is near.
Proud Nahash flies! His Sons are seen aghast,
Speeding like leaves before th' autumnal blast.

The trumpet sounds! Around their Leader, now,
All Israel's valiant tribes obeisant bow.
“Thee, will we serve!” they cried. “Some men there be
“Who vow'd, to Saul, never to bend the knee.
“Bring hither these our foes! Upon this day,
“Such, 'mid the voice of scorn, shall Israel slay!”
Saul answer'd, “Hold! This hour, from God, Most High,
“We have received the glorious victory!
“Let prayer, let praise be heard! Revenge' shrill voice,
“Ill would accord, when hearts in God rejoice!”
The captains cry. “Fruit of well-earn'd renown,
“Thou shalt the sceptre wield, and wear the crown!”

310

Exulting, now, to Gilgal, Saul they bear,
And Samuel crowns him King o'er Israel there.

Should favours (undeserv'd) of none be felt?
Should blessings harden which were sent to melt?
Gifts, like a stream, attend us all our days,
And not the giver wake one thought of praise?
Should men record no heart-contracted debt,
And those who most receive, the first forget?
Oh! human heart, perverted! Such a sight
Thou hast display'd, since Eden took her flight!
Saul, call'd to govern, from a low estate,
Forgets how mean he was, his change how great!
Fosters the proud presumption in his soul,
And to his own deserts ascribes the whole!
Each day displays, while all, the change regard,
The look more haughty, and the heart more hard!

In ranks unnumber'd, and in war array,
Philistines, fierce, advance to meet the fray!
Roused from his bed of sloth, in wild surprise,
Saul calls on Israel's valiant hosts to rise.
Prompt to obey their Monarch, men of might,
And countless, crowd around to meet the fight.

311

Saul, with the frown austere, indignant cried,
“In hour, like this, where doth the Prophet hide?
“To Samuel fly! Tell him, as he would dare
“Saul's anger, hither, instant, to repair!
“We must behold the altar's blazing fire
“Smiles to obtain from our Almighty Sire!”

The warlike hosts on different hills are seen,
Whilst far beneath the valley spreads between.
Saul lifts his voice. “The Prophet, where is he?
“Who hangs behind, this hour, no friend can be!
“Light up the fire! The victim I will slay
“And for success from Heaven, a King shall pray!”

The Priest is Saul alone! The knee he bends!
The victim bleeds, whose smoke to Heaven ascends!
Samuel advances now! when, thus, he spake.
“What hast thou done, Oh, Saul?” To wrath awake,
The Monarch answer'd. “Long for thee I sought!
“Should Kings for Prophets wait? Noimpiousthought,
“I deem'd that I might bid the flame arise,
“And give, unblamed, to God, the sacrifice!”

“Thou hast done wrong!” the Prophet answer'd, slow,
“And this presumptuous deed—will work thee woe!

312

“Where was thy faith? Unhallow'd fire was thine!
“Thou didst not hear the still, small Voice Divine!
“Hath not He power, whose right it is to reign,
“To send his Servant now—and now refrain?
“Oh, Saul! Prosperity hath been thy bane!
“I have a message sent from God, on High,
“Thy heart is turn'd aside! The humble cry,
“No longer, and the prayer, devout, ascend!
“Thou hast forgotten thine Almighty Friend!
“Whilst pride and passion (ruthless tyrants) hold
“Dominion in thy breast! I now unfold
“The Future! Hear and tremble! God hath shewn
“That he will take from Saul—even Israel's Throne!
“And to Another give (whose heart is true)
“His Kingdom, who will yield him honour due!”
Thus having said, with dignity severe,
He turn'd—whilst Saul, heart-smitten, dropt his spear!

From Gilgal Samuel now directs his feet,
When Jonathan, the brave, (as racer fleet)
Speeds after him and cries. “Oh, Sage revered!
“Loved of all Good, and but by Evil fear'd,
“Let me one favour ask, nor ask in vain!
“Oh! spare my Sire! Oh, let him live and reign!

313

Samuel replied. “My Son, no choice is mine!
“I hear, and I obey the Voice Divine!
“Such is Heaven's Will! The Throne so late possest,
“God hath decreed, whose ways in clouds are drest,
“Must fall from Saul, and One, obscure, sustain
“Thy Father's sceptre, and o'er Israel reign!”
Low bending, Jonathan, to grief awake,
Mourn'd in his spirit, though no word he spake.
The Prophet thus again: “Men, here below,
“Seek pomp and power, with state and gaudy shew,
“And, as some glittering bauble passes by,
“Send forth the rapturous gaze, the ardent sigh,
“Craving the fancied good; more brief, more frail
“Than flower, or sound fast passing on the gale!
“Often, what Men desire, they least would seek,
“If past possessors from the Grave might speak!
“Men see the Monarch's crown, yet little know
“What gathering cares corroding round it flow!
“Be wise, and let the future fix thine eye!
“Seek the Chief Good, the joys that never die!”
Young Jonathan now makes the Better Choice:
At Samuel's words he felt his heart rejoice,
And still he paused to hear the Prophet's voice.
The Man of God pursued.

314

“Thou hast above,
“In Realms of Happiness, in Worlds of Love,
“Thy best Inheritance! Soon wilt thou there
“Look down and smile upon thy mortal care!
“God is thy Friend. Fear not, yon haughty foe,
“Dealing vain threat! I see him melt like snow,
“And thou who weep'st shalt give the deadly blow!
“Thou, with thine Armour-Bearer, ere the shade
“Of morn hath vanish'd, haste, of none afraid!
“Fall on the Heathen! Thou shalt see that day,
“Their Warrior Sons, like wax, dissolve away!”
In sorrow, Jonathan, his bosom prest,
Then cried, “Oh, Sire! farewell! With heart at rest
“I leave thee. May my hopes be all divine,
“And, after death, thy heritage be mine!”

“Come forth!” cried Jonathan, to one beside,
His Armour-Bearer. “I will be thy guide.”
Philistines, they (in th' twilight hour,) assail.
The panic strikes the Foe! With visage pale,
Each man deals death around him! Wider still
The strife, destructive spreads: From hill to hill
It rages, where no friend his friend will spare!
No Brother, Brother screen. Wide waste is there!

315

The Hebrews wondering gaze! They see the fight,
Extending like a whirlwind on their sight.
And, hastening back, to God ascribe the day,
Before whose presence mountains melt away.

In silent meditation, Samuel stood,
Musing on earthly ill, and earthly good,
So fleeting, so uncertain! When there came,
On wings that flash'd th' unimagin'd flame,
A Spirit! Samuel look'd with gifted sight!
He heard a voice. “With thee, Oh, Man, is night!
“I move in day! The end distinct I see,
“And what on Earth I order, that must be!
“Once more on Saul's obedience I will call,
“Speed, and proclaim that Amalek must fall!
“Warn him to spoil his land, the waste to spread,
“And count that Son of Belial with the dead!
“Let the whole land, let man, let cattle bleed!
“That Earth, the awful judgment, long may read!
“If he obey, he still shall wear the crown!
“If he refuse, my wrath shall tread him down!”

Samuel to Saul advances. In his state,
The Monarch sat. Dancers around him wait!

316

The Singers chant! The Minstrels' strains ascend!
Whilst crowds repeat the loud “All Hail!” and bend!
The Prophet old, uncurs'd with fear of man,
Walks firmly to the King, and thus began:
“Oh! Saul. I bear a message from the sky!
“Agag the vile, and all his House, must die!
“Their crimes, their impious rites, in dread career,
“Have reach'd to Heav'n, and vengeance now is near!
“God hath appointed thee his sword to wield!
“Equip thine Armed Host, with spear and shield,
“Go forth to war! If thou would'st Heaven obey,
“This whole devoted race, unsparing slay!
Saul grasp'd his sword and answered. “I will haste
“To Agag—land, and man, and cattle, waste!
“Thus proving to the Lord, on whom I wait,
“How true are my deserts, my faith how great!”

With shout and martial pomp, to meet his foes,
Saul, at the trumpet's voice, obedient goes.
Th' Amalekites (prepared for their defence,
And trusting in their King, their confidence,
While viewing spear and chariot spread afar)
Breathe loud defiance, and await the war.
The combat waxes hot! The Heathen fall
Before the sword of Israel and of Saul!

317

Agag is beaten down. With weeping eyes,
“Oh! spare thy slave!” the prostrate captive cries.

Young Jonathan, approaching, thus began:
“Whom hast thou spared from death? O! faithless man!
“Who to thy seat for justice ever came?
“What starving stranger ever bless'd thy name?
“What sorrowing captive ever thought of thee
“While drinking deep, the Cup of Misery?”
Saul answered. “Son! the rule is mine alone.
“Thy Father sits supreme on Israel's throne!
“Agag shall live! He round my car shall wait,
“And dogs shall dwell—with one of late so great!”
Humbly thus Jonathan replied, “Oh, Sire!
“What said the Prophet? What doth God require?
Saul answered. “Cease! or from my presence flee!
“Without command, to reign, is not for me!
“Agag shall live! and though the people die,
“(And Samuel, frowning, my reward deny)
“I from these flocks will all my wants supply.

Samuel draws near! (Saul, with the starting eyes,
Beholds him, whilst the flush of anger dies!)
Thus he began. “Hast thou obey'd His Will,
“Whose smiles, like Hermon, honied dews distil?”

318

Saul answered. “Bless'd of God, and reverenc'd still,
“I have obey'd Jehovah's sovereign Will!”
Samuel again. “Whence then do sounds arise,
“Like those which follow some great sacrifice!
“The groan, at hand, sent as from sorrow deep,
“The lowing oxen, and the bleating sheep!”
Confounded, half resentful, Saul replied,
“Why should a King the truth from mortal hide?
“I nothing spared, save Agag. For their toil,
“The people spared the choicest of their spoil,
“Oxen and Sheep. Thence do the sounds arise,
“And these shall bleed in some near sacrifice!”

Samuel replied. “Whilst standing with the base,
“Obscure, unknown, without a name or place,
“Did not the Lord, to fill some deep design,
“Call thee to Rule? Was not obedience thine?
“Say! did not He, whom all the stars obey,
“Bid thee, in Samuel's voice, go forth and slay,
“Unsparing, men with every crime opprest,
“Their Sons, theirKing, yea all that they possest?
“Why, on the spoils, didst thou rebellious fly?
“Why spare the Man whom God ordain'd to die?”
Saul trembling said. “Blameless thy Servant stands,
“The People, they withstood the Lord's commands!”

319

The Prophet answered. “Needs it to be said,
“How vain is Sacrifice, the hands outspread,
“While disobedience lingers in the heart,
“And men, for God, refuse with sin to part!”
Saul answer'd, as the glow of anger came,
“Withhold thy frown! Thy Monarch cease to blame!
“He hath obey'd, save in minute degree,
“Enough for Heaven, tho' not enough for thee!”
Samuel replied. “I have a word to say.
“Since thou wilt not Jehovah's voice obey,
“God shall upraise (to whom all knees shall bow)
“Another to thy throne, more true than thou!”

Saul, who, one moment past, with fearless eye,
Would fain have hurl'd defiance at the sky,
Sinks from his eminence, and trembling cries,
“Oh! spare me! spare me! Turn once more thine eyes!
“Pardon thy suppliant! Pride hath fill'd my breast!
“But I am now in dust and sack-cloth drest!
“Is there no hope? Oh! turn and let me see
“The look, once more, benign, of clemency!”
With brow unalter'd, bending slow his head,
“I must not! dare not turn!” the Prophet said.
“Thee hath the Lord rejected! To thy throne,
“One will erelong arise, who God will own.

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Saul, with the look of ill-supprest disdain,
Thus answer'd. “If my prayer, Oh, Man! be vain,
“Tho' faithless to my God, to thee untrue,
“Give me, before the people, reverence due.”
When Samuel thus. “I will not thee revile.
“Gaze on thy bending thousands still, and smile!”
A sudden gleam, shot from the Prophet's eye,
A fearful look, supreme of majesty!
“Bring hither, first,” he cried, “the Heathen King!”
Agag advances! (like the flowers of spring)
Gorgeous, in gems, and gold, and Tyrian vest,
(Trusting to awe the Prophet, humbler drest.)
“Thy sword!” said Samuel. Saul his sword presents.
To Agag, thus he spake. “Thy crime augments:
“Which none of human name hath ere surpast.
“More fatal than the desert's scorching blast
“Hath been thy law! Thy nod hath often sent
“Whole tribes to dungeon-depths and languishment!
“Within thy heart, pity no place hath found!
“Thy sword hath spread the childless Mothers round!
“And now the judgment (long delay'd) is come!
“Tho' Saul hath spared, Samuel shall deal thy doom!”
“Oh, pardon! pardon!” Agag, shuddering cried!
“Tho' I have oft my sword in crimson dyed,

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“Let me find mercy!” Samuel, at the word,
Look'd sterner, as tho' demon voice he heard,
Then Agag hew'd in twain before the Lord!

Samuel retires from Saul, and oft, alone,
Sorrows for one by Satan's wiles o'erthrown!—
'Mid olive groves, and cypress forests deep,
In silence, far from man, withdraws, to weep—
That Saul, in evil hour, should turn away
From wisdom, nor Jehovah's law obey.
While pouring out his heart, in earnest prayer,
Samuel look'd up, for, lo! a Form was there—
Angelic! As he look'd, with hands outspread,
He saw Messiah! Bending low his head,
He heard the voice. “Oh, Man, restrain thy tear!
“As Saul, thy warning word disdains to hear,
“His sight the mist of age shall never dim!
“He turn'd from me, and I will turn from him!
“Go forth to Bethlehem! Thy oil prepare!
“And thou, for me, shalt choose a servant there!”

Samuel arose obedient, and now came,
Near to the place appointed. At his name,

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So dear to Israel, father, mother, child,
Felt reverence, and in sweet remembrance smiled.
And now adown the hill, with solemn pace,
That led to Bethlehem, he turn'd his face.
A simple mantle rude the Prophet bore,
Whilst his thin locks, from time, were silver'd o'er.
With trembling step, to Jesse's humble shed,
The Spirit-guide, within, his footstep led.
The Father saw the aged Seer advance,
When, hastening, he exclaim'd. “It is a trance!
“Samuel, the Heaven-taught Prophet of the Land,
“Beneath old Jesse's roof will never stand!”
Samuel replied. “Praise God! To thee I bring
“Oil to anoint thy Son even Israel's King!”

(The Mother stopp'd her distaff. All, around,
Silence intense, that waits each accent, bound!)
“My Son?” the Father said. The Prophet spake,
“Thy Son, will God, to rule his people, take!
“This is my message! God hath sent me here,
“One to anoint with oil, who Him will fear.
“Saul is rejected! Pride hath weigh'd him down!
“And Jesse's Son, erelong, shall wear his crown!”

323

The Father doubtful stood, then smote his breast.
The Mother look'd to Heaven, with joy opprest.
The Sons, arranged around, without reply,
Heard, and in silence said, “May that be I!”
Old Jesse bow'd and answer'd. “Be it so!
“Yet gladness moves me not, but rather woe.
“Kings know that sorrows with their reign begin!
“Whilst pomp and show the voice applauding win,
“The worm, the secret canker, preys within!”
The Mother, hastening toward the Prophet, cried,
“Why should I sorrow shew, or pleasure hide?
“Here are our Sons! Choose either of the train.
“They all would make good kings, and nobly reign.”

Eliab, eldest, from his Brethren came.
The Prophet mark'd his tall majestic frame,
His aspect, form'd by nature for a throne,
And thought within, this will Jehovah own.
The oil he now prepares, when, lo! a voice
Came to his ear, “Restrain thine eager choice!
“Thou lookest to the form, with purpose blind,
“But God regards alone, the heart, the mind!”
Now, smiling, to the reverend Prophet, old,
Abinadab advances, firm and bold,

324

Sure of the prize. Displeased that such should be,
Samuel replied. “Retire! Thou art not he!”
Next Shammah came, with looks of earnestness,
Silently pleading, “Me, Oh, Father, bless!”
The Prophet thus. “My Son! no choice is mine.
“I must obey the secret voice divine!
“Prize thou obscurity! It is a flower
“That loves the lonely walk, the woodland bower,
“Where, veil'd from human eye, it scents the air,
“Confess'd with joy by the chance passenger;
“And tho' no flattering tongues its beauties own,
“Yet peace is near, that stranger to a throne!”
Seven Sons the anxious Mother brought, to see,
Which might be bless'd with Israel's sov'reignty.
All are rejected! “Tell me,” Samuel cried,
“Hast thou no Child, Oh, Jesse! these beside?”
The Father said, “I have one other Boy,
“A strange and giddy Lad, fond of each toy,
“The pipe, the harp, and such seducing things;
“And oft beside the brook he sits and sings
“Wrapt in wild fancies, whilst his flocks around,
“With dumb delight stand list'ning to the sound.
“Thou canst not need his presence. Let him still
“Give his rude notes, far off, to rock and rill.”

325

Samuel replied. “Before I taste thy fare,
“Send to the Wilderness, and find him there.”
David now hastens near! A ruddy Youth,
Eager as Thoughtlessness, and blunt as Truth,
“Why seek me thus?” he cried. “In pity, say!
“If goat should wander, or if lamb should stray,
“What nimble foot will help, with spirit bold,
“To search the crags, and pen my evening fold?”
Turning, he saw the Prophet! With amaze,
He drops his pipe, and stands awhile to gaze!
Awed by his stately mien, more dread than pride,
His snowy locks, his look to Heaven allied!
The aged Prophet watch'd, with eye intense,
His open brow, his front of innocence,
When, lo! he heard a voice which set him free,
“Samuel, arise! Anoint him! This is he!”

“My Son!” the Prophet answer'd, “Heaven's decree,
“Places the Rod of Power, the Crown on thee!
“Judah's high sceptre, thou erelong shalt sway,
“And Israel's mightier Tribes, thy word obey!
“Stoop and receive the Oil!” David bends low
Whilst o'er his head the streams anointing flow.
When thus he spake. “Shall I, a King, be crown'd!
“I, last and least of all my Brethren round!”

326

“Thou shalt!” the Prophet said. “Now fare thee well,
“In concord, still, with these thy Brethren dwell,
“And when, my Son! the appointed time draws near,
“Thy ways, though dubious now, shall all be clear!”

Scarce had the Prophet turn'd from Jesse's tent,
When David's Brethren pour'd their discontent.
“What means,” Abinadab indignant cried,
“That the Old Prophet, whom our hearts deride,
“Vain Dreamer! David, should select alone,
“And pass o'er me, so suited to a Throne!”
“And me,” Eliab said, “More wise than thou!
“To whom, my Brethren, all alike, should bow!
“This David, whom I only shunned of late,
“Now is my lothing-point! my scorn! my hate!
“But are the Prophet's words, which we despise,
“Coupled with truth, or vain deceitful lies?”
“Lies!” cried Abinadab. “Sooner shall I,
“Than David reign, prop with my staff, the sky!”

David, far off, and humbler than before,
Contented lives the Shepherd's life, once more;
And (by some thorn, or dashing stream reclined)
Strives to forget his Brethren's voice unkind.

327

There, far from every eye, in thoughtful mood,
What might be, he in misty maze pursued:
Saw many a gleam illume his distant sky,
And sometimes fear'd the storm, no shelter nigh.
Silent he gazed: and oft the Evening Star,
Musing, beheld him, high in Fancy's car,
The hour forgotten, and his flocks afar!
(While his rough shaggy Sheep-Dog near him lay,
His rest begun, still with the parting day)
When, waked from witching trance, with eager look,
His sleeping guard he rouses! grasps his crook!
Collects his scatter'd charge, in twilight penn'd,
Whilst thick and chill the mountain dews descend!

Though tired, his mind with Fancy's beaten round,
Yet the same thoughts a ready entrance found:
Each Image, long rejected, welcome still,
Forc'd the weak'd fence, and triumph'd o'er his will.
To cure the restless cares that on him press,
He turns to seek some present happiness;
And sweet it was, as Morn, with sober grey,
Slowly led on the kindling cloud of day,
Beneath some towering tree, his stand to take,
And from his Harp, the Holy Song awake,

328

Sounding His praise, unseen, though ever nigh,
Who sits upon the Circle of the Sky!
His wayward mind thus striving to restrain
With what, till then his wildest thoughts could chain,
As the tumultuous Tune approach'd its end,
He oft forgot the final Note to send!
For Dreams would rise, of that approaching day,
When Israel's Sceptre, Jesse's son should sway,
Till he exclaim'd (his Flocks around him spread)
Revolving deep on what the Prophet said,
“How can it be! A Miracle unknown,
“That I, a Shepherd Youth, should mount a Throne!”

“And Nahash, the Ammonite, answered them, On this condition will I make a covenant with you, that I may thrust out all your right eyes.” Samuel, I. chap. XI. ver. 2.

329

BOOK XVIII.

Saul. Abner. David. Ahithophel.

By Envy fierce, by towering thoughts opprest,
By Wrath th' imperious tyrant of the breast;
From folly to presumption, hurrying still,
The mind of Saul all evil passions fill.
His slave-like Sycophants, around, he sees,
Eager, whate'er the cost, their King to please;
Who abject flattery pour upon his ears,
He listens to their voice, nor danger fears;
Till he believes (high privileged of birth!)
Himself disgraced by ties to man, and earth,
Looks scornful, from his perilous ascent,
On all beside who breathe the firmament.

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Can the Pure Spirit dwell in such a mind?
Where Hate her revel holds, with Fury blind?
Wild are his ways, o'er whom e'en Demons sigh,
Who has no Light below, no Star on high!
Deserted by the still small voice, within,
And left the slave of Folly, as of Sin.
Lo! now, to punish (as his crimes augment)
An Evil Spirit from the Lord is sent!
So Lamb-like, that the Demon few abhor,
A Spirit, in an Evil Counsellor!
The moment hastes, when one his chosen guide,
Will fan the Fire of Jealousy and Pride;
Foment Suspicion, till to War, it rise,
And be his Dark Familiar, in disguise.

Saul, from his seat upstarts, with rolling eye:
Thus to his Mighty Men and Captains nigh,
He, in th' impetuous gust of passion, raves,
“Avaunt, Oh, Worms of Earth! Hence, abject slaves!”
“Prompt to obey (alike the small and great)
“Kings, and but Kings, on me their Lord, shall wait!

Joab on Saul, in silent anguish, gazed,
The sigh sent forth, the hand instinctive raised.

331

A Harp was near; he seized it, and the chord
Swept to assuage the fury of his Lord!
Saul, at the sound, in tranquil wonder stood.
“How fresh'ning to my spirit! Oh! how good!”
Eager he cried “Throw back thy hand again,
“And let me live beneath that magic strain!”

Joab, submissive spake. “Poor power is mine
“To move the heart with tender touch divine,
“But there is one on Bethlehem's mountains near,
“Whose matchless strains, Angels might stoop to hear.
“Late as I past, while Eve her fragrance threw,
“And the red cloud, still faint and fainter grew,
“Upon my ear such sounds mellifluous stole,
“That, pausing, love and wonder fill'd my soul.
“I hasten'd to a house, not built for fame,
“A turf-raised Shepherd's dwelling, whence they came,
“And, at the door, long paused to hear the song,
“Now faint as breezes, now as torrents strong.
“Till the last note expired upon the air,
“I felt it were a sin to enter there.
“By silence now embolden'd, I inquired
“What sounds were those which thus my breast inspired.

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“Before me stood a simple Shepherd Lad,
“Of aspect ruddy, and in russet clad.
“If thou, Oh, King! would'st hear a Harp so rare,
“Speak, and this Mountain Youth shall soothe thy care!”
“Fly!” Saul exclaim'd. “His Harp shall be my pride,
“Music can rouse, when all is dead beside.”

The Warrior now on Bethlehem's hills appears,
Seeking the Lad, but nought of pipe he hears:
Shepherd and flock are vanish'd. Now again,
He lists to catch some distant note! In vain!
It is the whistling wind. He gazes round,
But all is bleak and lonely. Mountains bound
His utmost sight, with trees, half dead and grey,
Thin scatter'd, 'mid the rock, and stony way,
That but the Desolation more display.
The Youthful Story crowds upon his mind
Of Wood-Nymphs, and Aerial Beings kind,
Who oft, for sport, the wondering mortal cheat
With sounds and semblances, and visions sweet,
That (for a moment) charm, in fair array,
And instant, like the sun-beam, pass away.
And now he thinks, if ever such hath been,
The sight he saw, of turf-raised cottage green,

333

The youth, the music, and the evening hour,
Was such, no fancy, some supernal power!
On Sprights he thinks, of darker influence,
Who arrows shoot, unknowing how, or whence!
The thing deem'd possible, now, seems to be!
The neighbouring crag hath shapes of mystery!
He turns and hastens down the mountain's side!
Ah! now he runs! and he who man defied
O'erpowered by Fancy's unsubstantial fear,
Flees for his life, and fleeing seems to hear
Some wild and Goblin rout, terrific, near!

Nigh to the base arrived, a Kid he spies.
The spell is burst! Around, he casts his eyes,
Cautious, to see if mortal there were found,
Who saw Saul's Warrior, Joab! trembling, bound
Down from the mountain peak! No eye was there!
And now he fain to war would Lions dare.
He meets, in hurrying pace, a Rustic old,
Seeking the wandering truant from his fold;
“Tell me!” cried Joab. 'Mid this dreary place,
“Suited alone for beasts of savage race,
“Whose Lad is that who on the Pipe doth raise
“Such notes that he who hears must pause and praise!”

334

“The Pride of Bethlehem!” the Rustic spake.
“One Lad alone such moving tones can wake,
“Old Jesse's Son! whom Heaven preserve and bless!
“From morn, till eve, the sky, in gold, doth dress,
“His pipe delights our rocky wilderness!”

Joab at Jesse's humble tent appears.
The Mother hastens out, o'erwhelm'd with fears,
The Father, slow approaching, homage paid,
“Com'st thou in peace, my Lord!” In peace,” he said.
Joab again. “Is it thy ruddy Child,
“Whose harp makes vocal yonder hill-top wild?”
The impatient Mother cried, “My youngest Boy!
“His Father's hope, his doting Mother's joy!
“Behold him here!” David drew nigh and bow'd.
“The same!” spake Joab. “Not to every cloud
“That hangs upon the misty mountain's head,
“Or to the quiet sheep that round thee spread,
“Shalt thou attune thy harp. Before our King,
“Hence, shalt thou sweep thy spirit-stirring string!”

The Mother joyful look'd. The Father sigh'd.
Thus he began. “Oh, David, by my side,
“I trusted thou should'st long forbear to know
“The flattering snares that round a monarch flow.”

335

David replied. “My Father, ever dear!
“Where'er my home, thee shall I still revere;
“Thy precepts prize, next to the Page Divine,
“And strive to make thy bright example mine!”
Jesse no answer made but heaved the sigh,
Whilst she, of late, so bold, (with parting nigh)
Said, as she veil'd her face, opprest with woe,
“Stop yet awhile, I cannot let thee go!”
The warlike Chief now hastes, with mighty stride,
To seek the King, young David by his side,
(Bearing his harp, with shorter step, and fast)
And now, for kings and courts, they both have past.

Amid the palace, where, in royal state,
Eclipsing eastern pomp (whilst crowds await
The faintest nod, obedience prompt to pay)
Saul, clothed with Tyrian vest, in slumber lay!
Roused from his sloth, by some approaching sound,
He starts, whilst consternation reigns around!
Joab advancing, now, with plume and spear,
Bows to the King, young David trembling near!
Saul thus. “Is this the Shepherd Youth, so skill'd
“To tune the harp, with wit and wisdom fill'd?”

336

“This is the Youth!” Joab, obeisant, spake.
“The song!” cried Saul. With heart and hands that shake,
The ruddy Shepherd touch'd the thrilling string,
Now tender, now up-soaring, on the wing
Of earth-disdaining eagle; then, again,
Descending from his strength to humbler strain.
Saul shouted. “Bring the crimson robe of state!
“Upon this rustic, let the proudest wait!
“Whom I delight to honour shall arise,
“And all but me, lords, princes, kings despise!”

One, 'mid the crowd, his aspect sore and sad,
With look askance, gazed furious at the Lad;
Muttering the secret curse, with half-closed eyes,
That one should o'er his head to honours rise.
Ahithophel, who own'd a heart of stone,
(Taught by his Sire to lie, and God disown)
Felt not the force of harmony's sweet tone.
All evil passions triumph'd in his breast;
His very smile, in aspect strange, was drest,
And when the lear of envy round he threw,
The eye that saw, revolting, back withdrew!

337

For David, bounding thus o'er all the great,
He felt th' intense of scorn, with mortal hate.
Hearing how Samuel late had downward sped,
And pour'd the Holy Oil on David's head,
Opprest with gladness, while with passion pale,
Earnest, to Saul, he hastes, to bear the tale!

Upon his couch, the King, in slumber lies.
Ahithophel draws near. “Thy slave!” he cries.
“Oh, pardon me! Such cause awakes my fear,
“That I must speak, and thou, Oh, Saul! must hear!
“Thy name! Thy throne! Thy race! all tottering stand!
“Samuel, the Prophet, bane of Israel's land!
“Nursing disdain of thee, and to display
“Vain power which strives to rule, where none obey!
“Hath one anointed, traitor vile and vain!
“To hurl thee down, and in thy stead to reign!”

The Monarch, rising, with portentous ire,
Answer'd. “In restless dreams of flood and fire,
“Unused, I lay, writhing upon my bed,
“'Till, at thy voice, the scaring vision fled!
“Thou hast disclosed the cause! Th' Anointed Head,
“The Rebel Prophet, I behold them dead!

338

“Declare the Culprit, who, to madness prone,
“Dares to look up, unshuddering, at my throne!”

Ahithophel replied. “Not far is he!
“It is the Youth, whose gentle minstrelsy
“So dwells upon thine ear! the Shepherd Lad,
“So late in sackcloth, now in purple clad;
“He, serpent-like of heart, to madness prone,
“He lifts the daring eye to Israel's throne!
“Hear me, Oh, King! Call up thy fierce disdain!
“Uproot the guilty, and still live and reign!”

David, before the King, in fetters bound,
Stands trembling, with the envious crowd around,
Saul scornful thus. “Art thou, so poor and mean,
“My rival! Thou, the secret grand machine
“Ordain'd to move an empire! If such thought
“Hath ever in thy heart a tumult wrought,
“It is the evening cloud, just seen to fly,
“For, ere an hour, Oh, Traitor! thou shalt die!”

David, in terror, heard, when Joab cried,
“Oh, King! allay thine anger! Tho' thou chide,
“I must for David plead, to some so dear!
“I saw his Mother shed the parting tear!

339

“I heard his aged Father, weeping, say
“‘Oh! Son, within my heart, I feel dismay!
“What if some harm should reach thee, and no Sire
“Be near, to soothe thy pangs, thy wants inquire!
“What if the ways of sin, which I forebode,
“Should tempt thy feet to tread the evil road!
“Oh! what if thou should'st death's dark vale explore,
“And he who loves thee, never see thee more!'
“Oh, King! one prayer, one warm request is mine—
“If I have loved thee, served thee, Oh, incline
“To mercy, heavenly attribute! and give
“The word that bids the Youthful Shepherd live!”
Saul, thus replied. “Joab, thy prayer is vain!
“An Angel's pleading voice would I disdain!”

David, in wilder'd glance, look'd eager round!
His Harp was near! With a convulsive bound,
He seized it, and awoke its sweetest sound!
Ahithophel had torn the strings away,
But Saul, his hand uplifting, utter'd, “Stay!”
The Minstrel read the presage, and, still higher,
In majesty unwonted swept the lyre,
Unfolding to the heart such secret ways,
That all, by silence, best proclaim'd their praise.

340

From loftiest height descending, once again,
In cadence soft, he woke the plaintive strain,
So tender, in such notes of liquid sound,
That every eye the tear unconscious drown'd.
“Stop!” said the King. “It were a heart of steel,
“Not at thy giddy notes delight to feel.
“I have no power to slay thee! Haste, and say,
“Music hath charm'd the lion o'er his prey!”
David (no pause between) obedient bow'd,
Then hasten'd, speechless, trembling, thro' the crowd!

Scarce had the Son of Jesse left the place,
When Saul exclaim'd, rage bursting from his face!
“David, yon simple youth, nor proud, nor bold,
“Born to direct the sheep and tend the fold,
“I blame not him. Samuel, the Prophet vain,
“He shall endure the storm of my disdain!
“Abner! This hour, prepare our fiercest band!
“Justice, in Samuel's death, shall purge our land!
“I learnt of old, that Traitor was my foe!
“And he, a Monarch's vengeance, now shall know!
“For pity he may plead, but ere I turn
“At human tear, yon sun shall cease to burn!”

341

To Ramah, in his wrath, the Monarch speeds,
Feeding, the while, on fierce and deathful deeds!
Saul enters now, the Prophet's tent serene.
No voice is heard! No busy step is seen!
From a near board, whereon he lean'd his head,
A Servant, rising, spake (his hands outspread)
“Samuel, the Prophet of the Lord, is dead!”
“Behold him there, stretch'd silent on the bier,
“And for my Master, lo! I drop the tear!”

(Wrapping his mantle round his arms) his eyes
Saul instant veils, and in compunction cries.
“Thou art in Heaven, my Father! Can it be,
“That I should seek thy life, once dear to me!
“And reverenced still! The demon power within
“Hath madly urged me to this towering sin!”

While speaking thus, Samuel himself arose!
The look of stern upbraiding round he throws!
(The Servant starts! Saul and his followers near,
Retreating, in wild gaze, proclaim their fear!)
Thus he began. “The Vision deep was mine!
“My spirit Earth had left for Scenes Divine!”

342

Beholding Saul, he cried, whilst, in his eye,
A frown majestic kindled fearfully!
“Why here?” Then Saul perceived, amid affright,
How small were Kings, when Prophets were in sight!
Trembling he said. “Oh, Sire! with spirit meek,
“Thy blessing, first of gifts, I come to seek!”
There was a pause around! when Samuel spake.
“Would'st thou deceive thy Father? Should I wake
“To vengeance, where, Oh! Saul, would'st thou be found!
“Unwittingly, thou tread'st on awful ground!
“Shall I ‘for pity plead!’ I ‘drop the tear!’
“The quivering lip bespeaks thy mortal fear!
“Back, instant! and to Heaven look up, and say,
“Oh! give me to repent of this my way!”
Saul bow'd, but word he utter'd not again,
And, as he turn'd, he felt, in every vein,
Uncertainty, that shook his iron frame,
Whether from dealh! or life! the accents came!

343

BOOK XIX.

David and Goliath.

It was the evening hour, and calm the sky,
And sweetly birds, gave their last melody.
Old Jesse sat beneath a clustering vine,
And, with his Children, mark'd the sun decline
(In majesty that mocks the painter's skill)
Tranquil, behind a cedar-tufted hill.
Each tongue was mute. The eye, in silence, gazed,
When in soft tone, her voice, the Mother rais'd.
“Sweet is the scene, but, Oh! how doubly dear,
“If one, our David, (much-loved Child) were here!
“Yon little garden he with flowrets crown'd,
“He form'd the bower that sheds its fragrance round,

344

“And on yon rising slope, that meets our sight,
“At times, like this, to sit was his delight,
“And from his pipe, or harp's commanding string,
“Anthems send forth to Heaven's Eternal King.
“Oh! haste the day, that I once more may hail
“My long-lost Son, in Bethlehem's peaceful vale!”

Scarce had the accents died upon the air,
When up the fragrant garden, once his care,
And dearer still for absence, David flies!
The Father starts! the Mother wipes her eyes!
Each clasp'd him round, with joy akin to pain,
And silence made the voice of welcome vain.

David declares, (whilst each attentive heard)
How, with his life, e'en like a frighted bird,
From Saul he fled, resolved no more to roam,
But love, henceforth, the Shepherd's peaceful home.
Jesse replied. “My Son! these eyes have seen
“The Proud of Earth, now, like the bay-tree, green
“And flourishing, in promised permanence,
“Stability express'd on every sense,
“But when the evening came, their heads, so high,
“Droop'd, and I saw their glories fade and die.

345

“These eyes have mark'd the great, the vain, the brave,
“More glorious than the sun-beam on the wave,
“But when (short season past) I look'd around,
“I found them not! The timbrel's sprightly sound
“No more was heard! And they, of late so gay,
“Still and forgotten, all had past away!
“Such is the race of Man! Oh! Son, arise
“Above this fleeting world's low vanities!
“If doom'd thro' life to tread the humble road,
“Or call'd, with kings, to make thy brief abode,
“Still serve thy God, whose smiles true blessings shed,
“And covet joys that live, when life is fled!
“I bid thee welcome. Equal love is mine,
“Tho' on thee prosperous days have ceased to shine.”

“Arms!” now, thro' all the coast of Israel sounds,
“Philistia, scattering death, hath burst our bounds!”
Saul, to the conflict calls his faithful bands!
And now, for war prepared, each army stands!
Upon two hills the hostile powers are seen,
Whilst a wide vale, spreads like a sea between.
Each, for the other (checking scornful thought)
Felt the respect, mature, experience taught,
And every heart, like a December's flood,
Knew that the plain, erelong, would roll in blood!

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Jesse, too old for conflcit, far away
Trembling awaits the tidings of the fray.
In sadness, to his youngest son, he spake,
“David! thy scrip, thy staff, obedient, take.
“Haste to the Battle; seek thy Brethren there,
“And to their Captain, this small pittance bear,
“Parched corn, ten loaves and cheeses, fruits and flowers,
“The humble gifts befitting state like ours.”

To one, his sheep confiding, from repose,
(Ere morn disclosed her glories) David rose,
And to the Battle, with his little store,
Speeds, 'mid the host, his Brethren to explore.
They meet. “Oh! tell me,” David eager cries,
“How goes the War? My Father these supplies
“Sends for your Captain, while, for you, he bears
“A Parent's sympathy, a Parent's cares,
“And hourly prays, amid the conflict deep,
“Some unseen Angel, you from harm may keep!”

A shout is heard, as when the billows rave!
Pale turns the cheek of Spirits bold and brave!
“What meaneth this?” said David, as his glance
Saw to the fight a Giant Form advance!

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Eliab scornful thus. “Rash Youth, and vain!
“Back to thy Mother's lap, thy folds again!
“Roam o'er the mountains, tend thy scatter'd care,
“Pour thy wild strains upon the midnight air,
“Safety, (thy joy) inglorious peace is there!
“But on the Field of Fight, such hearts as thine,
“(Made up of Song) were never form'd to shine.
“Back to thy home! Too proud and curious grown!
“Valour to us belongs, and us alone!”

“My Brother!” David said. “Of wrath beware!
“Is not the cause both manifest and fair?
“Did not my Father send, whom now you chide?
“And where is rashness? Folly, where, and Pride?”
Eliab stamped his foot, though nought he spake,
When David cried, to other thoughts awake,
“What means that sight, in Elah's valley fair?
“Why doth yon Giant wave his falchion there?”
One trembling answer'd. “Israel bears her shame!
“Behold Goliath! man of mighty frame!
“Yon valley sward he treads, and oft hath trod,
“Daring the armies of the Living God!”
David exclaim'd. “Shall one our Tribes defeat?
“One, thus with scorn, all Israel's armies treat,
“And none aroused, the Impious Champion meet?

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“Let me behold him nearer, and with eye
“Calmly survey who dares our God defy!”
Abinadab, enraged, and fury-like,
Uprais'd his lance! “Forbear! Oh! do not strike!”
Said Shammah. “Though perverse and vain he be,
“Bleeding, our Mother's Son we may not see!”

David, while back his Brethren slow withdraw,
With stedfast eye, awhile the Giant saw,
Then cried. “In Strength Divine, yon Impious Foe,
“I will oppose, and singly lay him low!”
Thus saying, nearer to the fight he drew,
And o'er the scene the look disdainful threw;
With heart unmoved beheld the Giant proud,
Wield the huge spear, and cast the taunt aloud.

Upon his head a stately helm he wore,
His limbs, with shining mail were matted o'er!
The brazen greaves, his legs (like pillars) bind!
His brazen target, massive, hangs behind!
Whilst, as a weaver's beam, his spear arose,
Joy to his friends, and terror to his foes!
Thus for the war equipped, with one before,
Who his broad shield, with trembling sinew, bore,

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(Israel, the while, in dread misgivings bound)
He stood and hurl'd defiance fierce around!
“Come forth!” he cried, “The proudest man youboast!
“Come forth, and strive with me, myself a host!
“One blow, from this my sword, oft dyed in fight,
“Shall send the bravest to the realms of night!”

All Israel heard and trembled! Saul, amazed,
Now, at Goliath, now, around him gazed,
When one to Saul drew near, and thus began.
“Let not my Lord despair! There is a man,
“'Mid yonder Host, of stripling form and years,
“Who, nor the combat, nor Goliath fears!
“He offers, in the vale, yon Impious Foe
“To meet, and in fair conflict lay him low!”
“Bid him advance!” Eager, the Monarch cries,
When, lo! the Minstrel David, meets his eyes!

“What, is it thou?” said Saul. “Poor Youth and vain!
“Back to thy home! thy mountain folds again!”
David replied. “Within, I feel a fire!
“Vigour in every vein! a fierce desire
“To meet yon Foe, and arm to arm engage!
“A Spirit, bold as Ocean in his rage!”

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Saul marked his eye, his air, and wondering stood,
Then spake. “Restrain, Oh! Youth, thy boiling blood!
“Born in the vale obscure, Oh! Shepherd, say!
“How should'st thou drive the Vulture from his prey?
“Where learnedst thou, on War's ensanguin'd field,
“The lance to hurl, the sword remorseless wield?
“Such might as thine, ere the fierce fight were won,
“Would melt like snow before the burning sun!”

David, with solemn accent, thus replied.
“The God of Armies, He will be my guide!
“Once, nigh my mountain tent, I found the Bear,
“I met him! With this arm, I slew him there!
“Nor only once hath God deliverance shewn,
“Late, 'mid yon dreary Wilderness, alone,
“When Night, advancing, warned the world to rest,
“And I, the turf, in gentle slumber, prest,
“My bleating flocks aroused me! I upsprung!
“My cumbering mantle, scornful, from the flung!
“And marking where the danger, saw my fold
“Leap'd, in his hunger, by a Lion bold!
“He seized the Lamb! Confiding in that Power
“Whose smile is stronger than th' embattled Tower,
“From the near tree, a massy limb I tore,
“And singly, sought th' Aggressor. At his roar,

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“(More terrible for midnight) nothing scared,
“I rush'd! I grasp'd him by his shaggy beard,
“And, 'mid th' impetuous conflict, with one blow,
“Crush'd his broad front, and laid the Monster low!
“So shall yon Man lie breathless on the sod,
“Who dares the Armies of the Living God!”
“Go!” cried the King. “Tho' not to valour known,
“I see in thee a Spirit not thy own!
“Take my best armour! Thee, may God defend,
“When the fierce blows, like bolts from Heaven descend!”

David now stands in royal panoply,
On whom is fix'd the still and anxious eye!
All gaze with admiration, mix'd with fear,
And by their looks, proclaim that Death is near!
David exclaims. “How should this arm prevail,
“Encumber'd thus, with bright and massy mail?
“Such I resign. Give me the Sling and Stone
“And I, in Heaven and these, will trust alone!”
A Brook was near. Stripp'd of his ponderous load,
Down to the bubbling stream he fearless strode,
And, from the stones that lined its rocky side,
Selected five. Some voices near deride.

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“Go!” they began; “Thou wast a wayward child,
“Thy sport was on the hill-top, vast and wild,
“And rather than partake of daintiest fare,
“Thou lov'dst to wander, musing, harping, there.
“E'en when the setting Sun, far down had fled,
“Thou scarce, with day, would'st quit the mountain's head.
“Agreeing well, with this thy past offence,
“Fame hath deprived thy feeble mind of sense!
“Like the mad War Horse, at the hour of fight,
“Thou rushest on to Death, with strange delight!
“Thy Sire shall learn thy rashness, when too late!
“And, Oh! a Mother live to mourn thy fate!
“Hear, even now, a shrieking Parent's cries!
“Oh! shun th' unequal conflict, and be wise!”

Rous'd by the words, David, amid the crowd,
Gazed, when he answered, as his head he bow'd!
“My Brethren! though my ways you folly style,
“One Mother bore us, I will not revile.
“Tempt not my feet to swerve! The Lord this day,
“Will, in myself, his Mighty Arm display!
“Words now must cease. Lead me! (the Fight I hail!)
“Down to the haughty Champion in yon Vale!”

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David moves on to meet the giant foe!
Saul, from the royal tent, beholds him go,
And whilst he trembles speaks. “Th' Almighty's Will,
“Thousands or few, with equal ease fulfil!
“If yonder Shepherd Youth, should, blow for blow,
“Goliath meet, and lay the boaster low,
“Some kingly gift shall grateful Saul bestow!”

'Mid Elah's spacious vale, that mountains bound,
Goliath stands, and sends defiance round.
David, alone, walks forward! As he came,
The Giant cried “Oh, man of puny frame,
“Why come within the verge of this my spear?
“Feeblest of mortals! say, what drew thee here?”
David replied. “I come to dare thy might!”
“Thou!” said the Giant. “With uncertain sight,
“I hear a voice, yet know not whence it came!
“Too small, for eye like mine! Great heir of fame!
“I see thee now! Thou measure swords with me!
“Thousands have I beheld before me flee!
“And with the blast of my half brandish'd spear,
“Thou, ere an hour, this turf, shalt make thy bier!
“I curse thee! Being scarce to man allied!
“I curse thy King! and all his wrath deride!

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“Oh, Youth! whose flaxen locks, so graceful wave,
“I curse thy God! and dare his power to save!”

David replied. “Oh! Man, for fight prepare!
“Thy hands, the spear, the sword, terrific, bear!
“Thou, on thyself dost trust, I look for aid
“To Him who Heaven and Earth and all things made!
“Here, in this vale, inglorious, thou shalt bleed!
“The fowls of Heaven shall on thy carcass feed!
“Thy tongue (blaspheming) which might mountains shake,
“The ravenous beast his dainty morsel make!
“For war prepare!”

Goliath nearer drew.
David, his shepherd bag wide open threw,
And in the sling, swift as the thought arose,
Placed the smooth stone. Furious, that stone he throws!
Upon Goliath's head, with dread dismay,
It fell, and through his forehead forced its way!
Down falls the Giant! whilst, from Israel nigh,
The shout stupendous rose, of “Victory!”
Fast flee the scared Philistines! Close behind,
Boisterous and fleet, as midnight's stormy wind,
Saul and his host pursue! That day, the foe,
Lay like the sea-sands in their great o'erthrow!

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Saul, from pursuit returning, eager cried.
“Bring forth the Victor Shepherd! By my side,
“In purple robe, and in imperial state,
“Next to the throne, David, the brave, shall wait!”

The King in royal pomp (his princes round)
A waits th' approach of David. Lo! the sound
Of the loud trump, shrill piercing, tells the tale,
That he is near whom all desire to hail!

The Queen, and Michal, princess 'bove compare,
To join a nation's general thanks, were there;
And when the Hero enter'd (while the sound
Burst forth, as all their ample praise unbound)
That none around, her ardent joy might view,
One, o'er her face, confused, the mantle threw.
Saul thus began. “Advance, thou Son of might!
“Thy country's pride and Saul's supreme delight!
“All honours thy applauding King can yield,
“Hence shall be thine, for thou hast won the field.
“In vain my labouring mind desires to rest
“On some reward, which, to a heart opprest
“With generous impulses, shall minister
“Some solace, that, in giving, cannot err!

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“Son of renown! assist my doubtful choice!
“Let Israel, let thy grateful King rejoice,
“For what thou ask, consult thy mind alone!
“I swear to give thee, next to Israel's Throne”

In thoughtless moment, where no choice was found,
Michal her face unveil'd, and look'd around.
She caught the Victor's eye! The blush arose!
Th' mutual thrill which lover only knows
David, on Saul, in silence gazed, then cried,
“Oh! do not thou my words, presumptuous chide!
“One hope is mine, long cherish'd, fervent, true,
“Which, but for thee, had wither'd where it grew!
“Give me thy Michal! Crown my great desire
“With her whom one shall love, while all admire!”
“Granted!” the King exclaim'd. “Yon blooming Maid,
“Who now retires, in pomp of praise array'd,
“Shall in her plentitude of worth be thine,
“That love, with glory, garlands gay may twine!
“Prepare the feast! Upon the coming morn,
“Let Michal, gems, and choicest robes adorn!
“For she deserves the prize away to bear!
“And thou art worthy one, as chaste as fair!”

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BOOK XX.

Saul's Jealousy. David and Jonathan.

The good we seek, the ills that men befal,
Pass on successive, fleeting shadows all!
The marriage day is past, and David's eye
Gazes enraptured o'er his cloudless sky.
All joys, all happiness, that man may know,
Around his every path, like fountains, flow.
Raised to the eminence of earthly state,
On him, like Saul, obedient thousands wait,
His was the costly robe, the sumptuous food,
And with the will the power of doing good.
With what delight that man his time employs,
Who much of Earth, but more of Heaven enjoys;

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In all things round who sees the Hand Divine,
And makes his path with every virtue shine.
Such was the Son of Jesse, whilst, one prize,
To mortals, rarely given, salutes his eyes,
And warms his spirit, taught to know its worth,
Friendship unfeign'd! the pledge of Heaven on Earth!

In Jonathan, the brave, the frank, the true!
Who loved, when suns around their radiance threw,
Nor less, when clouds and darkness veil'd the scene,
David rejoiced, while, in the hour serene,
To him he told each varied hope and fear,
And found (no guile to hide) the heart sincere.
“It is too much!” he cried. “Such happiness
“As I, a humble Shepherd, now possess
“Makes, while the Source, of every Good, I know,
“My heart, with joy ecstatic overflow!”
Stay, gentle Youth. Did ever Angel's eyes
See one, of woman born, to Heaven arise,
Nor sorrow first prepare him for the skies?

Philistines, now, for war once more advance,
Defying, with the chariot, and the lance.
“Go!” said the Monarch to his hero Son;
“Thou hast ere this the fight triumphant won;

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“Instruct afresh our haughty foes to fear,
“And let them learn new terrors from thy spear!”

To meet the fierce Philistines, once again,
David goes forth, with all his valiant men.
In the hard fight, the laurel wreath he earns,
And toward his King, triumphant now returns.
Exulting Saul began. “Let all prepare
“To hail our David, glory's choicest heir!”
He comes! Behold, yon distant hill displays
The home-bound warriors, with their sun-like blaze.
To Salem, borne by grateful hearts along,
David proceeds, 'mid tabret, dance, and song.
The Damsels shout, whilst crowding round his car,
“Who like Prince David spreads his fame afar?
“His blushing honours rise, beyond degree!
“Saul slays his thousands, but ten thousands, he!”

Ahithophel, indignant hears the cry,
Fast, to the King, he hastens, whilst his eye,
Wrath-beaming, told his tale. “Heard'st thou?” he spake,
“What bursts of uproar wild the concave shake?
“Women of David say, and bend the knee,
“Saul slays his thousands, but ten thousands he!”

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“Perdition!” Saul exclaim'd. “To summits prone,
“What can he seek beyond but Israel's Throne!
“I must beware! But David hastes to tell
“What joys and transports vain his bosom swell!”

David draws near, obeisant, and thus cried,
“Tidings of joy, Oh, King! With ruin wide
“The remnant of thy foes, impetuous flee,
“And Israel's land, once more, from war is free!”

No word the Monarch utter'd. Frowns severe,
The Victor told of gathering tempest near!
Pale, Jonathan advanced. “My Sire!” he said,
“Why should the gloom thy visage thus o'erspread?
“Hath not Philistia felt supreme dismay?
“And this, my Brother, nobly won the day?”
Saul look'd disdainful round, when David spake.
“Oh! King, the spoils of conquering Israel take!
“I, prostrate, at thy feet, would lay them down,
“And ask no gift, but freedom from that frown!”
“The Harp!” the Monarch cries. The Son obeys,
And now, (to Saul, reclining) duteous plays,
Sending such notes from the enchanting string,
That, all with rapture heard, save Israel's King!

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David thus Saul addrest. “Oh! tell me Sire!
“What crime is mine that should arouse thine ire?
“Have I disturb'd the mind I meant to please?
“Oh! speak, and give thy suffering Servant ease!”
Saul upward sprang as tho' for mortal fray!
Grasping a javelin, that beside him lay;
He look'd with lion wrath, by fury fann'd,
Then cast the murderous weapon from his hand!
Is David slain? Confusion reigns around!
The whisper spreads—“David his death hath found!”
“Not so!” a hundred answer with delight!
“He hath escaped, and Heaven protect his flight!”
Foil'd in his aim, Saul's eye destruction beam'd,
And who might live, or die, uncertain seem'd!
Each slow retires, unnoticed, from the throne,
And now the wrathful King is left alone!

Entering in haste, young Jonathan thus said,
“Oh! hear me, Sire! on me, and on my head,
“Let thy displeasure rest, but let me plead
“For David, whom I love, a friend indeed!”
“Off!” Saul exclaim'd. “The feeble sight is thine!
“Thou hast to boast the spirit infantine,

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“For hadst thou sense to see, and heart to know,
“In David thou would'st view thy bitterest foe!”
“Pardon!” the Pleader cried. “No foe is he!
“He loves thy Son, sincere, and honours thee!”
“Consummate folly!” Saul, enraged, replied.
“David would fain, over his Monarch ride,
“And in the thought, aspiring, trample down,
“Thee, pitiless, to grasp thy Father's crown!
“Tear thou the film, impervious, from thine eyes,
“And see the secret serpent in disguise!
“Gaze not to Heaven, and by thy looks declare
“That I suspect, in vain, the fatal snare!
“I see (and tremble at the fearful form)
“Yon little cloud, the embryo of the storm!
“David's ambitious pant for power I know,
“And as thy Father lives, his blood shall flow!
“Hence! or thy life, thy rashness shall atone!”
The Son departs! The Father raves alone!

'Mid savage wilds, remote from human eye,
David, in sorrow, paces silently.
One hastens near, young Jonathan! He spake,
“What are my cares, Oh, David! for thy sake!

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“I mourn a Father's rashness! I deplore
“That thou art wandering, sad, the desert o'er!”

When David thus. “Why was I raised to see
“The blush of morn, and taste prosperity!
“Why was the gate of joy thrown open wide,
“And I, one moment, borne on pleasure's tide?
“Just made to taste of bliss, with fair renown,
“And then to see my cup, dash'd, crashing, down!
“Oh! that the shepherd's life once more were mine,
“Fame would I spurn, and freely power resign!”

O'erwhelm'd with sorrow, Jonathan replied.
“Why should my heart the truth, from David, hide?
“My Father seeks thy life! Forsake thy home!
“A while, these wastes (thy lonely refuge) roam!
“I will to Saul repair, and plead for thee,
“Brother, beloved! and if I danger see,
“Thou shalt be told, and find, till life doth end,
“In Jonathan, the same unshaken friend!”
And now th' embrace is past, tho' nought they say,
When back the Son of Saul pursues his way.

Once more the foe on Israel's border stands!
Saul shouted, “Rouse, to war, our valiant bands!”

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The secret thought disheartening, link'd with fear,
Crept thro' his soul, for David was not near!

Whilst now the Monarch, in the mournful mood,
And nursing thoughts of vengeance, silent stood,
Young Jonathan advanced and thus began.
“If Saul possess one true and loyal man,
“David is he! Oh! give me power to speak!
“List to my words, and wear the spirit meek,
“Whilst I pronounce, that, thou hast deem'd thy foe,
“One whom all hearts would love, if all might know.
“Say, Oh! my Father, did not David's might,
“Put, in one day, Philistia's Sons to flight?
“Did not his arm Goliath meet and slay,
“And his huge head, before thy face display?
“Did not our tribes, with dance and song rejoice?
“And thou, thyself, the loudest lift thy voice?
“Oh! do not slay the Innocent! Oh! spare,
“For justice! For thy glory! For my prayer!”

The storm is o'er. Saul, as an infant mild,
Casts the kind look, to cheer his sorrowing Child.
“My Son!” he said, “I feel thy searching word!
“I see my wrong! I own that I have err'd!

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“Pardon thy Sire! The solemn oath I give,
“Thou shalt dispel thy fears, and David live!
“Seek him! and let him now our foes o'erthrow,
“That Saul's perpetual smile may round him flow.”
Low at his feet, behold the Pleader bend,
And now he speeds to soothe his mourning friend.

“Arise!” he cried, to David. “Thou shalt see
“Saul with delight, from doubt and danger free!”
He leads the Minstrel, trembling, to his Sire!
Smiling, the Monarch bids his fears retire.
“Come nigh,” he said, “for God, this day shall hear
“Our mutual vows exchanged, our pledge sincere!”
David replied, “My heart, Oh, King! is thine!
“If wrong unwitting crime unknown, be mine,
“Pardon thy Servant! In this heart shall rise
“No treacherous thoughts for David to disguise.
“Oh! let me see, tho' secret tongues revile,
“That he who serves thee well shall gain thy smile!”
Saul answer'd. “Thou art faithful! Thou shalt find
“The bounteous heart in me, the spirit kind.
“Arm for the war! Resume thy plume and spear!
“Daring our might, Philistia's Sons are near!
“Teach them once more the Son of Saul to fear!”

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David advances, eager for the fight.
It rages hot! Doubtful (from morn to night)
The combat lasts, when, at the waste of day
The fight is won! A torrent of dismay
Bursts on the foe, who, panic-struck, o'erthrown,
Flee headlong, and once more their master own!

As David to contend again for fame
Past to the war, with shout and loud acclaim,
Ahithophel (thus in his Monarch's ear)
Whispers. “With these loud blasts is coupled fear!
“What throne is firm, when one, unrivall'd, lives
“In every heart? The prop that safety gives!”
Saul clasps his hands! Vacant his eye-balls roll,
And doubt, and storm, and tempest fill his soul.

Warm with success, while thousands shout around,
David draws near, his car with laurels crown'd.
To Saul he hastens, and, with ardent greet,
Lays his rich spoils submissive at his feet.

Saul, on the ground, unmoving, look'd austere.
No word he spake, nor seem'd he sound to hear!
David, in wonder lost, his Monarch eyed,
When Jonathan, approaching, eager cried,

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“Sweep thy sweet harp! Once more it shall beguile
“Our Father's breast, and anger teach to smile.”
David obeys. The melting notes arise.
Saul grasps a javelin that beside him lies!
Fierce at the Minstrel's heart, the weapon flies!
It whizzes on, amid the bursting groan,
Whilst David starts, and fast escapes alone.

“Speed!” cried the King. Seize on our bitterest foe!
“Crowns to the man who lays the Traitor low!”
David, to Michal hastes. “Thy Sire,” he said,
“Fain would thy David number with the dead!
“Good deeds, with Saul, thy Father, plead in vain!
“He seeks my life, who all his foes have slain!”
“Fly!” Michal answer'd. “Well I know my Sire!
“His jealous hate of thee, his fierce desire
“To count thee with the dead. Haste! or one hour
“May give thee to thy King's vindictive power!
“Behold the wall! The window here we see!
“Behold the rope! and me, to succour thee!”
David one moment prest her to his heart,
Then, faltering, cried, “Beloved! we must part!”
No voice is heard. Their breasts with anguish swell,
Whilst tears declare what language may not tell.

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Fast thro' the night the lonely traveller flies
With drooping heart opprest, and weeping eyes;
Whilst oft, with pallid cheek, he stops to hear
Sounds, from behind, faint heard, of freezing fear.
In silent resolution of the mind,
“One will I seek,” he said, “a Master kind,
“Even Samuel! In his tent, remote from care,
“Full in his ear, will I my wrongs declare;
“And if it seem him right, as once of yore,
“Speed to my home, and tend my flock once more!”

Ramah he enters. With the clasped hands,
Silent, before the Prophet, now he stands.
Samuel thus spake. “My Son! that look of woe
“Tells me that thou dost feel, what all must know.
“Pour forth thy sorrows. I, thy friend will be,
“Now, 'mid these winds of cold adversity!”
A tone so sweet, with words so soothing kind,
O'erwhelm'd, with flood of feeling, David's mind.
At length he cried. “Oh! reverenced still and dear!
“Where shall I flee from Saul's vindictive spear?
“His wars hath David fought, but what avails,
“Where hate, where jealousy, like his, prevails!
“Oh! Father, such surpassing cares are mine,
“That I these eyes could close and life resign!”

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Samuel began. “When ours are cloudless skies,
“And flowers around our feet, profuse, arise;
“When sorrows their pursuit, unbidden, cease,
“While all is calm, and every breath is peace;
“We talk of Faith, pluming unpractised wings,
“And own the Hand that rules all mortal things:
“But when the clouds conflicting fill the air,
“When grief, on grief, hard presses, care on care;
“When the fond hope is blasted, cherish'd long,
“Where is our boasted Faith, confirm'd and strong?
“The glory fades away, so loved of late,
“And all is cheerless, cold and desolate!
“Let thy strong vision pierce the upper sky!
“Have hope, in every hour, for God is nigh!
“His thoughts, his ways, exceed thy feeble sight,
“For thou art dust, and He is Infinite!
“Hear me, my Son! and banish discontent;
“Each cross that throngs thy path, by Heaven was sent.
“Wait thy brief sojourn in a world of woe,
“And pass resign'd where God would have thee go.
“This is thy state of toil! A few short hours,
“And thou wilt reach those Everlasting Towers,
“Assail'd not, thro' the age that ne'er shall end,
“By troubles, that, on earth, thy spirit bend.

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“Faint not! A glorious work shalt thou perform
“Before this life thou quit, of sun and storm;
“And, as the height of wisdom, Heaven begun!
“Learn in all states to say—‘Thy will be done!”

David look'd up. “My Father!” he replied.
“The road is intricate, the waste is wide,
“And I will choose thy God to be my guide!
“Blind, ignorant, I know not what is best,
“But I would look to Heaven, and be at rest.”

“Good choice is thine my Son!” the Prophet cries.
“I might disclose the scenes, erelong to rise,
“And pour strange vision on thy labouring sight!
“Some fears allay! Some sorrows bring to light!
“But wisdom he displays, who shuns to pry
“Beneath the veil that hides futurity!
“Depart, with Heaven thy portion. Thou shalt see,
“If prosperous days be good, prosperity,
“Tho' few can bear the height nor giddy be.”
David replied. “Oh! grant that on my head
“Thy blessing may descend!” the Prophet said,
“Receive the gift desired!” David bent low,
And as the Prophet's trembling hand, and slow,

371

Upon him rests, his sorrows fly away!
He sees and feels, a warm and cheering ray.
Thus solaced, to the winds, his fears he cast,
And, calm of spirit, back toward Salem past.

To Jonathan a faithful Servant hastes,
Him he address'd. “Out 'mid yon trackless wastes,
“Even David dwells!” As winds of winter, fleet,
Thither he speeds his friendless friend to greet;
When Jonathan began. “David, still dear,
“I sought thee, sorrowing, far, I sought thee near.”
David in silence lean'd upon his arm,
Then spake. “In friendship's voice there is a charm!
“How prized, how sweet it is, he only knows,
“Over whose head affliction's billow flows!
“My Brother! take an outcast's barren praise!
“May gladness cheer thy spirit, all thy days!
“And when the sod thy David's head hath prest,
“Oh! think on one who loved thee, gone to rest!”

Said Jonathan. “My Brother! cease to weep.
“Tho' pitiless the storm doth o'er thee sweep,
“Banish despair! for there are yet in store
“Full cups for thee, of pleasure, running o'er!

372

“My Father yet his many wrongs will mourn,
“And thou, to joy and gladness, still return!”
David, amid the burst of anguish cries,
“My sun, gone down, no more on earth shall rise!
“Perplexity prevails! Do this for me,
“For the sweet love of holy charity!
“To-morrow is the monthly feast, when Saul
“His captains, and his friends around will call.
“Three days it lasts. My place will vacant lie.
“Should he inquire for David, do thou cry
“‘A yearly feast there is within his town,
“E'en Bethlehem, and he is hasten'd down,
“(Permission by me given) his vows to pay,
“And worship there, of old, a Holy Day!’
“If at the thing declared thy Sire comply,
“All then is well. But if, with furious eye,
“He hear thy words, and into tempest break,
“Then, of a truth, my life he fain would take!
“Warn me of danger! Let me 'scape the snare!
“Beyond yon cave, to which I now repair,
“Shoot thou the arrow! I shall mark the sight,
“And read in this, my safety, or my flight.”

The feast is laid. The guests are gather'd round.
Saul sits supreme, in pomp and glory crown'd.

373

With look that made the boldest quake, he eyes
Each face, each station which around him lies.
At length he cried. “And where is Jesse's Son?”
Thus Jonathan. “The truth I may not shun.
“There is a feast, in Bethlehem, this day;
“He ask'd me to depart, and there to pay
“Accustomed homage. I permission gave,
“For who deserves our favour, like the brave!”

Saul answer'd, in the burst of passion's flame,
“Thou Child of the Perverse! Thy Father's shame!
“Born for thine own confusion! Dost thou see
“No crime in David's acts of perfidy?
“His are designs which none but Hell might own!
“He plots to hurl thy Father from his throne!
“To crush his Son, even thee! and as I live
“To dogs will I the traitor's carcass give!”
Said Jonathan. “What injury hath he done
“To thee, his King?—to me, thy pleading Son?
“Is it a crime to conquer Israel's foes?”
Saul, from the loaded banquet, instant rose,
At Jonathan (who fear'd no danger nigh)
He hurl'd the javelin with infuriate eye,
And groan'd to see the weapon pass him by!

374

With fierce-eyed indignation, from the place,
Young Jonathan rush'd forth, and veil'd his face!

To David fast he speeds. He cries, “Depart!
“(No avenue to Saul's relentless heart!)
“Thy life he seeks! Jehovah, Abraham's guide,
“Bless thee! and let thy joys be multiplied!
“Speed, Oh! my Brother!” David strove to speak,
As the warm tear roll'd copious down his cheek.
Silent they part! whilst each, o'erwhelm'd with care,
Look'd up, and breath'd for each the silent prayer!

375

BOOK XXI.

David receives, from Ahimelech, Goliath's sword.— Driven to want, he repines. Is taught resignation by the example and fate of the “Man at Ease.” David's interview with his Father and Mother. Conveys them to Moab. Abigail and Nabal. Ahimelech slain by Doeg. David spares Saul, when sleeping in the cave. His reconciliation. Death of Samuel.

David, to Nob, the distant town, repairs.
With look that told no tale of secret cares,
Ahimelech, the Priest, he sought, and cried,
“Father, revered, the needful food provide!

376

“I am on secret mission. Tell me plain,
“If weapon known, in war, to thee pertain.”
Ahimelech replied, “My Lord, and great,
“Thrice honor'd, as thy Servant, I will wait.
“There is one sword, kept in this sacred place,
“Goliath's! which thy might, by special grace,
“Late won in combat. If that suit thee, say!
“And bear the dread memorial safe away!”
When David thus. “It is the sword I need!
“Choice instrument!” “Doeg, arise with speed!”
Answer'd Ahimelech. “The weapon bring!
“Then, with thy pitcher seek the crystal spring.
“I, in mean time, the frugal board will spread
“And give (our only fare!) th' Unleaven'd Bread,
“So shall my Lord be satisfied.” They eat.
And now the well-known sword, at David's feet,
Doeg presents, who binds it to his side,
Then turns, to seek, alone, his wanderings wide.

Whilst, on the outcast, none regarding smiled,
Cheerless, he passes on, from wild to wild;
By night he travels, when no eye might see,
And in the day ascends the branching tree.
And now his heart, in faint rebellion, said,
“Why was I forced from home, thus wanting bread.”

377

The hour was thoughtful. Near, as spring-tide, green,
The dwelling of a Man at Ease was seen.
By hunger urged, David approach'd the door;
When, lo! with scowl, the Master stood before.
(Save when some favour, sought for, reach'd his ear,
And threw his visage into state austere)
His eyes stood out with fatness and delight:
He was, indeed, a sleek and portly wight,
Who plann'd, as one from death and danger free,
And talk'd of years, which he might never see.
David approaching spake. “With toil opprest,
“Weary and faint, if pity in thy breast
“Hath found a dwelling, let me rest my head,
“Some season brief; I ask alone for bread.”
The scornful Lord exclaim'd, “Or live, or die,
“I heed thee not, nor would I bread supply,
“Tho' thou, 'till night's dim hour, shouldst plead and pray.”
The dogs assault! A while they stand at bay,
When, on the first, of lion strength and size,
One blow descends, and, lo, he breathless lies!
“Val'rous!” the Master shouted. “One, like thee,
“That hath an arm of such tried valiancy,

378

“Must not be spurn'd. My words I do retrace,
“And here awhile shall be thy resting-place.
“But canst thou win me Wealth? If skill thou bring
“To swell my store (that first and noblest thing!)
“Here shalt thou sojourn long; nor do I heed
“What means are used if riches thence proceed.”

David replied. “That wealth I cannot gain,
“These wants now testify, nor do I feign,
“That if the power were mine, the way must be,
“Fair, open, such as Earth and Heaven might see.
“Yet would I not my wish to please thee hide.
“Hast thou a chord to harmony allied?
“Against thy wall, at hand, a harp I spy,
“Once, o'er its strings, my hand was wont to fly.”
The Master cried. “Next to the love of ease,
“Nothing like concord doth my spirit please.
“Music, and boisterous song, and midnight wine,
“These fill the laughing hours, with joys divine.
“The harp! My princely harp!” And now he hears
Such notes as melt his iron heart to tears.

When wonder ceased, the Lord, enrapt, exclaim'd,
“David himself, throughout our Canaan famed,

379

“Hath not a power to touch the soul like thee.
“Now for the dance and mirthful revelry.
“Thy heart no more with Fortune's frowns shall ach.
“To life, to luxury, to pleasure wake;
“Such as hath long been mine, a festive state.
“Whome'er I prize, on them do slaves await,
“And I will lift thee up amongst the great.
“Come forth,” with towering gaze, pursued the host;
“I, to thy eyes, will shew what wealth I boast.
“Behold this house, surpassing all around.
“What stately trees, what lands thy vision bound,
“Me, their sole owner call. The fields, before,
“Waving with yellow corn, contain my store.
“The vines, opprest with fruit, all bend for me,
“And as this year hath been, the next shall be.
“Yon barns, capacious, groan beneath their weight;
“Too small. Before another autumn, my estate
“Swell with its bounty, I will lay them low,
“And larger build, my riches to bestow,
“And long, to come, my soul shall laugh at woe.”
Is this the mark for envy? this the wise?
Smitten of Heaven, he reels! Ah! there he lies!
The Rich Man fades away! the Boaster dies!

380

David the judgment saw, then, sighing, said.
“Ere this have I beheld the wicked spread,
“Eager, his arms around, and joyous say,
“‘The bay-tree emblems my perpetual sway!’
“But, as the morning cloud, he past away!
“I look'd around, I sought him far and near,
“I found him not. He, from his high career,
“Sunk! from the boasted blaze of his renown:
“The leaden hand of Death had prest him down!
“His last hope perish'd! All he loved (vain man!)
“Bounded by Time, and measured with a Span!
“Oh! may my treasure lie beyond the tomb,
“Where thief doth not molest, nor moth consume.
“I'd rather keep the door, in th' House of Prayer,
“Than with the wicked flourish, wealth my snare;—
“In th' humble vale of life contented wait,
“Than dwell in tents of sin, on thrones of state;—
“Pass, pilgrim-like, my fleeting moments here,
“Looking beyond, and in my Maker's fear,
“Than reign, adorn'd at noon, with garland's gay,
“And hear no whisper sweet at parting-day.
“Whatever ill thou deal, or sorrow send,
“Oh! God! be thou my portion, thou my friend!”

381

He said, and felt the unthankful heart subdued,
And calm, with faith in Heaven, his way pursued.

Now to the cave, Adullam, he repairs,
The mountain cave esteem'd in happier years.
Near it, the Shepherd of the Hill he spies,
(The face familiar.) David, earnest, cries,
“Haste hither! To my Father's house descend,
“I, in mean time, thy mountain charge will tend,
“Tell them that David needs the voice of friend!”

Jesse and all his Sons, with her, most dear!
(His Mother) the inspiring tidings hear,
And strive who first may reach the rocky cave,
David to hail, the bravest of the brave.
The Brethren, as on wings impetuous, fly.
Next Jesse hastes, the anxious Mother nigh,
“Welcome!” he said, “my Son! Oh! come with me,
“And leave to Courts their crimes and vanity!”
The Mother clasps her Child, then views him o'er,
And faltering speaks, “Oh! may we part no more!”

David began. “The Lord hath raised me up,
“And made with joy run o'er my mortal cup!

382

“The Lord hath cast me down, and I am now
“Made by his hand, with ponderous grief to bow!
“For me, alas! no olive branch hath waved!
“Saul seeks my life! whom I have served and saved!
“If restless Spirits round our dwelling roam,
“Who have no ties to earth, no friend, no home,
“Whose hearts from Saul's oppressions proudly rise,
“Who seek some fair and daring enterprize,
“Here let them haste! I will their Captain be!
“Goliath's sword be their security!”

Jesse look'd sad. The Brethren wondering pause!
The Mother nearer to her David draws;
“Take not the sword!” she said, “not harmless borne,
“For thou may'st die, and I may live to mourn!”

“My Mother!” he replied, “My choicest prize!
“From infancy, most honor'd in my eyes!
“Whose voice was ever music to my ear,
“And whom I only loved, but could not fear!
“Whom I have bless'd upon my bended knee!
“Did I forget thee, in prosperity?
“When many gifts, and greetings kind, I sent,
“Thyself the sun that cheer'd my firmament?

383

“Guide of my childhood, friend, and parent, dear!
“Whom absence taught me doubly to revere,
“Can e'er the hour arrive when thou shalt cease
“To haunt my midnight pillow, wafting peace?
“My Mother! the sweet hope that fills my breast
“(In hues divine, in Eden's colours drest!)
“Is, that the hour may come, nor distant be,
“When I may leave a hollow world for thee!
“Dwell near thyself, my first and warmest prayer!
“Taste of thy joys, and all thy sorrows share!
“Is there, transporting thought! such bliss in store,
“When fear shall haunt, and hope deceive no more!
“When spurning thorny pomp and splendid pain,
“(These fears, that dart brief madness thro' my brain)
“I to my quiet home may turn again?
“Sweet dreams! but ere I realize your scene,
“Terrific waves, enraged, may roll between!
“Yet will I onward look and humbly wait,
“With fond and lingering hope, for God is great!”

After a pause, to feeling sanctified,
David again. “My Parents! do not chide
“If I should utter words that may dismay,
“God will protect you still, and be your stay!

384

“A fearful man is Saul! to fury blind!
“No soft compunctions ever touch his mind!
“Me, wrongfully, he deems his bitterest foe,
“For, woeful hour! I laid Goliath low!
“When envy to his heart an entrance wins,
“When jealous thoughts arise, the storm begins!
“One victim sooths not his infuriate ire,
“But all his blood must perish, Son and Sire!
“I tremble for your lives! A noble band,
“(Such my resolves) shall David soon command!
“Then, Oh! my Father! Oh! my Mother, dear!
“My Brethren! you I bear to Moab near.
“He is my friend. There safe your lot be cast
“Till these disastrous fears and days be past.
“Tho' few the hours, my kindred! we must part!”
No voice is heard. The greet of heart, with heart,
Now passes, when they all return, and leave
David once more, to loneliness and eve.

What bands are those, that, at the twilight hour,
Up to Adullam's cave, all earnest, pour?
Men who from Saul's oppressions proudly rise,
And seek, with David, valiant enterprize!
Down to his Father's tent, he now hath gone,
And safe to Moab borne his Parents on.

385

David, and all he loves, there, safe abide;
When one drew near, to mortals scarce allied,
A reverend form, Gad! Prophet of the Lord!
To David thus he spake. “Attend my word!
“I, in this hour, am sent thy soul to cheer!
“Return to Judah! Saul no longer fear!
“He hath a chain the which he cannot break.
“Fear God, and him thy only refuge make!”
David, with reverence bow'd! To Judah's land,
Now turning, with his small and valiant band,
(Roaming unfriended, and still doom'd to roam)
Paran's wide wilderness he calls his home.

Here long he dwells, till want he felt or fear'd:
When to his Men he cried. “I just have heard
“That Nabal, who from us no harm hath found,
“In Carmel sheers his flocks, with stores around.
“We have preserved his sheep that here are spread,
“Tell him that now even David asks for bread.”

His ten young Men to Carmel pass along,
And thus to Nabal spake. “To do no wrong
“Come we, this hour. Our Chief, the Son of Saul!
“David! around thy flocks hath been a wall

386

“Both day and night, nor injury hath he done
“To all thou hast, wide-spread, beneath the sun.
“He seeks some portion of thy bounteous store.
“He would not take, but sent us to implore.”

Nabal (with wine o'erpower'd, with fiery eye,
With nose distain'd, and cheek of crimson dye,
And many a flask, and sparkling goblet nigh)
Furious exclaim'd. “I spurn thy beggar Chief!
“He send to Nabal's board to ask relief!
“Many there be who tread in David's ways,
“Who from their Masters break, and strive to raise
“Herds, flocks, with easy toil; by force or lie,
“Who rather beg than work and steal than buy!
“Hence! Bear this message to thy leader bold,
“My curse I give! My bounty I withhold!”

The Men to David haste and Nabal's speech
Plainly declare. Said David, “Instant reach
“Sword, dart, and bow! This Nabal we will teach
“How next to frame the words that have no sting.
“To punish we will fly on eagle's wing!
“Oh! pang severe! The world is hard to me,
“And if the Song I framed, my Theme should be,
“Cold is the heart of Proud Prosperity!”

387

This said, both David and his host proceed,
Eager, toward Carmel, bent on on deathful deed.

Often the noxious weed round rose entwines,
Ill-mated pair! So one by Nabal shines,
Fairer for contrast! Abigail, his Wife,
Of understanding clear and holy life,
On whom the influence of Heaven descends,
And for a brutal help-meet makes amends.
Tho' sometimes anguish would her spirit rend
Who in the partner never found the friend!
Fetter'd to one of different mould and mind,
One fierce and harsh, the other meek and kind;
One, with loud scoff, defying Earth and Sky,
And one chastised by faith and charity.

A Servant to her hastes and trembling cries,
“Death is at hand! Out where the desert lies,
“David, the Son of Saul! in war renown'd,
“Beside our flocks, long hath a refuge found.
“Tho' known to want he never harm hath done.
“Safely our lambs have o'er the mountains run,
“Yet miss'd we naught. So great was his defence,
“He was to us a Second Providence.

388

“Amid this festal hour he just hath sent
“To ask for Nabal's kindness. In his tent
“Nabal the message heard. Oh! learn and fear!
“That Son of Belial, who no word will hear,
“Scoff'd at the Men, pour'd forth a flood of pride,
“Their wants derided and their Lord defied!
“Prepare for death! for, ere the coming day,
“This Man of war will sweep us all away!”

Cried Abigail, “Haste! Bring our asses near.
“Burden them well with fruits, with wine to cheer!
“With corn, the best that Carmel can afford,
“And let ‘five Sheep’ be drest to meet my Lord!”

Now Abigail departs, the men before.
Round by the pine-clad hills, that ever roar,
She spies the Warrior Host! With fears awake,
To David fast she speeds and thus bespake.
“Oh! stay, my Lord! Regard thy Servant's call!
“On me, alone, let this thine anger fall!
“Receive my Offering, corn, and fruit, and wine!
“And, Oh! to mercy, let thy heart incline!
“This Son of Belial, Nabal, Child of Sin!
“All dark without, but blacker far within,
“Who human heart, by kindness, ne'er did win,

389

“Oh! spare him for my sake! The Lord on High
“Will guard thee, and his blessings multiply.
“Stedfast, thy storm-defying house shall be!
“The everlasting hills shall emblem thee!
“He who pursues thy soul shall stand alone,
“For thou shalt reign secure on Israel's throne.
“My Lord shall be (beyond this hour of strife)
“Bound in the bundle of Eternal Life!
“And when, at length, thou sitt'st, supreme in power,
“Joy will arise, from memory of this hour,
“That thou hast stemm'd thy spirit, and forborne
“To shed the blood which thou might'st live to mourn.”

David replied. “Thee, here, the Lord hath sent!
“His hand I see who rules the Firmament.
“Thou hast assuaged my deep and sore offence,
“And kept me back from deeds of violence.
“Blessed art thou, and blessings on thy head
“Henceforth descend! for, blood had David shed,
“(Scorning alike, impediment, or fear)
“But for thy voice and pity-pleading tear.
“Oh! Woman, homeward turn! In Nabal's eyes,
“Henceforth be thou his pearl, his choicest prize,
“For he is witless, thou art fair as wise!”

390

Slow she retired, unknowing and unknown,
That she, erelong, was born to grace a throne.

In his dismay, Saul hears, with glad surprise,
Where David, with his Men, in ambush lies.
To all his valiant hosts, for war prepared,
The Monarch, earnest, thus his thoughts declared.
“Will Jesse's Son, the outcast, lift your head?
“Clothe you, and all your boards with plenty spread?
“Will David give you his protecting hand,
“The teeming vineyard, and the fruitful land?
“Yet, till this hour, the tidings none will give,
“So David's blood might flow, that Saul might live.”

Led by Ahithophel, with serious brow,
Doeg advancing gave the prostrate bow.
Thus he began. “Oh, King, in season past,
“With old Ahimelech my lot was cast.
“There, David came, lonely, with danger scared,
“When the false Priest, the bounteous feast prepared;
“And when thy foe departed, lo! he gave
“Goliath's sword, and call'd him bold and brave!”
Saul shouted. “Haste to Nob, the Prophet's place,
“Drag him, with pity none, himself, his race
“To Salem, I, from life will them erase.”

391

Now to the King they come. The Priest drew nigh.
Ahimelech, with dim and tearful eye;
(Whose pallid cheek, fast trembling, told his fear)
When thus he spake. “Why should'st thou call me here,
“With these my Brethren, all from evil free,
“Who hate thy foes, Oh! King, and honour thee?
“Let truth be heard. To reason's voice incline,
“And let compassion plead for age like mine.
“What is my crime that thus thy wrath should rise?
“Pure is my heart and free from all disguise!
“Delusive dreams thy ancient Servant bound.
“He knew not David, with thy foes, was found.
“This, in the presence of my God, I say,
“Whom I have loved, and served, and still obey.”

Saul thus. “Ahimelech, thou art my scorn!
“Thou stand'st with shame opprest, of honours shorn!
“False at the heart! In vain for mercy call,
“Thou and thy house shall perish, one and all!

Turning to those around, he utter'd, “Haste!
“These Traitors, fain would lay our country waste,
“And me your Prince destroy. Fall on our foe!
“And let each perish with the mortal blow.”

392

Th' Attendants pause. “What!” cried the wrathful King,
“Are you too false? Doeg! thy weapon bring!
“Lay on! and let the memory of this day
“Rebellion, from her feast of death, dismay!”
Doeg advances, fierce as arctic blast.
Upon the Priests, his furious gaze he cast,
Then dealt, with fearful might, the slaughter round,
Till every eye perpetual sleep had bound!

Saul loud exclaim'd. “This debt of justice o'er,
“Cautious we now must look, behind, before,
“And see where next to roll the crimson flood!
“Blood whets afresh the appetite for blood!
“Hath David friends?” Ahithophel replied,
“Parents and Brethren!” Saul exulting cried,
“I have one Man with eyes estranged from tears,
“Who never starts, at blood, with woman's fears!
“Doeg! haste thou to Bethlehem, and slay
“Even all his house! It were a pleasant day

393

“To know that David and his traiterous Race
“Were all gone down—to their last resting place!”
Doeg, (his sword unsheath'd) arose with speed,
Nor second call required for cruel deed.
Ah! impotent in malice! David flies,
Himself, with all he loves, and safely lies
In Moab's land, where he thy wrath defies!

Doeg, returning, thus. “In vain I sped!
“In vain, I Bethlehem sought, thy foes are fled!
“And whither, none might name.” Saul, frowning, sigh'd.
When one (th' afflicted King, approaching) cried,
“In Keilah David dwells.” Saul spake and smiled.
“Blessed art thou who hast my care beguiled.
“If Keilah be his dwelling, let us haste,
“The traitor slay, the place, the people waste.”

While hastening on, some to the King draw near,
“Forbear!” they said. “David opprest with fear

394

“Keilah hath left, and now 'mid Ziph appears,
“That stony wilderness, thro' untold years,
“Where rocks on rocks, up to the skies are piled,
“The seat of tempests, barren, bleak and wild!”
“Blessed! are ye,” cried Saul. “Within your breast
“Compassion dwells. Now take you food nor rest,
“Till back to Ziph you speed. View well the place.
“Its lonely ways, its secret windings, trace!
“And where the Fiend that haunts my spirit hides,
“Mark, and prepare to be your Monarch's guides.”

To Ziph they haste, exultant. Saul at hand,
(With threatenings loud) follows the warlike band.
Thro' many a day they search, with eager eye,
'Mid savage wastes, and woods that lengthening lie,
Toiling, with toil in vain.

Near was a cave,
Over whose mouth the trees luxuriant wave;
The entrance small, extending far behind,
Thro' which unceasing past the surly wind;
Whilst a dark stream unnoticed stole along,
And ceaseless gave the sleep-enticing song!
David, as day declined, approach'd the spot.
With joy he mark'd the green, sequester'd grot,

395

Its foliage deep, the water gliding by,
And enter'd far, from Saul and night, to fly.
What terrors shake his breast! What fears prevail!
What horrors hang upon his visage pale!
Some enter there, awhile, to seek repose!
And now, o'ercome with sleep, their eyes they close.
Trembling with dread and silent as the grave,
David, his ear, to catch each whisper, gave.
Now all was still. Within his heart he cried,
“A Pilgrim, I, cast on the desert wide!
“Father of all! in depths of darkness shine!
“And still preserve my life, for power is Thine!”

Silence prevails. With doubtful step and slow,
Forward he moves! His blood forbore to flow,
When, stretch'd upon his royal robes, he spied
Saul, and his Followers, slumbering by his side!
Awhile he paused, uncertain, if to hide
Deep in the cave's recesses, or provide
Safety in flight. Again he look'd. Inspired
By the quick thought, he mark'd the King, attired
With purple garment. Part, he stoop'd and tore,
And hastening forth, the trophy joyful bore!
Lifting his heart to Heaven, in grateful prayer,
And owning that no human hand was there!

396

Up where the wild goats play, his Band he found.
He told his tale: and now (with sorrow drown'd)
Deplored, that he should lift his hand, and rend
Even from the Lord's Anointed, once his friend,
Skirt of his royal robe! In wonder lost,
David's fierce warriors hear, nor fearing cost,
Plead instant to descend, and there engage
Saul, and consume him with o'erwhelming rage.
David exclaim'd. “Forbear! Respect my will!
“Revenge shall not her poison here distil!
“The Lord's Anointed I will reverence still!

The morning spreads thro' Heaven her robe of light.
Saul from deep slumber rises. At the sight
He spurns the drowsy feeling, and, away,
Hastes, in his ambush deep, to seize his prey.
David, amid the crags his Monarch spies.
Toward him he speeds! “Oh! stop,” aloud he cries.
“I am thy Servant!” At the well-known sound,
Saul pauses, and astonish'd gazes round!
From rock to rock, like the wild tenants near,
David descends. Afar he casts his spear!
And now before the King obedient bends!
“Hear me!” he said. “Oh! Saul, we once were friends!

397

“Where is my wrong that thou should'st thus pursue
“Down to the grave, one faithful still and true?
“In yonder cave I saw thee slumbering lie,
“Thy Followers stretch'd around. If evil eye
“David had cherish'd, had I borne away
“This fragment of thy vesture?—Monarch! say!”

Saul, trembling, heard. In thoughtful mood, amazed,
His Followers on the bending David gazed,
Doubting if they might trust so strange a sight.
At length the King exclaim'd. “Still my delight!
“Oh! Son, I honour thee! In evil hour,
“I sought thy life, I fear'd thy fame, thy power!
“But I have err'd, and thou shalt hence appear
“Great in thy Monarch's eyes and doubly dear.”
David before him knelt, when, by his side,
Young Jonathan appear'd. Aloud he cried,
“Rise! Friend and Brother, Rise! Such joy below,
“I never felt! I dared not hope to know!”

A Herald hastens on! To Saul he speeds!
Thus he began. “Let Israel, deck'd in weeds,
“Long mourn her loss! Samuel is dead—our Sire!
“I saw him droop, and, calm in faith, expire.

398

“In Ramah, lo! he lies, whilst round him stand,
“Silent, in sad array, the weeping Band!”

Saul trembles. David in his anguish sigh'd,
When Jonathan, the silence breaking, cried,
“Where shall we solace find? Tears long will flow,
“Our strength is gone! our confidence laid low!
“Who now shall tell of Heaven and point the way?
“Our glory is departed! Dark the day,
“That over Israel lowers, since he is fled,
“Our Friend! our Prophet! Who, in Samuel's stead,
“Shall ask from Heaven deliverance from our foes,
“And sooth a nation's fears, a nation's woes!”

“And the King said to Doeg, Turn thou, and fall upon the Priests. And Doeg the Edomite turned, and he fell upon the Priests, and slew on that day fourscore and five persons that did wear a linen ephod.” I Samuel, chap. XXII. ver. 18.

“And David went thence to Mizpeh of Moab: and he said unto the King of Moab, Let my father and my mother, I pray thee, come forth, and be with you.” I Samuel, chap. XXII. ver. 3.

399

BOOK XXII.

David escapes from Saul. Saul spared by David. Their reconciliation. The final parting of David and Jonathan. Saul again incited to jealousy by Ahithophel. David on the Hill Mizar. David warned of his danger by a Stranger. Saul recalled, from pursuing after David, by the advance of the Philistines. Before the battle, Ahithophel proposes to Saul to consult some Witch.

Ahithophel to Saul in secret spake.
“Are not thy doubts alive, thy fears awake?
“This Shepherd Man, whose Sire all hearts despise,
“Shall he, from dust, to serve on Princes rise?

400

“Rebellions plot in Israel's peaceful state.
“And steal the people's hearts—from ‘Saul the Great?’
“Prosperous, Oh, King! thy reign, I fain would see,
“Nor will I, thee to serve, from danger flee!”

Days pass along, when Jonathan drew nigh
David he thus addrest. “Rise! Instant fly!
“Saul seeks once more thy life, with fiercer hate!
“This hour and safety is, the next too late!”
The Friends embrace. No lingering hope to cheer,
The look of horror tells their mutual fear.
Now, as the sun retired, and all was still,
Save the trees roaring on th' adjacent hill,
Yonng Jonathan returns with solemn tread,
Whilst David, sad at heart, despairing, fled
From haunt to haunt, from wild to forest deep,
And when he stopp'd with toil, he stopp'd to weep!

Saul learns the way he takes. With Warriors bold,
David, like beast, he hunts, from hold to hold.
And now the Monarch on Hachilah's waste,
With hideous mountains round, exulting paced.
He, with his followers, quaffs the sparkling wine,
Nor sees, apace, the lordly sun decline.

401

The evening closes fast. Th' intemperate crew,
Around their King, their slumbering bodies threw.

David, with cautious step approach'd them near.
(Abishai by his side.) He mark'd the spear
Saul had so often cast, with murderous aim!
Plunged in the ground, whilst Abner, known to fame,
Slept at his Monarch's feet. Aroused to ire,
Abishai whisper'd, “With intense desire,
“Let me dispatch thy foes—the Son, the Sire!
“So shall the crown be thine!” David replied,
“Restrain thy vehemence, lest Heaven should chide.
“Guiltless, the Lord's Anointed none may slay,
“And I, for all my wrongs, will good repay.”
Now, drawing near, David the spear upraised.
The cruise, Abishai seized. Both wondering gazed
At the sleep-conquer'd foes, then earnest strode
Up to the loftiest crags, their past abode.

David once more the back ward glance bestows,
When in his heart, sudden, the thought arose,
Himself once more before his King to cast!
Down the steep mountain's side he hastens fast:

402

He stops! He shouts! “Abner! from slumber rise!
“Art thou thus stretch'd on earth, the brave! the wise!
“Why didst thou suffer, drown'd in impotence,
“Me, to invade and bear these trophies thence?
“Behold the cruise of water, sweet and clear!
“Behold, and wonder, this thy Monarch's spear!”

Saul upward starts! The well-known voice he hears!
He feels the danger past, and melts to tears.
“Approach! my Son!” he cried. The Son drew nigh,
When David thus. “Whilst thou didst yonder lie,
“Sleeping (thy guards around) on thee I gazed!
“No evil thought was mine. No sword I raised.
“To serve thee I would fly, with duty strong,
“But never, never, move to do thee wrong!”
Saul falls upon his neck. “My Son!” he said,
“Crimes of deep crimson rest upon my head.
“Forgive me! I will hence thy friend be found.
“The moon, the stars, long shall pursue their round,
“And witness Saul's contrition. Thou shalt find,
“Henceforth, thy grateful Monarch, just as kind.”
David low bow'd, submissive at his feet,
When, earnest, Jonathan advanced to greet,

403

Joy in his eyes. Whilst all their loves admire,
Arm join'd in arm, both to the woods retire
And there, luxurious, far from mortal view,
Thro' the long hour their converse sweet pursue.

“Hence,” cried the Prince, “in Salem's Royal Tower,
“Pleasure on thee, her copious gifts shall shower,
“And prosperous days, abundant, well repay
“For all the thorns that long have strew'd thy way!”

At Jonathan, whose hopes no limit knew,
David the serious look, unwonted, threw.
Solemn, he spake. “I, as these wood-leaves fall,
“Shall one day perish by the hand of Saul!”
“Not so!” said Jonathan. “The storm is o'er!
“The haven thou hast gain'd, to leave no more!”
David thus answer'd. “I have served thy Sire,
“Faithful, as well became, but I, a fire
“Have mark'd within his heart! Now, as the sky,
“'Mid evening's quiet hour, he gratefully
“Smiles on all round, anon, with fury blind,
“He rises, like the tempest-stirred wind,
“(Fierce jealousy within) when he would send,
“Down to perdition black, his dearest friend!

404

“The world is wide. Awhile from death reprieved,
“I will not trust who oft hath sore deceived!
“I will go forth to Gath, and whilst I own
“Faith in my God, and worship him alone,
“Look on to nobler scenes. Best friend, and dear,
“The parting hour is come! Our sojourn here,
“Must oft be dash'd with care, but Heaven is near!
“Farewell!”

As Jonathan, with grief opprest,
Hard at his heart the hand of David prest,
He look'd upon the ground, whilst in his mind,
The big thought labour'd, utterance how to find.
At length he cried. “Oh! hear me once again.
“The Lord who rules alone the Sons of Men,
“My Brother! he will raise thee yet to power!
“Fast comes, my Father knows, and I, the hour,
“When thou shalt sit secure on Israel's Throne,
“And Judah bend the knee to thee alone.
“One thing I ask. In bright and better days,
“When thou thy head above thy foes shalt raise,
“If I should die! as something in my breast
“Whispers I shall, and from these troubles rest,
“Think of my Offspring! Let thy love extend,
“Oh, David! to the Children of thy friend!”

405

David no word return'd. He look'd on high!
He clasp'd the hand of Jonathan! A sigh
Trembling burst forth! All objects veil'd in shade,
The covenant of heart, with heart, was made!
Each weeps aloud! They part, with mutual pain,
Never, on Earth, to speak, to meet again!

Saul droops his head. Ahithophel draws near.
Thus he began. “Is there no hour of cheer?
“No pleasant interlude from ills we fear?
“Why hangs my Lord his head? Repose on me!
“Throw open wide thy thoughts, and let there be
“Free converse, for my heart is knit to thee.
“Tell me, Oh, King! If I can do or say
“Aught that thy friends may serve, thy foes dismay.”

Saul cried. “In agony, Oh! hear thy Lord!
“I am confin'd, even I, as with a cord.
“A thousand times my bitterest foe I see,
“And yet he 'scapes unharm'd. How this should be,
“I know not, and, with unseen fetters bound,
“Seem shorn of strength. If I thy love have found.
“(Companion and choice counsellor combined!)
“Speak, and give solace to a wounded mind.”

406

Ahithophel began. “The core I know,
“Oh! King, of thine unutterable woe.
“Would that the cause were vain! Now hear me, Sire.
“To serve thee is my first and chief desire.
“Unfeign'd affection makes me thus declare,
“Thou hast no peace while David breathes the air!”
“I know it,” Saul replied. “Now plainly say,
“How shall I best my mortal pang allay?”
“How? Rid thee of thy foe! an easy thing!
“Hear me, in this most solemn hour. Oh, King!
“To Mizar speed, yon hill, where David hides.
“With valiant men surround its rocky sides.
“I know it well! My spies have watch'd him there!
“I know his haunts! Around yon mountain bare,
“Present with spears th' impenetrable line,
“And who shall doubt that triumph then is thine.
“Thus arm'd for war, this is the only fear,
“Lest when thou see the trembling Traitor near,
“Thy heart, so prone to mercy, should relent,
“And he, once more, escape with banishment.”

407

Saul answer'd, whilst his eye intenser hate,
Shot terrible, “Shall I forget my state,
“And parley, when my life, my throne, my all,
“With voice of thunder for destruction call?
“To pleasure, I will bid my last adieu!
“Nor smile again till David dead I view!”

There was a Grot upon the mountain's head,
Bedeck'd with crystals clear, with moss o'erspread,
Whilst flowers of every scent, and every hue,
On every side, in wild profusion grew.
A silver stream, stole from the clifts among;
That with few notes gave forth its simple song,
Sweet to the ear of him who past along.
This, by the grot, slow glided, and the place,
Seem'd made (if such there be) for Elfin Race,
With taste so subtile for creation's pride,
Who only on enchanted ground will 'bide.
Here David dwelt, and tho' a thousand cares
Sometimes would rouse his spirit, unawares,
And force th' impetuous sigh, yet chiefly here,
He half forgot the world, its hope, its fear;
Partook of joys that shall with Heaven endure,
And converse held with God and Spirits pure.

408

Oft, from mankind afar, at even time,
Up to the mountain's head he loved to climb,
The sun's declining flood of gold, to trace,
To mark the Host of Heaven begin their race,
When orb on orb, thronging the vaulted sky,
On wings of fire, mysterious, seem'd to fly,
Each moment more magnificent and fair,
The earth all still, and silence thro' the air;
Till, 'mid th' unutterable glory wide,
Raised into holy rapture, thus he cried.
“When I survey the Heavens, in pomp array'd,
“The moon, the countless stars which thou hast made,
“This spectacle, the outskirts of thy throne!
“This Temple, throng'd with myriad worlds unknown!
“Lord! what is Man, amid so vast a scene,
“That thou should'st visit him, so low! so mean!
“What is the Son of Man—that thou should'st smile,
“And fix thy heart upon a worm so vile!
“Stupendous mercy! Matchless grace, and free!
“All creatures, dust! Thyself, Infinity!”

A stately Form advances, whence unknown,
With aspect high, such as might awe a throne.

409

Thus he began. “The warning word I bear!
“Spirits, molesting, hover in the air,
“And perils rise, for which thou must prepare!
“Where is thy shaft? thy buckler? Where thy spear?
“Thou dream'st of safety, and, lo! Saul is near!
“Around the mountain, crowd, with sword and bow,
“Ten thousand warriors, bent to lay thee low!
“Fly! Search the safe retreat, if such there be,
“And I, or far, or near, will succour thee.”
David exclaim'd. “But who and whence art thou?
“Such dignity, with that commanding brow
“O'erwhelms me! Heedless of the danger round,
“Tell me thy name, thy home, and whither bound!”
He answer'd. “Storms and tempests round thee blow!
“I am thy friend, enough for thee to know!”
David endured new feeling of dismay,
When he beheld the Stranger walk away,
(No parting greet:) with ease that seem'd not good,
Now climb the hill, till on the brow he stood
As tho' a shadow moved, not flesh and blood!

David, to fear, aroused, his helmet braced,
And to a secret winding, earnest, paced,

410

Death stands before! Backward he turns his flight!
He seeks the distant pass, his foes in sight,
And saved from death alone, by coming night!

Saul shouts aloud, his heart with fury fired,
“The precious hour is come, so long desired!
“We saw our foe, stripp'd of his vaunted pride,
“Who, like a partridge, skimm'd the mountain's side.
“We saw him cast his helm, his spear, away,
“And, but for pitchy night, had seized our prey.
“When morn arrives, our trump the chase shall sound,
“Our sword, with traitor's blood, shall dye the ground!”

Young Jonathan, at midnight, hurries near!
“For nobler foe, Oh! Saul, prepare thy spear!”
(Breathless he cries) “Unsheath thy keenest blade!
“The fierce Philistines, inroad, far, have made!
“Like ocean, wrought to fury, on they haste!
“Our cities desolate, our vineyards waste!”
Saul, pallid, hears, and gnashes slow his teeth,
Then, furious, thus. “Be there another wreath
“To crown our brows! That day, that triumph o'er,
“The fierce Philistines crush'd to rise no more,

411

“We will return, this Jesse's Son o'erthrow!
“And o'er him shout—‘Our last and bitterest foe!’”
This said, 'mid darkness, warring with dismay,
Saul, and his army, backward urge their way.

The morning dawns, when Jonathan thus spake,
“Hear me, my Sire! nor quick to wrath awake.
“Why would'st thou, David, Israel's Champion, slay?
“Have we such men to spare, in such a day!
“Let him, in peace, before thy presence stand,
“And he, once more, from foes shall rid our land.”
The King exclaim'd. “Is David, in thy sight,
“Sole honour'd? May no second win the fight?
“Shall he be sought, to lead the wars of Saul,
“Who but ascends when thou and I shall fall!
“Tho' thou th'imploringhand, till noon, should'st raise,
“Sole arbiter of all my thoughts and ways!
“Be mine to guide the battle! Mine the praise!”

Saul hastens toward the foe. And now he spies,
From the near hill their countless pennons rise,
Whilst thro' his veins the icy feeling flies!
Ahithophel beheld his Master's eye,
Its wonted fire subdued. The evening sky

412

Linger'd, while all was calm, when, bending low,
Thus he essay'd to sooth the Monarch's woe.
“Be not dismay'd, my Lord. A thought is mine,
“Which thou shalt hear. If folly, to decline
“Demands no sacrifice. It is to seek
“Some witch of perish'd eye, and haggard cheek,
“And ask her of the battle! Who shall win,
“Who fall, and who survive!” A fearful grin,
Ghastly, as tho' from demon dreams awake,
Sat on Saul's face, when (whispering) thus he spake,
Distracted, “I to Endor's Wither'd Dame,
“(Soon as the west conceals her dying flame)
“Alone, will haste! I, in this hour of need,
“By wizard arts, the future page will read!”

“I will remember thee from the Hill Mizar.” Psalm, XLII. ver. 6,

413

BOOK XXIII.

Saul's visit to the Witch of Endor. Preparation for the Battle. Saul's despondency. Saul and Jonathan slain. David rescues their Bodies. His lamentation. David crowned King over Judah.

Now is the dead of night. The winds are high,
And livid lightning blazes thro' the sky;
While, 'mid majestic roar, and lengthen'd peal,
Earth, from her base, convulsive, seems to reel.
The Witch, at Endor, o'er her glimmering fire,
Sits, muttering baneful words, and, as expire,
(Beneath her sight) the embers, one by one,
She points her finger till the work is done!

414

Thro' midnight, round, her ghastly eye she casts,
As, thro' the half-closed wicker, lightning blasts
Shed horrid day. Shapes and strange shadows, there,
Seem'd charged, of Hell, greets from the damn'd to bear.
A knock is heard without! “Stay! Stay!” she cries,
As the fresh flash, in splendor, cross'd her eyes.
Again the knock! “What Herald from the Dead,
“Near my abode, uncall'd-for, dares to tread,”
(The Witch exclaim'd) “by restless demons led,
“Whate'er thou art, advance!” The door unfolds.
A timid step is heard. Fresh thunder rolls!
And by the light of the distemper'd sky,
A Form is seen—a trembling Mortal nigh!

The self-borne taper glides along serene,
Pale, motionless. And now a hand is seen!
The shadow flits along, then disappears!
In vain the path he follows. Higher fears
Now roused the Stranger, as, appall'd, he spied
The Thing, the Form, he sought, to death allied.
So thin, so wither'd, with so wild a stare,
(A character disown'd of earth and air)
He back again had drawn, when, lo! her eyes,
In prominence, wax fierce, whilst from them flies

415

Fire, streaming! such as made him stand aghast,
Nor heed the thunder's peal, the lightning's blast.
She cried, “What seek'st thou?” Ravens, from without,
Now gave their croak, while voices seem'd to shout
The spirits of the tempest! who combined
Their own shrill music, with the fitful wind,
Heard 'mid the dying roar. “I come,” he said,
“To rouse from his repose the silent dead!
“Call up the Prophet Samuel!” As he spake,
The Witch, to sudden gust of wrath awake,
Rose, and more furious on the Stranger gazed;
His heart consuming, as her wand she raised.
She answer'd, “Mortal! from perdition flee!
“Hast thou not heard of Saul's malign decree?
“Ah! why that limb convulsed? that trembling frame?
“That clasped hand, and look of smother'd shame?”
The Stranger thus. “No human eye is near,
“I swear that thou may'st hope, but need'st not fear.
“It is the hour when tempests range the air,
“And all without is horror, all despair,
“But bleaker, ruder tempests here do blow!
“No common mind the future seeks to know,
“No common gift shall he who pleads bestow!
“Call up the Prophet Samuel!” On the ground,
Stedfast, her eye she fix'd, in musings drown'd,

416

Muttering faint words, with hand outstretch'd and slow,
Waving in doubtful import to and fro.
Eager she looks! “What see'st thou?” he inquired.
She answer'd, with the rage of Hell inspired,
(Whilst on the seat her limbs unconscious fall)
“Thou hast deceived me! Thou thyself art Saul!”

After a pause, where terror rived the heart,
Saul mark'd the Witch uprise, then, shuddering, start!
Earnest, he her addrest. “My word is fate.
“Say! what dost thou behold? Each scene relate!”
“I see,” the Witch replied, “a Host arise
“Up from the Earth, fair Spirits of the Skies!
“And one amid the train, whom all attend
“Their Prince, to whom, even I my blessing send.”
“His Form?” the King inquired. The Sorceress cried,
“He is an aged Man, with th' mantle wide
“Thrown over him.” Then Saul, rejoicing, knew
That Samuel rose, and gave the homage due!
“Why hast thou roused me?” slow the Prophet said,
“Oh! rash and thoughtless! from my clay-cold bed?”
Saul answer'd. “Me, the raging foe surround!
“God is departed! Mine is grief profound.
“Each way is hedged up! To thee I fly!
“Thou wast of old my hope, when cares were nigh,

417

“Oh! tell me, gently breathe upon my ear
“What path to take, opprest, o'erwhelm'd with fear.”

Samuel replied. “Wherefore inquire of me,
“Since God, in anger, hath forsaken thee?
“Know! that His Hand, whom all the stars obey,
“Hath rent from Saul, the diadem away!
“Thou art borne down, with jealous hate, with pride!
“With cruelty thy every path is dyed!
“Thou talkest of the realms, unknown to care,
“As if, Oh! Saul, thou hadst a portion there!
“Wide were the road to Heaven, if locks of gore,
“Dripping like thine with murder, and the roar
“Of frantic passion, found the fair ascent
“Up-leading to the Blissful Firmament!
“Thy glory is departed! He, thy scorn,
“David! to sit on Israel's Throne is born!
“Thou, and thy Sons, to-morrow, shall all tread
“Time's misty verge, and join with me the dead!”
The accents cease. Saul, with despair opprest,
Sinks half on earth, while fury fills his breast.
Fain, to rebellion, he would Heaven oppose,
And, round, his arm, in weak resistance, throws;

418

Till, 'mid the storms that o'er his spirit sweep,
Prostrate he falls, and yields his sense to sleep.

The sun, unmoved by earthly things, uprose,
And o'er the scene his wonted radiance throws.
The King aroused by the refulgent beam,
Starts, glad to 'scape the soul-consuming dream:
His spear he seizes, and, with wilder'd mind,
Hastens once more his warlike hosts to find.

Abner and Joab met their King and cried,
“Hear'st thou the trumpet's voice, the shout of pride?
“On yonder hill, like sands upon our sight,
“Philistia waits, and dares thee to the fight!”
Saul answer'd. “Let the valiant ranks prepare!
“Our scythed chariots form in order fair!
“Whilst all, with spear erect, await the cry
“That sends them on to Death or Victory!”

Abner, and Jonathan, and Joab, glide
(Like the fleet skiff, o'er ocean's rolling tide)
From rank to rank, from martial'd side to side.
The foe, loud-shouting, to the vale descends,
While the shrill cymbal, with the uproar, blends.

419

Abner to Saul advances. Thus he spake.
“Hear'st thou, Oh! King, the sky with thunders shake?
“Give forth the voice that we, with high disdain,
“Our foes may meet, down on Gilboa's plain!”
Saul pauses, with the vacant eye in air,
And knew, that hour, how bitter was despair!
Fast, Jonathan draws near. “My Sire!” he cried,
“Mark you our foes advance, with daring stride!
“Why sorrowful? My life to death I give!
“What Son, a Father's tear can see, and live!
“Oh! look and smile! The day may yet be won!
“Our confidence is God!” “My Son! my Son!”
Saul answer'd, “I have thoughts I may not tell!
“What sound is that?” “The trumpet's blasting swell!”
Said Jonathan, “Oh, speak, and o'er yon plain,
“We will pour forth the flood of Saul's disdain!”
As tho' from dreams awake, the King look'd round;
His mail he braced, his plumaged helmet bound;
His spear upraised; with the fierce breath inhaled,
That linger'd long, and only half prevail'd,
He spake (no shout was his) “Behold the foe!
“Our sword is heavy, and our hearts we know!”

420

Israel descends, waving the banner proud,
(With shrill-toned trumpet, and the timbrel loud)
Down to the subject vale. The fight begins!
The mutual rank, the sword, impetuous, thins,
And hard the combat rages! Fiercer far,
Ranks join with ranks, and swell the din of war.

Abner, with eagle speed, to Saul repairs.
“Thy will?” he cried. The Monarch wildly stares!
“Where is my Armour-Bearer?” slow he spake.
“Slain!” Abner said, “amid yon crimson lake!”
“Where is Abinadab, that o'er the plain
“Dealt vengeance?” “Slain!” “And Jonathan?” “All slain!”
“Haste!” cried the King, down to the hottest fray.
“Thy might, unrivall'd, yet may win the day!”
Fiercer, the battle rages. From the fight,
Lo! Israel turns, and safety seeks in flight!
That moment, on the King, a lance descends!
The Monarch writhes, and, o'er his routed friends,
Casts the despairing gaze! His charger near,
He mounts, and flies upon the wing of fear!
Whilst o'er the ground his blood far backward shone,
The horse, unrein'd, impetuous bears him on.

421

At length (the hour deploring of his birth)
Remote from friend and foe he sinks to earth.

Rising, and feebly resting on his spear,
One, an Amalekite, advances near.
“Hither!” said Saul. The man approach'd the place
And mark'd the warrior's wound, the warrior's face!
The Monarch thus. “Slay me! for pity's sake!
“Saul asks this kindness. Strike! Let cowards quake!”
The man his sword upraised, and thro' his side
Forced it! He dies! The crown, with purple dyed,
The glittering bracelets that around him play,
He seizes, and rejoicing bears away.

The battle won, th' exulting Victor toils,
O'er slaughter'd hosts, and heaps of mighty spoils.
Some from the distance speed, and bear along
An unknown corse, gigantic once and strong,
All mangled. One, beholding, joyous cries.
“Saul! Saul! Our foe, in death, before us lies!”
The shout, Philistia's frantic legion pours,
Terrific, as when madden'd ocean roars.
Now, fast succeeding, heedless, dragg'd along,
Saul's Sons are borne, unconscious of their wrong.

422

Gazing on Jonathan (no mourner nigh!)
“Behold our mightiest foe!” aloud they cry.
“Hence, shall Philistines far their terrors spread,
“And Israel, crush'd, no longer lift her head!”

“The vanquish'd strip!” the victor King exclaims,
“Glory, from us, shall take her choicest names!
“Sever yon head, that once was Saul's,” he cried,
“Now stretch his breathless offspring by his side!
“Then, in the house of Ashtaroth, display
“Their spear and shield in memory of this day.
“Before the dews of night around us fall,
“These victims we will place on Bethshan's wall,
“Whilst, on our Gods, the nations round shall call.”

Must he who Israel's sceptre sway'd, so late
In purple clad, and served in royal state;
Must his brave Son, to every virtue known,
Hon'ring, but honor'd not by earthly throne;
Must these, all mangled, meet the eye of day,
The gazer's scoff, with pity far away?
Is there no noble Sire, no valiant Son,
Burial to give, to men who fields have won?
The great, are great in life, the brave are brave,
But who their greatness owns beyond the grave!

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Who genuine sighs, who tears, not venial, shed,
Save the sad heart-taught children of the dead!
Yet shall not you, Oh! Jonathan, Oh! Saul,
None heeding you, be stretch'd on Bethshan's wall,
One faithful breast shall mourn your fallen state,
One valiant man your honours vindicate!

David, at Ziklag dwells. One hastens near,
Breathless, as tho' opprest with freezing fear:
Thus he began. “The furious fight hath been!
“I have beheld it! I that fight have seen!”
“How fares it?” David spake. The Man replied,
“The green sod round with human gore is dyed!”
“How fares it?” with an aspect sterner grown,
David exclaim'd. He cried, “With grief I own
“Israel hath fled! I saw the vanquish'd fly!
“I saw brave Jonathan, with thousands, die!
“I saw, mad courser, from the fearful fray,
“Saul, once the Great! ungovern'd, bear away!
“I follow'd, and at length the Monarch found,
“Ghastly, his blood distaining far the ground.
“Me, he implored to free him from his pain.
“I slew him, nor the spoil wilt thou disdain!
“I cast this crown, these bracelets at thy feet!
“And thee, as Israel's King, exulting greet!”

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Thus David. “Didst thou, bane of Israel's land!
“Against the Lord's Anointed, lift thy hand?
“Hither!” to one he cried. The Man drew nigh.
Aloud he said, “Yon murderer, let him die!”
He falls! while David spake, with grief opprest,
“On his own head, his blood for ever rest!”

David, to Jabesh Gilead strait descends.
“You all are brave!” he said, “my noblest friends.
“One prayer is mine. Our Monarch, Saul, is slain,
“And one, alas! more dear!” O'erwhelm'd with pain,
He paused, whilst in the tumult of his soul,
From his closed eye the tear of anguish stole.
“He loved him,” each to each, the whisper gave.
“His heart was knit with Jonathan the brave.”
David again. “Let us, with ceaseless pains,
“By stealth, or strength, rescue their dear remains.”
The Men of Jabesh Gilead, shouted, “Speed!”
“We glad will follow where our Lord may lead.”

A rescued captive, fleeing, passes near,
When David thus. “Canst thou our spirits cheer,
“And say, Oh! Man, where Saul, and all his race,
“Invite their friends, their cruel foes disgrace?”

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He cried, “On Bethshan's walls they may be found,
“Pierced with the spear, the scoff of gazers round!”
David no answer gave. With feeling strong,
All knew their duty, and fast pass along
Toward Bethshan's wall, while silence tells their woe,
That such dishonour those they loved should know.
Near to the place arrived, David thus spake.
“The evening far advanced, our stand we take,
“Here in this sheltering wood. When night doth hide,
“With her convenient robe, creation wide,
“Forth will we issue!” Now deep midnight reigns,
And frees the dreaming captive from his chains.
Whilst the Philistines round in slumber lay,
The dead they seize, and bear them far away.

To Ziklag hastening, David, near him spied
A verdant cypress, branching far and wide.
The scene around was fair, the sky was clear.
“Stop!” he exclaim'd. “The sepulchre be here,
“This lordly hill, far gazing o'er the plain,
“Shall hold our Monarch's dust, in battle slain.”
Beneath the tree (that cast its peaceful shade
O'er the rude mountain grave, that friendship made,
Where pomp was not, nor folly's vain parade)

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David upon the mangled King look'd down,
His pomp, all fled! no royalty! no crown!
No vestige of the high imperial state,
Which till that hour attended Saul the Great.
At length he said. “My many wrongs are past,
“And I their memory to the winds do cast!”

Silence prevail'd. David, with grief opprest,
Again beheld, and, mourning, smote his breast!
But when from Jonathan the veil he tore,
And saw his face, still lovely, stain'd with gore;
The eye that late each generous feeling told,
Now rayless, with his limbs all stiff and cold,
Roused into anguish for the fallen friend,
His heart, with sighs convulsive, seem'd to rend.
When thus (the tear fast falling) loud he cried.
“Oh! Youth revered! had I been near thy side,
“This sword to succour thee, thou hadst not died!
“Shall I the praise withhold, the sigh restrain,
“Now sorrow is unheard, and tears are vain?
“More precious than the light! in abject state
“Amid a world, wide, bleak, and desolate,
“No refuge, toss'd as on a stormy sea,
“One friend I found and Jonathan was he!

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“Israel's first earthly trust, and Judah's pride,
“See where they lie! whom death must not divide.
“Saul view'd whole hosts, before his sword, retire,
“Nor lagg'd the Hero-Son behind the Sire!
“Oh! Askalon, behold not thou our tear!
“Let not the tidings, Gath, exulting, hear!
“Swifter than eagles they advanced to fight!
“Stronger than lions was their arm of might!
“Gilboa! be thou stripp'd of mist and rain,
“For thou beheld'st our hope, our glory slain!
“Who now shall wave our banners to the wind?
“Whose dart shall leave the winged blast behind?
“How are the mighty fallen! O'er the dead,
“Daughters of Israel, weep! Your pride is fled,
“Ye mourning minstrels sigh, and hang the head!
“Oh! Jonathan, thy mortal race is o'er!
“Yon moon shall wax and wane, but never more,
“With thee, must David hill and valley range,
“Hear thy kind speech, and faithful vows exchange!
“The long farewell is past! Oh, thought of dread!
“Not to return, my one true friend is dead!
“And I am left, to hopeless grief a prey,
“Alone, to toil along life's rugged way!
“Tho' thou hast joined the mansions of the blest,
“Wilt thou not sometimes in the hour of rest,

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“With converse sweet my drooping heart relieve,
“And throw fair visions round the couch of eve?
“Lovely and pleasant wast thou! I will now,
“O'er thy dear form, in silent anguish bow,
“And oft, at dewy hour, beneath this tree,
“With none profane to hear, with none to see,
“My Brother! Oh! my Brother! weep for thee!”

David, departing from the solemn scene,
Calls on his God, and waits with soul serene.
“Oh! point my path!” he said. “Thy guidance shew,
“Nor let me move, till thou shalt bid me go!”
A voice, inaudible but to the mind,
Answer'd, “At Hebron, thou thy God shalt find!”
To Hebron David journies. As he came,
The Men of Judah meet, with loud acclaim,
Bending, with uproar wild, the willing knee,
“Our Prince!” they cried. “David our Prince shall be!”
Saul's crown, rejoicing, on his head they place!
His former foes the foremost ask for grace,
And swell the loud “All Hail!” Upon that day,
One shout was heard, “Our King let all obey!
“David, the crown shall wear! the sceptre sway!”

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BOOK XXIV.

Rechab and Baanah. Character of Ahithophel. David crowned. David provides for Mephibosheth, Jonathan's Son. Joab slays Abner. David dances before the Ark.

Midnight. A Wood.

“Rechab!” Baanah cried, “this is the hour.
“Kindred in blood, but most in thirst of power,
“I call thee forth (from riot and loud mirth)
“On daring deeds to commune—of prime worth
“To souls like ours.” Rechab thus answer made.
“Brother, and friend, speak out! This forest shade,

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“And hour, thus dark, prompt converse, unaware,
“Which day-light must not hear, nor spirits fair.”
Baanah whispers, “Saul thou know'st is slain—
“His Son, Ish-bosheth, Israel calls to reign,
“While David sits secure on Judah's throne.
“Were it not well that one should rule alone!
“Mark me, for us?” Rechab, aloud replies,
“Why this mysterious whispering and disguise?
“Speak out! Dost murder mean!” Baanah spake,
“That is the thing! Nay, do not, Brother, shake,
“With all thy blustering. So unused a sight,
“In this dim hour might even me affright.
“What sound was that? A flitting bird! This place,
“So chilly, damp, and dark, where face to face,
“Needs utterance, to distinguish friend from foe,
“I like it not! Tho' fear we cannot know,
“From this profound of leaf, scarce knowing why,
“We will speed on—into the open sky.”

Baanah thus pursued. “From right to swerve,
“For small things, I abhor, but when to serve,
“Greatly, our fortunes, we just step aside,
“And stain one dagger, tho' some men might chide,
“Whose breasts th' aspiring spirit never sway'd,
“Yet is the deed, to us, of glory made.

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“Some in aggressive wars their thousands slay,
“That is a crime! Ours is a little fray,
“A sip of that luxurious tide which cheers
“Warriors, august, whose drink is human tears.
“Tho', with the steel, one, and but one must bleed,
“The great occasion sanctifies the deed.
“Start not! but listen. David, man of might,
“Whose infant arm put Israel's foes to flight,
“He must succeed. If we, his rival send
“To join his Father (him who had no friend!)
“Will not our fortunes flourish, and our state
“Be next to David, Greatest of the Great?”
Rechab replied. “Agreed! One little wrong,
“Reluctant, we must do, to make us strong,
“The envy of the proudest, but that done
“(Not without sacrifice) the prize thus won,
“To raise us to the pinnacle supreme
“Of subject happiness!—no other dream,
“Tho' it should promise e'en a Monarch's sway,
“Shall tempt us from the honest path to stray,
“Now am I ready, with this faithful blade,
“To follow or to lead in sun or shade.”

Baanah thus, “As we are captains known
“Over Ish-bosheth's host, we may his throne

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“Approach, due privilege. Our roaming eye,
“The time, the manner, best, will soon espy!
“(Firm to achieve thy part, and hinderance scorn,)
“Man! Be thou still as sleeping huntsman's horn.
“Now for our Master's service. As needs be,
“We must exceed in all low courtesy.”

The murderous deed is done! Ish-bosheth slain.
Bearing his head, they hurry o'er the plain.

As David sat, obedient guards around,
Two Strangers enter'd. Bending to the ground,
Baanah spake. “Monarch! thy friends behold.
“Tidings of joy are ours! No lust of gold;
“No thirst of honours; but true love to thee,
“Hath urged us to a deed, beyond degree,
“Such as shall win thy praise. No boasters vain—
“Ish-bosheth sleeps in death! We him have slain!
“Behold his head, wrapt in this napkin fair!
“Behold his rayless eyes, his clotted hair!
“We saw him sleeping in the noon-tide ray,
“And (thee to please) whom all shall now obey.
“Slew him, and joyful bore this spoil away!”

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David exclaim'd. “What demons in disguise,
“Bearing the shape of human, meet my eyes?
“Ish-bosheth slain—in th' pleasant hour of rest!
“In his own house! By men who bore the vest,
“Th' exterior of the friend! Oh! thought of dread!
“Who watched his looks! who at his table fed!
“And oft with fawning tongue, and bended knee,
“Before him pour'd the abject flattery!
“My thoughts, in tumult thrown, half take their flight!
“Is it a dream? a vision of the night?
“Could human heart descend to deed so vile?
“And, at the thought, a human visage smile?
“Oh! that two men should live who could believe—
“David, from act so foul, might joy receive!
“When one of late approach'd who Saul had slain,
“And bore his crown, his bracelets, baubles vain!
“Hoping to win my favour, with a blow
“I sent him to the dust, where you shall go!

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“Fall on them!” At the voice, with willing speed,
Young men advance. The murderers pity plead!
All hearts, alike, their tears, their prayers disdain,
And they who slew the just, themselves are slain!
Now over Hebron's pool, 'tween earth and sky,
Of both rejected, with th' indignant eye,
They wake the scorn of each who passes by.

Ahithophel (versed in each subtile maze)
On Israel's throne, once fix'd his lofty gaze,
Waiting the tide of circumstance, to sound
Rebellion's trump, and to the sceptre bound.
What wit he had was not of holy kind,
Whilst unripe plans still brooded in his mind.
The path prescribed of faith, he never trod!
Nor knew he Abraham's trust, nor Abraham's God.
His vastest thoughts to this low world he gave,
And spurn'd the view that stretch'd beyond the grave.
In cheerful mirth he never bore a part;
Spleen rack'd his mind and envy gnaw'd his heart.
His cheek ne'er glow'd to see the spring appear;
His presence never gladden'd heart sincere,
His absence never woke affection's tear.

435

Morose, and prone his species to revile,
No joy he felt at childhood's happy smile,
But, thoughtful, in th' unbending hour, withdrew
Within himself, and darkness round him threw.
Yet, sometimes, by vain fancies borne along,
Loudly would he descant on right and wrong,
Of duties, clear, which to all times belong.
Would error vindicate, from truth dissent,
And either prove by lucid argument.
His tongue was stored with dogmas intricate,
Suited to every class and every state,
Which to the wondering crowd he thunder'd out
With confidence that scorn'd ignoble doubt;
Whilst (in the daring progress of a mind
Which Heaven to the delusive lie resign'd!)
That there was not a God, he plain inferr'd,
For had there been, he must so oft have err'd,
And shew'd, in clearest form, how he would guide
The wheels of nature, clogg'd on every side,
If he were call'd in wisdom to decide!
But this was choice debate, and but display'd
To those whose smiles admitted all he said:
Others, who thought, and could their thoughts dispense,
He shrewdly shunn'd as things that wanted sense.

436

Of all th' obscure, whom Saul to greatness raised,
He bent the lowest, and the loudest praised.
Such gifts the Monarch prized, nor saw behind
The heart to falsehood sworn, the traiterous mind.
Anger he cherish'd, (a perpetual fire!)
Yet chiefly one sustained his weight of ire,
Even he, with gifted hand, who swept the lyre.
O'er frustrate schemes, by day, by night, he sighs,
And how to work his bane unceasing tries.
Each act of valour, feat of glory named,
The more his hate confirm'd, his rage enflamed.
He whispers lies, slow in his Monarch's ear,
And plots his downfal, whom he scorns to fear.

Ish-bosheth now is slain. With pale dismay,
He marks, to David, Israel, homage pay,
Even to the man who doth his hate possess,
The bar that kept his heart from happiness!
“Not yet,” he cries, “the hour. To our new King
“I must, tho' hard, the round of flattery ring:
“Seek him, till I my fortunes may retrieve,
“And with fair lies the Shepherd-Prince deceive!
“E'en talk of faith which in my heart I spurn,
“And seem (Oh! torment!) with his zeal to burn!”

437

To Abner fast he speeds, and thus began.
“Let us the thousands follow, and this man,
“Raised by the stars to sit on Israel's throne,
“Honour, and crown; and him our sovereign own.”
Abner replied. “Thy wisdom, and my power,
“(Thyself an oracle, and I a tower)
“David will hail, and tho' we subjects be.
“Ours will be glory next to royalty.”

The loud shout echoes, lengthen'd and more hign,
What sound is that which thus disturbs the sky?
The door thrown wide, Abner draws near, the brave,
(Ahithophel beside him, sage and grave)
And whilst the general plaudit shakes the air,
They Israel's Crown and Sceptre duteous bear.
Abner began. “Thou art our rightful King!
“To thee, Oh! David, Israel's crown we bring.
“Thou art our valiant Prince, our leader Thou,
“And to thy mandate every knee shall bow!”

The Monarch answer'd. “These which you bestow,
“Bring, as their shadow, sorrow, care, and woe.
“If I would taste of happiness alone,
“Far should I keep from sceptres and a throne;

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“In you Heaven's voice I hear, nor will I shun
“To do, for Israel's good, what may be done.”
Now 'mid the concourse vast, that countless seem,
David is crown'd, o'er Israel, King supreme.

Ahithophel (his hand upon his breast)
To David thus his boundless joy exprest.
“True was I found to Saul, and to his Son,
“Their day is past! alas! their race is run!
“Thou hast succeeded to my masters' crown,
“To their command, and more than their renown.
“As I to them was faithful, such, to thee,
“While life doth last, Ahithophel shall be.
“Nor deem it duty only, other sense
“Confirms my love, and prompts my reverence;
“Thy Holy Songs thro' all the land are spread;
“Oft have they cheer'd me, drooping, on my bed.
“With joy shall I frequent the House of Prayer,
“And with thee chant the song adoring there.”

David replied (pleasure within his eye)
“Is there a pure delight below the sky,
“It is to find a friend whose steps are bound,
“(All pilgrims here!) to Heaven's celestial ground.

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“Receive my praise! My happiness will be,
“To talk of God, to seek his house with thee;
“To lean upon thy wisdom, known afar,
“To lift our thoughts, our hearts, above yon star,
“Which, in the speech of reason, tells to man,
“That there are worlds beyond his narrow scan!
“(Amid this earth, to perfect joy unknown)
“That he is wise who lives for Heaven alone.”

To Abner, valiant chief, the Monarch spake.
“Thoughts of the dead, within my breast awake.
“I think on Jonathan, a friend to me,
“Not to be shaken by—adversity!
“Of injuries and wrongs, received of yore,
“Thrown to the winds, I think of them no more;
“But who hath kindness shewn, shall now receive
“All that the heart of gratitude can give.
“Say! doth there breathe, that I may succour send,
“Or wife, or child, of Jonathan, my friend?”

Abner thus answer made. “I mourn to say,
“No wife doth live. I saw her in dismay,
“Tearing her hair, her hands to Heaven outspread,
“When tidings came, that he, her Lord, was dead!

440

“Brief was her anguish. Ere the sun went down,
“(That rose on prosperous fortune and a crown!)
“Wildly she look'd around and faintly sigh'd
“Till now her head she prest, and droop'd and died!
“They had a Son, whom (when the tidings fled
“That Saul was slain, that Jonathan was dead)
“His faithful Nurse, bore, 'mid distracting fears,
“And, as she fled, the child, of tender years,
“Fell, and he now is lame.” David replied.
“Henceforth to succour him shall be my pride.
“Oh! seek him out! Inquiries oft were mine,
“But, the disclosure and the honour thine.”

Now, with his anxious Nurse, the Youth draws near,
Timid his look, and on his cheek—a tear.
Thus David spake. “Approach! Thy Sire I knew;
“His voice was music, as his heart was true.
“Thou, for his sake, art precious in my eyes.
“Throw off that humble garb, that mean disguise!
“Thou, at my board, shalt sit, and I will be,
“For the dead friend, a father true to thee!”
Whilst the fond Nurse the tear of pleasure shed,
Young Mephibosheth humbly bow'd his head,
And o'er his heart, his hand, in silence, spread!

441

Joab, from distant embassy, draws near.
T' Ahithophel he speeds. “I see a spear,”
(Thus he began) “and helm, that Abner's seem,
“But that were fancy, as the morning dream.
“He, with Saul's house is leagued, and till this hour,
“Hath pledg'd himself to prop its tottering power.”
Ahithophel replied. “It is the same.
“Abner walks there, the warrior-son of fame,
“Who slew thy Brother, in th' unequal fray!
“And I, (with him beside) have placed this day
“The crown on David's head, whom all obey.”
Joab his weapon in due order placed,
And with majestic stride toward Abner paced.
Abner, at hand, beheld his foe advance!
Each, with the eye of fury, lifts his lance.
When Joab thus. “One wish hath long been mine,
“To meet thee, and ere yonder sun decline,
“Oh! murderer of a valiant Brother dear!
“Thy blood or mine shall dim the glistening spear!
“Stand forth for war!” Abner indignant cried.
“I scorn thy prowess, and thy threat deride!
“Thy Brother paid the forfeit with his life,
“And now I dare thee to the mortal strife!”
Each heard, and at the instant hurl'd his lance.
Both, harmless, stand. The warriors now advance,

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Sword against sword, and furious strife is there!
The crashing helm sends discord thro' the air!
The trembling ground bespeaks the sturdy tread
As lion, lion meets! In effort dread
Joab his might put forth, and Abner feels
Death at his heart! Instant to earth he reels,
Whilst o'er his eye-ball deepest darkness steals!
Joab look'd down upon his breathless foe.
A pang he felt!—the gory weapon, slow,
Placed in its scabbard, and, with stifled sigh,
Saw, in his last abode, great Abner lie!

His warlike chiefs and mighty men around,
David address'd. “Jehovah's praise resound!
“Prosperity is ours. A Hand unseen
“Hath led us on to pastures fair and green.
“We are the Fold of God! Each heart shall now,
“With dedication fresh, repeat its vow,
“And in wide concert raise the general voice—
“‘We are thy sheep, the people of thy choice!’
“But where the Ark of God? To Judah's land,
“On the next morn, in one adoring band,

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“We will repair:—that treasure bear away,
“And to our Maker consecrate the day.”

The morn is come. All turn to Gibeah's shore,
A mighty host, while David walks before.
Now hastening near, Abinadab comes forth
To greet his King, low bending to the earth.
The Monarch spake. “Oh! Sage, with locks of grey,
“I come to bear the Ark of God away!”
With look of grief, Abinadab replied.
“Would that ere this, thy servant old had died!
“The Ark hath been my friend, thro' many a year
“Loved, honour'd. Oh! forgive my parting tear
“Since my low dwelling hath contain'd the prize,
“All blessings I have seen around me rise.
“The hope was mine till death should lay me low,
“To guard this Ark, my greatest joy below;
“But thou art sent of God! With awe profound
“I yield it up, with every murmur drown'd
“And may'st thou blessings find, as I have found!”

David the Ark receives. To zeal resign'd,
Above the common rule, the sober mind,
Stripp'd of his royal robe, amid the crowd,
He leaps, he dances, chanting praises loud;

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And bearing on to Salem's tower of might,
The Ark, to Israel dear, his chief delight.
What stately Form is that, which, from on high,
Looks down and scoffs on David passing by?
Michal! who cries. “Oh! Monarch, canst thou be
“Great Saul's successor?—stripp'd of royalty,
“Thus sporting, with delicious transport sweet,
“Amid the base and shameless in the street?”
David replied. “Not for the peoples' sake,
“To rouse their plaudit and their shouts awake,
“In quest of human praise, do I, this day,
“Stripp'd of the purple vest, my zeal display:
“Before the Lord I dance!—to honour Him,
“Who stoops to hear the song of cherubim!
“And if (thus humbled) vile to thee it seem,
“To act more vile, shall be my joy supreme.
“On me hath God bestow'd thy Father's crown,
“And, pleasing Him, I heed not mortal frown.”

The Ark now borne to Salem's royal tower,
David proclaims the feast, the solemn hour.
The tribes assemble. Hosts, on hosts attend,
Whilst shouts, majestic, Heaven's wide concave rend,
And what th' impressive sight, harmonious, free,
When a whole nation bow'd to Heaven the knee!

“And Rechab and Baanah, (captains of bands) came about the neat of the day to the house of Ish-bosheth (Saul's Son) who lay on a bed at noon, and they smote him under the fifth rib, and beheaded him, and took his head, and gat them away through the plain all night, and they brought the head of Ish-bosheth unto David, at Hebron, and said, “Behold the head of Ish-bosheth thine enemy.” II Samuel, chap. IV. ver. 5—8.

“And Joab smote Abner under the fifth rib, that he died, for the blood of Asahel, his Brother.” II Samuel, chap. III. ver. 27.

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BOOK XXV.

David and Bathsheba.

The Ark secured, slow from the festal space
(Where something of intemperance found a place)
David retires, his varied ways to trace;
His adverse years, and now his glorious state,
Till vanity arose, and thoughts elate:
At length he cried, scorning distrust and fear,
“My soul is turn'd to good, my heart sincere!
“God hath approved my ways. Estranged from guile,
“Such worth as mine deserves my Maker's smile.
“And I, secure, will now my hours beguile.”

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Oh! woeful state, when every fear is fled,
And Men, unarm'd, their path of peril tread!
David, alas, his warfare just begun,
Beholds the prize afar, and deems it won!
Oh! woeful hour, to depths despairing thrown,
When human might is left to war alone!
David (who felt the trust, to man denied,
For which the Prophets toil'd, the Patriarchs sigh'd,
And deem'd the force of his determined will,
Equal, alike, to shun or to fulfil)
Prosperous and confident, disdains to keep
The watch of fear, but, on the beetling steep,
Chooses, secure in strength, to lie and sleep,
Till, from the giddy height, he down is hurl'd,
The sad memento to a future world!

Oh! can that man who saw no sun arise,
Nor with it paid his morning sacrifice;
So late, who bade the altar's smoke ascend,
And Heaven adored, while Israel's tribes attend?
Can he whose prayers, as constant as the eve,
Rose, incense sweet—can he his Maker leave,
His watch remit, darkness for light exchange,
And thro' the realms of vileness, lawless range?

447

Can, who so oft the House of Prayer hath trod,
Who led devotion's round, and walk'd with God,
Whose many a righteous song, and holy strain,
Came from the heart, and touch'd the heart again,
And still shall cheer and charm while earth remain!
Can he descend from his celestial seat
To feed upon the husks which swine do eat?
Pride sent an angel host to realms of pain,
And confidence hath here her thousands slain!
Even David falls! Blot the disastrous deed
From memory's page, that none may mourning read!
Oh! sight of dread! Oh! depths of misery!
A Globe of Fire floats on the midnight sea,
On which appears—“Murder!” “Adultery!”
It sinks, and in the hour of silence deep,
Leaves the rack'd mind, unseen, to pause and weep!

Ahithophel, with transport in his eyes,
To Joab hastes. Wagging his head, he cries,
“Ah! Ah! This King whom I so lately made,
“With Abner (sent by thee to death's dark shade)
“What is he come to now! His vain parade,
“His praise of God, his Heaven-directed eyes,
“His zeal at morn and evening sacrifice,

448

“All like the bubble burst! Full well I knew,
“His heart was hollow, and his words untrue.
“Arch-hypocrite! I never made pretence
“To sanctity that laughs at sober sense;
“I knew it all a cheat, a lie profound,
“And spake and acted with the crowd around.
“But this ethereal spirit, he could raise
“One hour the halleluia shout of praise;
“The next, Oh! villainy, beyond degree!
“Could fly to murder and adultery!
“If seem thee meet, we now will pull him down,
“And to some nobler, wiser, give the crown.
“What dost thou think of me? Thou, by my side,
“Shalt half my power, and half my wealth divide.”

Joab replied. “Our King bath given this day
“Poor proof of piety, and fallen away
“Into enormous crimes, which I, even I,
“Rather than perpetrate would dare to die!
“But we must pity. Perhaps he may repent,
“But whether contrite tears, or not, be sent,
“Tho' I may blame (thus taught of loyalty)
“He is my Prince, and faithful I will be!”
This saying he indignant turns away,
And leaves Ahithophel, to rage, the prey.

449

Nathan draws near! To David thus he spake.
“Oh! King, if wrongs offend, to justice wake!
“There were two men who in one city dwelt;
“To one, a thousand fields their treasures dealt:
“Great store was his. The distant hill display'd
“His flocks, his herds, while he, in pomp array'd
“Of high magnificence, too proud to bend,
“Saw crowds around his slightest glance attend.
“Near where he dwelt, a humble man abode,
“Who toil'd along life's steep and cheerless road.
“No flocks were his, no hills his treasure bore—
“A Little Lamb composed his only store.
“He found it in the bleak and boisterous hour,
“Up on the mountain top, a shrub its bower,
“Whilst, near, the Dam lay lifeless, stiff and cold,
“(A wanderer from some far and unknown fold.)
“Inspired with pity for the innocent,
“That friend had none, he bore it to his tent,
“Where, cherish'd with delight, by the same fire
“It sat, with children, round their common Sire.
“Of his own meat, the Father cheerful gave,
“And from his hand, it drank the crystal wave.
“It loved to warm his feet, around to play,
“And, as a daughter, in his bosom lay.

450

“To the Rich Man, it chanced, a Brother came,
“(Son of prosperity, and known to fame!)
“The Host exclaim'd, ‘Prepare the feast to day!
“My neighbour's lamb, regardless, bear away.’
“He took not from his own abundant store—
“He, from the poor man's arms his treasure tore!”

“Death!” David cried. “With ponderous fetters bound,
“His neck shall bend, his blood shall stain the ground!”

When Nathan thus. “Hath rage thy mind opprest?
“Thou art the Man! On thee the charge doth rest!
“Thus saith the Lord. ‘I, from thy low estate,
“Least of thy Father's house, I made thee great;
“Freed thee from Saul, made smooth each rugged way,
“And gave thy hand the rod of power to sway.
“Why hast thou thus requited with disdain,
“Him, at whose thought alone all Monarchs reign!
“Thou hast despised my law, while crime on crime
“Hath mark'd the swift-revolving course of time.
“Adultery hath not scared thee. Filling, thence,
“Thy measure of disastrous influence,
“Thou hast run headlong in thy mad career,
“And murder'd one, thy friend, with Ammon's spear!

451

“Thou hast confirm'd, the scoffer's idle dream,
“And taught Heaven's foes their Maker to blaspheme!
“Sin must be link'd with penalty and shame!
“Who sows must reap, or good, or ill, the same!
“Now therefore—sorrow and perplexing care,
“Thy breast shall fill, thy aching head shall bear!
“Whilst (still to brand iniquity, like thine)
“Upon thy heart my face shall cease to shine!
“Hear, and remember, 'mid each sore distress,
“That thou hast fill'd thy cup with bitterness!
“Thy children shall arise, to fury wrought,
“And practice deeds which thou thyself hast taught.
“The sword, unsheath'd by thee, I now will take,
“To punish, but, in mercy, not forsake.”

The King thus answer'd. “From my towering height
“Low have I fallen to hopelessness and night!
“Who shall disperse the cloud of deepest shade,
“Or wash away the stain that sin hath made!”
Nathan replied. “The Lord hath mark'd thy tears:
“Thy grief he knows. Thy faltering voice he hears.
“Thou shalt not die! Now, to thy latest day,
“Watch ever! Seek for peace! For pardon pray!
“And cast thy trust on human strength away.”

452

Opprest with woe, David his mantle rent,
And thus, to Israel's Lords, the summons sent,
“Draw near! His friends, his foes, would David see,
“That he may tell to all his misery,
“And own the crimes (with self-accusing voice)
‘At which the Righteous weep, the Vile rejoice.”

The morn is come. Th' attentive concourse great,
With anxious hearts around their King await,
When David thus declared his wretched state.
“The still, the midnight hours, my anguish know!
“My restless pillow tells my weight of woe!
“And here, before you all, with Heaven in view,
“My garb I rend, my head with ashes strew!
“The crushing load of grief this breast sustains!
“You oft have met to chant your Monarch's strains;
‘Loud harps have join'd the chorus grand to raise,
“Whilst all was unison, and all was praise!
“Did I not then, sincere, the offering bring,
“And pour the song to Heaven's Eternal King?
“Bear witness, Oh! my heart, for thou canst tell,
“What joys were thine, to hear the lofty swell,
“Sent from unnumber'd voices, when the theme
“Ascribed all power and might, to God supreme

453

“Bear witness, Oh! my heart, if e'er the strain
“Told not thy thoughts, or dealt in language vain!
“Low have I fall'n! The foes of Heaven and man,
“Shout joyous, whilst my prostrate state they scan,
“Asking, with triumph in their heart and eye,
“‘Where is the Champion now of Piety!’
“Oh! woe. Oh! wretchedness of deepest kind!
“Horror, and darkness hang upon my mind!
“To Heaven, I dare not look, with such a stain!
“Earth ministers no solace to my pain!
“And must I fly to Hell? Oh! refuge vain!
“Pity your Monarch! Look on his despair,
“And whilst his grief you see, his sins beware!”

The Monarch upward look'd, while none replied,
When with the hand hard clasp'd, once more he cried.

“Great Lord of all! my sin, my wickedness,
“'Gainst thee have been, thee only! I confess,
“And mourn my crimes in th' depth of bitterness.
“Oh! let thy loving-kindness still prevail,
“And not, for me, the stream of mercy fail!
“Thou dost not empty sacrifice desire,
“Else should ten thousand bulls and rams expire;

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“The poor, the bound, the contrite, thou dost prize.
“Nor wilt thou, Lord! the broken heart despise!
“Turn yet again! In pity look once more!
“The joy of thy salvation still restore!
“Make clean my heart, polluted in thy sight,
“And, Oh! renew, within, the spirit right!
“Purge me with hyssop! Thou, Oh, God! dost own
Truth in the inward parts, and truth alone;
“This would I offer! Guide me by thy hand!
“Free from blood-guiltiness, Oh! let me stand!
“Cast me not off! Almighty friend! look down!
“A burden'd conscience sooth! nor longer frown!
“With thy free Spirit, from my abject state,
“Oh! raise me up! On thee, I hope! I wait!
“Then will I softly tread till life shall end!
“Then shall the voice of gratitude ascend!
“Then shall transgressors learn, from me, thy ways!
“And be my Harp devoted to thy praise!
“So, to the latest age shall sinners know,
“From my example (while o'erwhelm'd with woe)
“That when to Thee they turn, their only trust!
“Thou wilt not spurn the pleading child of dust!”

455

BOOK XXVI.

Ahithophel's Soliloquy. Instigates Absalom to rebellion. David escapes into the Wilderness. Shimei curses David. Hushai resists the advice of Ahithophel, who hangs himself. Defeat and death of Absalom.

The year rolls round, whilst each succeeding day,
To David bears some new and sore dismay.
No sun declines but he perceives within,
'Mid deep remorse, the lengthen'd fruit of sin.
The friend, to foe, with rage remorseless, turns!
The son, debased, with fire unholy burns!
Th' affection nature taught too soon decays,
The Brother lifts his hand, the Brother slays!

456

What form is that, who, by the river's side,
Now thoughtful stands, now walks, with stately stride?
Now lifts his hand, and stamps upon the ground,
And pauses now, in deeper musings drown'd?—
Ahithophel! The proud presumptuous man,
After a statue stillness, thus began.

“What is this world? and what is yonder sky?
“And (darker depth of myst'ry!) what am I?
“I hear of happiness, and seem to see
“The glimpse of joy in many, if it be,
“Cheated am I! The sun which men behold,
“The trees, the flowers around, in robe of gold,
“I love them not! Pleasure I never find
“In murmuring stream or gently-breathing wind,
“Or ocean! Other eye, and other ear,
“May see, or fancy, hear, or seem to hear,
“Sweet melodies, with beauty's winning dress,
“But all to me is harsh and nakedness!
“Time was, alas! when all the future shone!
“Time was, when I had hopes, but they are gone!
“Reflection, spare me! With thy torturing fang,
“Turn off! for wretchedness doth on me hang!

457

“Ambition me hath duped. My thoughts have pored
“On mightiest grandeur. I to Crowns have soared!
“Buoy'd up, by the inspiring vision clear,
“That gave me all to hope, and nought to fear!
“But I am now (my evening closing fast)
“Thrown shelterless, to th' loud and wintry blast!
“A Judge o'er human ways—can there such be?
“Then why was I, so steep'd in misery!
“Thoughts, with molesting vehemence, will rise,
“Prospects, to which I dare not close my eyes!
“Oh! I have lost the spring-tide of my year,
“The morning of my life, and night is near!
“But where are pleasant thoughts, and joys serene?
“Where are the rays to gild my parting scene?
“I have exchanged, for vanities and toys,
“Time's choicest gifts, and life's divinest joys!
“I have a cheerless home! No offspring there!
“No second self to sooth, or burden share!
“The hopes which some, in tranquil state, sustain,
“When their last foe prepares to break their chain;
“The sun-shine, which their peaceful spirits feel,
“When earth recedes, and shadows round them steal,
“Oh! tempest of despair, I know them not!
“Horror, and horrid prospects are my lot!

458

“To feel the pang of disappointment rude;
“To see each good I sought my grasp elude;
“To perish, without hope! nor leave behind
“One friend to weep, or whisper praises kind!
“The cup hath still its dregs. Tho' tottering, old,
“I will go forth, and rouse some spirit bold
“To deeds of death and vengeance, and arise
“To heights, that shall my name immortalize!
“Or—If I fail, plunge headlong in the deep,
“And brave the phantom of Eternal Sleep!”

Ahithophel, with malice in his eyes,
To Absalom, the Son of Fury, flies.
Thus he began. “Thy Father's locks are grey.
“To thee, we look, whom all would fain obey!
“With thrones at stake, who would his time engage
“Toying with straws, nor warfare valiant wage?
“Who hath a heart like thee? the first to lead
“Where frowning danger guards the hero's meed!
“Trust not to pillars to record thy name!
“Build for thyself the conqueror's deathless fame!

459

“Thou art our hope, born for the high career,
“Only below the stars—naught higher here!
“Upraise thy standard! Mount thy sun-like car!
“And fearless sound the thundering blast of war!”

Thus Absalom. “How can I freeze the tear?
“How 'gainst an aged Father lift the spear?”

“A Father!” Thus Ahithophel replied.
“A Father! Shall I smile, or shall I chide?
“And are not Fathers Men, and Men the same?
“Nature excites no individual flame,
“But burns for all alike. Those men are best,
“Who wisest are!—whose spirits bold are drest
“In no false shackles: guidance who disown,
“And on their own firm reason rest alone.
“This dotage blind to kin hath been the bane
“Of every age, but I have burst the chain.
“My Sire, like thine, deserved and met my hate;
“He cursed me, dying, whilst I smiled sedate!

460

“This was proud triumph over prejudice!
“Receive, with my example, my advice,
“And spurn the bondage, all the servile guides
“Which Nature for her apes and fools provides.
“Trust me, for thou art young and I am sage,
“Th' instruction take of Wisdom as of Age,
“My power of thought is deeper far than thine!
“On me the beams of truth unsullied shine!
“Some talk of future worlds, all fancies vain!
“Which sapient spirits hear but to disdain.
“This life is all of man! and wise is he
“Who most possesses where the right is free!”

Young Absalom thus spake. “Fresh fears arise.
“What blood must flow before I gain the prize!”
“And what is blood?” Ahithophel replied:
“A fluid, red! a humour! a warm tide
“Diverted from its course!—in some new way,
“To Nature, sent its homage still to pay.
“Fear not a drought of blood! Should whirlwinds sweep
“Kingdoms, like atoms, to eternal sleep,
“New hosts, by an abiding law, will rise.
“We shall not want fresh subjects to despise!

461

“What! shall the rabble-rout of human-kind,
“Pity for them, a sottish mass, and blind!
“Frustrate the aims of intellect! of mind!
“The wise, like us, must rule, while slaves obey,
“And we will mountains scorn that bar our way!
“Pluck up thy soul, and ere an hour be past,
“Send thro' the land rebellion's stoutest blast!”

The blast is heard! Thousands the voice attend!
And round th' aspiring Prince devoted bend.
Wide spreading, from the farthest hill to hill,
The cries of “Absalom!” the concave fill!

“What shout is that?” said David, as he rose,
Scared with the feverish dream of storms and woes.
One, hastening, cried. “Oh! King, I fear to name
“Thy once-loved Absalom's disgrace and shame!
“Rebellion's standard he hath dared to raise,
“And the wide host, to him, obedience pays!”

Smiting his breast, David to earth look'd down,
And veil'd the face that wore a Father's frown.
Ittai advances eager and thus spake.
“Thy valiant sword, thy buckler instant take!

462

“Go forth, and in thy majesty and might,
“Act but thyself, and put thy foes to flight!”
“One friend!” the Monarch cried. “Oh! weep with me!
“I have a Son, long loved, and tenderly,
“He seeks my life!” Another cried aloud,
“Hear you that shout? Mark you, yon pennons proud?
“E'en Absalom draws near!” Whilst all retire;
Lo! Joab hastens, with the eye of fire.
“Monarch!” he said. “From Salem speed along!
“Thy evil Son is near! Thy foes are strong!
“Trust to this arm! Thou must retire, and gain
“Replenish'd strength, to break the rebel's chain.”

From Salem's tower, with hurrying step, while night
Her dreary robe put on, David, his flight,
Unknowing where, began; (some few around
Whose hearts adversity but closer bound)
And on they pace in silence, whilst ascend
Prayers, heard alone by Him, the mourner's friend!
The thought of home deserted, and, the road,
Weary, that led to no secure abode,
Weigh'd down each heart. And now, before, is seen
Cedron! and all beyond a waste of green,
A wilderness, wide-stretching. At the view
Each spirit sunk. David, awhile, withdrew,

463

And, kneeling, to his Maker, thus began.
“Oh! hear thy servant! I, a sinful man!
“Look up to Thee in this my depth of woe!
“No other friend have I! Where'er I go,
“Be with me! Thou canst make the desert shine,
“And bless with better gifts than corn and wine!

A Stranger near him stands, who, solemn cried.
“Trust thou in God! The wilderness is wide,
“Yet fair and fragrant are the scenes that lie
“Before thee—veil'd from thy material eye!
“Advance! and Cedron cross, in strength divine;
“This I shall pass, with deeper cares than thine!
“Fear not! Tho' great thy foes, around thy head,
“Angels, ordain'd, their unseen banners spread!
“Confide in Heaven, nor man, nor demon dread!”
David prepared to cry, “Oh! tell thy name!”
He look'd! He saw alone the volleying flame
Up-mounting! Lo! It vanish'd from his sight!
And all again was stillness! all was night!”

Once more the King his faithful followers seeks,
(Who stand perplex'd and sad, whilst down their cheeks,
Tear follows tear.) He spake. “Shall we confide
“Alone, in Heaven, while flows th' unruffled tide,

464

“And when the clouds augment, the tempests blow,
“Shrink back to doubt, and dread our faintest foe?
“Cast off your fears! This brook, to cross, we haste,
“And urge our steps toward Esdraelon's wide waste.
“I will the first advance, for God can bless,
“And still support us, 'mid this wilderness.”
He said, and hastening on with fearless tread,
Pass'd, undismay'd, o'er Cedron's pebbly bed.
The band, beholding, glad at heart the while,
Follow their King, and look to Heaven and smile.

The Mount of Olives, now, they slow ascend,
When, one, advancing, cried. “Oh! King, thy friend,
“Ahithophel, to Absalom is fled!
“He leads the rebel host, with threatnings dread!”
David, in silence, slowly bow'd his head.
Thus he began. “To Thee, all power belongs!
“Oh! God, thou know'st thy servant's many wrongs!
“He whom I fed, and most desired to bless,
“Whose vows I heard and thought them faithfulness,
“With whom I took sweet counsel—he is fled,
“And longs to see me number'd with the dead!
“Oh! aggravated anguish! To repair
“Oft, to the House of God, the House of Prayer,

465

“Was our delight, and tho' a load of care
“Prest on my mind, I found it lighten'd there.
“Th' Almighty knows the heart, and He alone!
“Ahithophel, a Friend, I strove to own.
“Features and new, to memory, now are shewn.
“Was there not something ever in his eye,
“A character of fearful mystery,
“Chill, subtile, fathomless, that in my mind
“Call'd up repugnant feelings, undefin'd,
“Till charity subdued the harsh offence,
“And turn'd the serpent into innocence?
“Ah! now I see that he hath ever been,
“False at the core! a pool of stagnant green,
“Fair to behold, with death, beneath, unseen!
“Oh, God! confound his counsels. May they be
“Snares to my foes, and foolishness to thee!”

“Whom do I view?” cried David, “Hushai there?
“Be thou thy Monarch's friend, his burden bear!
“That thou art famed for wisdom, long I knew;
“Thou now canst serve me, if thy heart be true.
“Haste to my Son. To Absalom thus say,
“‘Let me thy wants supply, thy word obey.’

466

“Thou may'st withstand Ahithophel, and make
“His counsels vain, his lordly influence.shake.
“Search out my Son's designs. Still faithful be,
“And send me tidings, as thou lovest me!”
Hushai, obedient, from the King withdrew,
Whilst David and his host their way pursue.

Morn opens fair, the wilds around are seen,
The sky is cloudless, all the air serene.
“Curse thee! Oh! Curse thee! Let thy head prepare,
“Oh! Man of Belial! Judgment full to bear!”
David look'd up. He Shimei saw! who cried,
Still louder, “Where is now thy vaunted pride?
“Oh! Man of blood! Of Heaven and Earth disdain'd!
“Saul, but for thee, o'er Israel, still, had reign'd;
“And now th' Almighty pours upon thy head
“Scorn from the living, curses from the dead!
“Lo! Absalom shall reign, whilst thou, his Sire,
“Oh! Man of Blood! shalt 'mid these wastes expire!”

Abishai thus. “This dog, as base, as low,
“Let me advance, and crush him with one blow!”
“Not so, my Son!” said David. “I can bear
“The voice upbraiding. Evil days that were,

467

“Alas! that are, yet, fresh in memory's page,
“(That saw my crimes, in youth, still wept in age)
“Rush o'er my brain, and make me bow my head
“At all that Shimei, sent of God! hath said.”

“Shout!” Absalom exclaimed, (as from the tower
That Salem bound, he saw, like evening's hour,
Fast passing into shade, his Father's host
Fade on his sight, his trust, his only boast
A feeble band, who, to the desert flee,
To drink secure their cup of misery.)
“Give me your counsel, Men! I wait to hear
“All that we now may hope, or stoop to fear.”
Ahithophel, advancing, spake aloud.
“Rejoice, Oh, Prince! This is a triumph proud!
“All confidence is ours! Give me this day
“Twelve thousand men, that I may track the way
“David hath fled, and (in his sore distress,
“Wild, wandering, heartless, 'mid the wilderness)
“I will o'ertake, and with a lightning brand,
“Sweep thy old Sire from Israel's groaning land!”

Cried Absalom. “For wisdom far renown'd,
“Thy words are weighty, as thy thoughts profound;

468

“Yet, in this case, where kingdoms are at stake,
“Pardon thy Prince, if still he counsel take.
“Let Hushai speak, the sage of cautious mind,
“In every maze, who wisdom's path can find.
“Oh, Man! thy thoughts declare.”

Hushai drew near,
Thus he began. “There is an hour for fear,
“When footsteps cross, but now the path is clear.
“Ahithophel, the wise, is foolish here!
“Move not from Salem with the partial band,
“Hoping to fright the lion from his stand!
“Thy Sire, a man of war, nor weak, nor mute,
“As the robb'd bear, is chafed and resolute.
“When all thy strength is gather'd, and each friend,
“Lifting his spear, shall on thy voice attend;
“Go forth thyself. The tree of ages bow,
“Nor bind the garland round a subject's brow!”
Loud shouts arise, from all the warriors round,
Whilst Absalom, approving, stamps the ground!

Ahithophel, with the disdainful tread,
Walks stately forth, declining not his head.
Beneath a branching tree, no witness nigh,
He breathes the curse, and rolls his ghastly eye.

469

Thus he exclaim'd. “Oh! base as infantine!
“Is this the best return for deeds like mine?
“Choose what thou wilt, Oh! stars, regard my vow!
“My will, my neck of brass, shall never bow.
“This arm hath rent the crown from David's brow,
“(Whom first I hated, from that evil day
“When, raised to power, he forced me to obey,
“And, unknown, stemm'd the torrent of my sway.
“But chiefly, in my heart, abhorrence rose,
“For that he served the God whom I oppose!)
“This mind hath hatch'd rebellion. I, alone,
“Free, to a Son, have given a Father's throne!
“Vile as the dust! can I exist, and know,
“That one o'er me is raised? my mortal foe!
“One, on whose sweep of thought, so weak, so vain,
“I look'd, and scorn'd the emmet and his grain!
“Shall Hushai, man, to folly only wise,
“Over my head, his Lord, to honours rise?
“By less than lightning, I, an oak, be cleft,
“His word be taken, and my counsel left?
“Oh! Earth, from childhood, whereour pleasures end!
“Thou'st been to me a murderer, not a friend!
“No speckled scenes were mine, some foul, some fair,
“But each hath blackness been, one flood of care!
“My life all wretchedness! my end—despair!

470

“Till this, safe seated on the mountain's brow,
“Must I descend, and tread the valley now!
“Now, in old age, endure disgrace and woe,
“Scorn'd by my friend, and taunted by my foe?
“Now, when my fortunes just appear'd complete!
“Now, when I saw the prize beneath my feet!
“Come sleep eternal! I will gaze on thee,
“And if I cannot rule, Oh! misery!
“Hated, and hating, I will cease to be!”
He said, and with coil'd rope, from branch, on high,
Down-plunged! and felt, too late, how dread to die!
Friendless, to pass into Eternity!
To rush, uncall'd, before his Maker's sight!
And dare the frown of vengeance infinite!

The first rude panic o'er, a mighty band,
Around their King, all faithful followers, stand;
Fearless of heart, and panting to display
Zeal for their injured Sovereign, old and grey!
To cheer their spirits, Joab now draws near,
(A sun his helmet, and a beam his spear)
The tidings fly—“Joab doth now appear!”
David he seeks, the future path to learn,
And feels, with patriot hopes, his bosom burn.

471

“I lead the fight!” the King exclaim'd aloud,
“My locks are white, my head with age is bow'd,
“Yet, on my brow, the laurel still is green,
“And on my heart the warrior's name is seen!”

One shout thro' all the martial host is heard,
“Spare!” “Spare! our King.” Joab his speech preferr'd.
“Oh! Prince, our hearts are thine. Our swords for thee
“Will strive for life, less than for mastery!
“But thou art sacred! We the brunt will bear.
“Thou, for thy people's good, thy head must spare.
“Retire, Oh! King, and let our feats sublime
“Sound on some Minstrel's Harp in after time.”
“Go!” David spake.

Now all, both true and brave;
Eager as death, and silent as the grave,
March to the fight. As Joab past along,
“Stop!” cried the King. “Mine is no common wrong!
“For, lo! a Son, a Parent's fond delight,
“Dear to his heart, and precious in his sight,
“Uplifts his hand, Oh! direful to relate,
“He seeks a Father's life, and burns with hate!

472

“Yet still a Son is he. Oh! may he live
“To hear from me, the accents, ‘I forgive!’
“May he survive to mourn this evil deed!
“To ask, of God, forgiveness, and succeed!
“Oh! spare the Youth! Repress thy high disdain!
“Some part of thine indignant spirit rein!
“A Father pleads, and shall he plead in vain?”
The warlike Chief, opprest with other care,
Hastes, with surrounding hosts, the war to dare.

The fearful trump is heard, with maddening rage,
The hostile ranks, like wintry storms, engage;
Fierce, furious, deep'ning still the awful roar,
Where thousands groaning, perish, drench'd in gore.
From the lost day, that darkest clouds invest,
(Swift as the eagle at the hour of rest)
The rebel Son, whilst falchions round him flame,
Flies eager, whelm'd in flood-like rage and shame.
A forest near, he plunges in the shade,
And thro' each thicket bursts that barrier made.
An oak (whose father saw the mighty flood)
Spreading its monstrous arms, before him stood.
He guides his foaming horse beneath the tree,
His head, all bare, in wild uncertainty.

473

Ah! woeful hour, as thus he furious sped,
Sudden, the thick boughs caught the traitor's head!
His courser rushes on, and, in despair,
Leaves the rebellious Son, suspended there!
Joab up-hastening, mercy scorns to hear,
And, thro' his heart impetuous drives the spear!

“Now Absalom, in his life-time, had taken and reared up for himself a Pillar, which is in the King's Dale, for he said, I have no Son to keep my name in remembrance; and he called the Pillar after his own name, and it is called unto this day, “Absalom's Place.” II Samuel, chap. XVIII. ver. 18.

474

BOOK XXVII.

David resigns the Crown to Solomon. Addresses his Captains and Princes. His contrition and humiliation. Makes preparation to build the Temple. His Death.

Day follows night, the night succeeds the day,
Moons wax and wane, with time, that will not stay,
And sorrow for a Son hath past away!
David now sees, how vain is all below,
A stream of doubtful joy, oft dash'd with woe.
He feels how poor is wealth, how mean is praise,
How vain, to solace, glory's proudest blaze.

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O'ershadow'd by the Spirit from on high,
He looks, half-longing, to his native sky.
“There is my home!” he said. “The things of earth,
“Fade whilst I think upon my heavenly birth.
“One Son is mine, whose name shall long endure,
“On whom Jehovah sheds his influence pure,
“E'en Solomon!” And now the favour'd Child,
Kneeling, receives his Father's accents mild.

“Oh! Son,” the Monarch spake, “the Lord adore!
“I go the way of all the earth! No more
“The harp, and timbrel cheer. Their power is o'er!
“Cold flows my blood, and dimly beams my eye,
“And all is dreary, but—Eternity!
“Hear me, my Son! A duteous Child art thou.
“Early, thy knee, to Heaven, thou learn'dst to bow,
“And God, who knows the heart, and tries the rein,
“Shall bless thee, keep thee, and thy house sustain.
“The Vision, from on high, on me doth light!
“Futurity hangs cloudless in my sight!
“From Jesse's root, a towering tree shall rise!
“God shall provide one Spotless Sacrifice,
“His Son!—by generation, who shall name?
“Continuous fire! Commingled flame with flame!

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“From the pure Fount of Light, Heaven's jasper throne,
“He shall descend our fallen race to own.
“The human form he bears that he might know
“How most to succour, best relieve our woe.
“A human form is his, that we might hear
“Man's language, nor the flaming seraph fear.
“In him, our righteousness, shall men confide!
“In him, (a tower! where wanderers lost may hide.)
“He shall unfold Heaven's portals, grand and fair,
“And bid the pure in spirit enter there!
“The time draws on, tho' seen by one alone;
“The day is certain, tho' the hour unknown.
“Oh! glorious dawn! Praise God who sees the end,
“From thee that blessing shall to man descend!
“The Hope of Nations, Earth's triumphant King,
“Mysterious ordinance! from thee shall spring!
“Whose reign shall spread, from isle—from sea to sea,
“Till the whole Earth to him shall bend the knee!”

Rejoicing, Solomon, the tidings heard.
Pressing his heart, but uttering not the word.
David again. “I see with eye sedate,
“The gulf, the confines of this mortal state!
“Why should the things of earth around me twine?
“Its cares, its pomp, its glory I resign!

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“No more the rod my trembling hand shall wield,
“And I, Oh! Son, to thee my power will yield.
“Hear me, once more. My heart (ere life retired)
“To build a House to God hath long desired.
“But, lo! that holy pile I might not raise,
“My hands were bloody and impure my ways!
“Mine was the wish, but thine shall be the praise.
“Oh, Son! An aged Father's mandate hear,
“Thou shalt a Temple to Jehovah rear!”

With tears, fast falling, Solomon arose;
Clasping his Father's knees. His joys, his woes,
He told alone, by silence, and the scene
Was sweet to look upon, as ocean, green,
Wheresun-beams play, with Earth and Heaven serene!
At length the Monarch spake. “Rise, duteous Son.
“Swift to their destin'd goal my moments run.
“Call forth my Captains. Let the men of might,
“My Lords, my Princes, stand before my sight.”

The heads of all the tribes now gather near.
Crowds press on crowds, their aged King to hear.
Slow he advances, (Solomon beside,)
And thus, with trembling voice, to Israel cried.

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“Weary of vanities, this spear, this shield,
“This crown, this sceptre, to my son I yield.
“Earth hath no more for me. Time's rapid stream,
“Backward beholding, seems an airy dream.
“Each human cup is drain'd, each spring is dry,
“Yet glorious prospects fill my distant sky.
“No more, around, shall David's voice be heard.
“For the last time attend your Monarch's word.

“The deep confusion covers me this day!
“My many sins, me scare, in long array!
“Heaven rais'd me to a crown, from station mean,
“And gave me wealth, but I have faithless been!
“No great example hath your Monarch shewn
“Rising, with power, such as became a throne;
“And here, with weeping eye, my crimes I own!
“Briefly forgetting all my hopes and fears,
“In one dark season of my earlier years,
“From ill to ill, I march'd, with giant stride,
“Till, with Uriah's blood, my spear was dyed!
“When most I felt secure the tempter came,
“And, from proud height, cast me to abject shame!
“Oh! I have wept aloud, when none was near,
“Save Him who doth not scorn the contrite tear;

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“And till I reach the bed where all must lie,
“Groans shall succeed the spirit's deepest sigh!
“Is there one glimpse of hope, one solace sweet?
“Can such a culprit dare his judge to meet?
“I see his day who cheer'd our Abraham old!
“I see his day, of Moses long foretold!
“That sight alone doth now my heart uphold!
“Pardon! I tremble at the fearful sound,
“Stupendous goodness! Pardon I have found!
“But tho' the future wears no awful frown,
“Sins, long forgiven, weigh my spirit down!
“Altho' my house is not as it should be,
“Joy still is mine. A brighter hour I see!
“With me hath God, whose purpose shall endure,
“E'en made the covenant, ordain'd and sure,
“And for His sake (my Lord! the Righteous One!
“The day-star from on high, when time hath run
“Her intervening course, to frustrate hell
“And rescue myriads who, in Adam, fell!)
“E'en for His sake alone, at this dread hour,
“When earth recedes, a blank, its pomp, its power!
“I venture to look up, to banish fear,
“And know that my redemption draweth near.
“One cloud remains, amid my evening sky,
“One thick, portentous cloud of deepest dye!

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“The foes of Heaven (secure in evil deem'd)
“Have thought on me and God the Lord blasphemed!
“My dark example they have look'd upon,
“And in the road to death securely gone!
“Witness, Oh! Righteous Father, if these fears
“Have not my pillow oft dedew'd with tears,
“And thro' a life, fast verging to its end,
“Been the one care that scorn'd the voice of friend!
“Are there, around, some whom I taught to stray,
“Gaze on my pangs, and shun my evil way!
“If such, amid this concourse vast, there be,
“Censure the man, but let the cause be free!”

He ceased, when down his cheek, unbidden, stole
The tear that told the anguish of his soul.
All eyes beheld him, whilst a silence round
Mark'd the wide air, and every spirit bound;
Nor was there there one heart obdurate found.

David again. “Long hath the wish been mine
“To rear a fabric fair, a House Divine,
“To Him whose presence fills the farthest lands,
“Yet dwells not in the temple made with hands!
“This was my fervent, longing, last desire,
“And but with life, fast closing, will expire.

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“On Solomon that honour high shall rest!
“And shall my sun sink cheerless in the west?
“Tho' I must not on that proud temple gaze,
“I will prepare the glorious house to raise,
“Where all our tribes shall shout Jehovah's praise!
“Hear me! and let your hearts expanded rise
“To offer now the willing sacrifice.
“What can we give to Him, the Heaven who fills?
“Who owns the cattle on a thousand hills?
“All that we have is his, and of his own
“A part we give, and his the praise alone!
“Throw wide your stores! I offer, with delight
“Toward the great work, which soon shall cheer your sight,
“The thousands that my spacious treasures swell,
“Prepared to build this house, where God may dwell,
“And, thro' the generations yet to rise,
“A Bethel be! the portal of the skies?
“Your hand advance not, while your heart reviles,
“God, on the cheerful giver, looks and smiles!”

It was an hour of gladness, to behold
Hosts press on hosts to pour their gems and gold;

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Each striving to exceed, in holy zeal,
Where all alike the generous impulse feel.
And now the up-piled wealth is shining there,
To build a House to God! the House of Prayer!

Sweet singer, Israel's Bard, to death draws nigh!
He joys not now in pomp and royalty,
Vain shadows! to the hope beyond the grave
He turns, and welcomes death's advancing wave!
His Sons, around his couch, in silence hang,
Weeping, to mark their Father's parting pang,
And feeling, in that lonely hour of pain,
How weak is love, and sympathy how vain!
Darkness retires! A flood of light divine,
Bursts on his mind, as earth and time decline.
The dews of death hang heavy on his brow,
But pain hath lost its sting, and sorrow now!
His foes o'ercome, and closing fast his race,
Each feature wears a more than mortal grace!
So calm, so sweet, his end, his ransom near,
Heaven seems begun, while yet he lingers here!
Brief pause! Impatient angels wait around
To bid their harps, wake with exulting sound

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Over a precious Brother, soon to be
Their loved companion thro' eternity!
Dust! take thy charge! The spirit bursts its way
Upborne triumphant from its clog of clay;
In nobler worlds, th' immortal strain to hymn
With the full choir of Saint and Seraphim!

484

BOOK XXVIII.

The First Heaven.

Behold! The spirit of the saint ascends,
Whilst on its course the seraph host attends!
Beyond the clouds, with every wind, that fly,
Beyond the moon, that cheers the evening sky,
Beyond the sun, it still pursues its flight,
And the fair stars that throng the vault of night:
Still on it soars, and now hath reach'd the seat,
The Paradise of God, that blest retreat,
Where the First Heaven is found, the World of Rest,
Made to receive the soul, when first undrest,
E'en all the sanctified, who here obtain
An end of tears and sighs, an end of pain.

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This is the New Jerusalem above,
The seat of blessedness, where all is love;
Whose streets are gold, whose battlements arise
In splendour, scarce endured by angels' eyes.
This is that city, where no sun is found,
No silver moon, to walk her nightly round,
No planets, glimmering thro' the twilight pale,
And where no more the evening clouds prevail;
But One is in the midst, the source of light!—
Of happiness! and there is there no night.

Sweet is it to the man who runs a race,
To reach his goal, his peaceful resting-place;
Sweet is it to the traveller, who with pain,
Toils o'er the dreary waste, the sandy plain,
Exposed to many a want, and many a fear,
To find the home where welcome waits to cheer;
Sweet is it to the voyager, who, long
Hath braved the adverse wind, the current strong;
Sailing 'mid unknown seas, a trackless way,
With tempests combating, by night, by day,
Fearing the whirlpool's rage, the pirate's chain,
To reach in peace, his haven once again:

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But, Oh! how sweeter to the mourning mind,
Escaped from earth, eternal rest to find,
Sorrow, and pain, and suffering, left behind!

When David stood upon the verge of death,
A host of angels watch'd his parting breath.
To bear his spirit from th' abodes of pain,
Messiah sent from Heaven, his noblest train,
Till (with its tenement of clay resign'd)
It rose a pure and unembodied mind.
Now is he usher'd to th' abodes divine,
Where all in sun-surpassing radiance shine.
Raphael, the highest of the cherub band,
Places the palm of victory in his hand;
Then shews his name in th' Book of Life enroll'd;
Uriel presents him with the crown of gold,
When now the Beatific Vision bright,
Bursts, in a flood of glory, on his sight!

In language, such as spirits speak and hear,
David to Raphael, thus, “And am I here!
“Amid the blest! the world of purity!
“Are those the high Arch-Angels which I see!

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“Is this the place where anthems never cease!
“Are these the seats of righteousness and peace!
“And shall I know no more of care and pain!
“In Heaven for ever live, for ever reign?
“I long to join the halleluia loud,
“Amongst yon golden harps, yon winged crowd!”

Raphael replied. “Not yet, Oh! spirit fair,
“Without reserve, may I all truth declare.
“This now I say. The Highest, me, hath sent,
“To hail thee to the Heavenly Firmament;
“For purer scenes, to clear thy visual ray,
“And, as thy mind can bear, fresh light convey.
“As once on earth, so knowledge, here, the same,
“Bursts not at once; a smoke! a spark! a flame!
“Our happiness doth step by step increase,
“And perfect joy succeed to perfect peace:
“From vale to hill we rise, whilst still we see
“Heights, far beyond, veil'd by Infinity!
“Heaven's first felicity which spirits know,
“Is, to behold whom once they loved below.
“Many will soon draw near, all Angels bright,
“To give thee welcome, to the realms of light.

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“Lift up thine eyes and see what soul is there
“Waving, with spotless robe, his palm in air.”

The Prophet Samuel hastes, in splendour drest;
He David welcomes to the world of rest.
“Where are thy sorrows now?” the Prophet said,
“Which made thee once in anguish hang thy head?
“View'd in the light, which God doth now supply,
“A dream! a passing vapour of the sky!
“Henceforth, on Zion's Mount, the Heavenly Fold,
“We both shall dwell, and tune our harps of gold!”
Now Jesse hastes! when David cried aloud,
“My Father! O'er my spirit transports crowd!
“I know thee thro' thy shining raiment clear!
“Tho' sweeter far, the same kind looks appear!
“But who is that? My Mother!” Joy was there
Which only Heaven could give, and Seraphs bear!

(Comparing Heavenly things, with things below,
The difference wide, which man must die to know)
In ardent greet, enfolded now they stand.
Raphael himself perceived his heart expand
To see the Son embrace his Mother mild,
To see the Mother clasp her angel Child!

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And silence round prevails. The Parent cried,
“No more shall distance, now, our souls divide!
“This is the permanent and peaceful shore,
“Where we, in unison, shall God adore,
“The bound, that sever'd once, to pass no more!”
O'er David's heart angelic rapture steals!
Too vast for words, the weight of bliss, he feels!
At length he said. “Oh, joy! Oh, transport new!
“Have I to pain and parting bid adieu!”
Jesse replied. “This long-forgotten word,
“Here, in these regions fair, is never heard.
“‘Farewell!’ that sound which in the world below,
“So often touch'd the tender chord of woe,
“Here, is unknown. The spring of care is dry,
“And God hath wiped the tear from every eye!”

David now thinks upon departed worth,
The friends whom once he knew and prized on earth.
He calls them one by one; they all appear,
Each clothed in shining raiment, white and clear;
Their lineaments the same, with such a change
As souls befit, who Heaven's bright regions range,
Where every form becomes its seraph dress,
And all is beauty, all is loveliness!

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Raphael now pointed to a numerous band,
Time's earliest tribes. See Adam foremost stand.
“Welcome!” he cried, “my Son, to this abode!
“We all, like thee, have trod the mortal road,
“And now, thro' favour, undeserved and free,
“Our home, the thrones of Paradise we see,
“Yet joy, the least in Heaven, alights on me!”
Oh! if in realms of bliss a face might wear
The earthly seriousness, that look was there!
Abel next came, felicitous, and spake,
“Spirit redeem'd! an Angel's welcome take!”
Next Enoch, with th' expanded wing drew near,
With which he fled from earth's benighted sphere.
And now the reverend Noah stood before,
And gave his welcome to the Heavenly shore.
The faithful Abraham next, with look benign,
Hail'd David to the Paradise Divine.
Isaac, behind, of Patriarchal Race,
Now forward hasten'd (kindness in his face)
With Jacob, and in David's ear exprest
“Welcome to Heaven, the mansions of the blest!”
Here Joseph stood, his many Brethren round,
When thus he cried. “I, too, like thee, was bound
“By sorrow, long, but now our tears are dry!
“Welcome, Oh, stranger Friend! to seats on high!”

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(Snatch'd as a brand, half burnt, with seraph's wing,
Near him he Pharaoh sees, th' Egyptian King!)
Now Moses came, no brighter spirit near,
“I hail thee!” he began, “Oh, David! here.
“Thou, now art safe, amid these fields of light,
“Where pain hath taken its perpetual flight!”
Now Joshua, with a smile, saints only know,
Welcomed the Stranger from the realms of woe.
Close after him appear'd his dearest friend,
Almost afraid the rapturous glance to send.
David beheld! His eyes, his transport tell!
When, in the arms of Jonathan he fell!
And now, with joy, which seem'd too much to bear,
David surveys a crowd, once sons of care,
And hastening down to death, without a sigh,
Won, from the world, by his sweet poesy!
Altho' unknown on earth, they now confess
Who warn'd them first, then cheer'd them in distress,
Whilst Israel's holy Bard, in Heaven, they bless!

Raphael now spake. “Receive instruction's voice!
“Pursuits which righteous spirits made their choice,
“Down in yon world, Heaven's regions fair display;
“Then but the dawn, but here the perfect day.

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“The heirs of glory, in the world beneath,
“With zeal, increasing still, were wont to breathe
“The burden'd sigh, after communion sweet
“With God, and Angels round the mercy seat!
“Here, in these skies, the germ of earth expands,
“And all, with bounding hearts, and lifted hands,
“Sing, ‘Glory! to the Highest!’ and declare
“Who rescued them from many a fatal snare;
“Who taught them, to desire, in God, to live,
“And covet purer joys than Time could give!
“But, sometimes, seraphs, at fix'd seasons, fly
“(Sweet alternation from ascriptions high)
“O'er the celestial nature, which displays
“More clear the God-head, more demands their praise.
“Those who, delighted, traced Jehovah's hand,
“When in their earthly state, here join the band
“Of kindred spirits pure, their tastes refined,
“To which they now direct th' angelic mind:
“With vision cleansed, thro' cloudless skies they gaze,
“Whilst each, at every view, fresh homage pays;
“Beholding God more clear, in all around,
“With naught to mar the pleasure, sight, or sound.

“Who once the earthly Harp rejoiced to sweep,
“Charm'd with the song divine, 'mid reverence deep,

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“Here praise their Maker in the rapturous flight,
“The thrilling tones, which Heaven's vast hosts delight.
“From yonder hill the notes that round thee flow
“(Now in melodious choir, now soft, now slow)
“All come, and there thy Elder Brethren wait,
“(Where all alike are humble, none are great)
“To hail thee, and the noblest Harp of all
“To offer, and thyself their Prince to call.

“Hear'st thou yon voices that now take the lead?
“This is the Infant Choir, from whom proceed
“The sweetest notes in Heaven. These can reveal
“Such airs, as make, new joy, e'en Angels feel.
“Brief Sojourners on earth! they just began,
“Unconscious, the appointed race for man,
“Not without woe; but He, who sees the end,
“From sorrow soon removed them. Here they bend
“Before the Throne, blest change! and now unite,
“(In notes peculiar, 'mid the seraphs bright)
“To chant ascriptions, with loud praise combined,
“To Him who call'd them early from mankind.
“For these, the Sire, in sorrow, droop'd his head!
“For these, the Mother tears of anguish shed!
“But if they ever felt redeeming power
“They all have join'd them here, and blest the hour

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“That saw them borne from Satan's snares away,
“Whilst child and parent the same homage pay,
“Their portion, Heaven! thro' one eternal day.

“Those who once earnest strove to fathom mind,
“Here better helps, and clearer mediums find;
“And with one glance correct, where years were past
“Feebly to see, and error at the last;
“Whilst each discovery magnifies that Friend
“Who no beginning had, shall have no end,
“In whom we live, and move, on whom depend.

“On earth one spring of anguish oft arose,
“Source of acutest pangs, and bitterest woes,
“From God and Good, our proneness to depart,
“In serving Heaven, the coldness of our heart;
“But here, thro' all devotion's varied round,
“The mind and heart in tune are ever found.
“At stated hours, one joy we all partake,
“All, with the song of praise, in concert break,
“And Glory, Might, and Power, to him ascribe
“Who rescued some, from every tongue and tribe,
“Wash'd all their sins away, their purchase paid,
“And brought them here, to stand in white array'd.

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“Nor do the Blest derive their least delight,
“Even here, where faith is swallow'd up in sight,
“From tracing oft the dark and devious way,
“Thro' which th' All-Wise required them once to stray.
“They, when on earth, with the submissive mind,
“Saw much, yet knew that much remained behind;
“Some things, so hard with right to reconcile,
“That Hope herself could hardly look and smile:
“The thought could scarce arise—‘Can he do wrong
“To whom the stars of morning give their song!’
“What once on earth was myst'ry, now is clear;
“No chance prevail'd in yon benighted sphere,
“Nor doth one doubt remain to trouble here.
“Arch-Angels, with delight, to spirits new,
“Explain the scenes of time, in long review,
“And point (first taught of God) the reasons deep,
“Which made so oft the Earthly Pilgrim weep.
“In hour, not distant, I shall sun-beams cast
“‘(Which Heaven will justify) on all the past;
“Shew, that the cares which late thy bosom rent,
“Were weigh'd and number'd, each in mercy sent—
“Order'd and sure. No sigh was thine, no tear
“Appointed not to cleanse, and bring thee here.

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“Those who, on earth, with nightly wonder pored
“Upon the starry Heavens, and God adored;
“Just glimpsed the laws that ruled the spangled sky,
“Here, with delight, each secret spring descry,
“And love to trace the still-unfolding light
“Thro' all the rounds of Wisdom Infinite.
“Nor are these deep-revolving minds restrained
“To Heaven itself. With spirit bold, unchain'd,
“And still adoring God, where'er they stray,
“They sometimes, out, excursive, wing their way,
“And range, at will, with the admiring eye,
“The constellated pavement of the sky,
“Still Messengers of Love. To worlds, wide spread,
“(Yon starry gems, that here faint lustre shed)
“Delightful visitation oft is paid;
“But these are scenes not now to be display'd.

“Did charity on earth, that flame divine,
“Illume one spot, and not around her shine?
“So here the holy principle expands.
“Upon a hill the musing Spirit stands,
“Beholds, and thinks, with earnestness profound,
“How best t' increase the bliss of all around;

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“Another's happiness still sought alone,
“In aiding which, he best promotes his own.”

David, on Raphael gazed, with fond surprise,
Listening, to catch the accents as they rise.
Th' Arch-Angel thus replied.

“The sons of earth,
“Form'd from the dust, corrupted from their birth,
“Sunk deep in sin; if ever wonder finds,
“Mix'd with surprise, an entrance to our minds,
“It is that beings, rebels doom'd to die,
“Should ever reach this Everlasting Sky!
“The tidings hear! Messiah, Son Divine!
“From times, on which no heavenly annals shine,
“Received yon world, while yet it had no name,
“From God, his Father, diverse, yet the same.
“At length the earth was form'd. In evil hour,
“From purity it fell, by Satan's power,
“And never more had gain'd Jehovah's smile,
“But deeper still had sunk in sin and guile,
“Had not Messiah, with spontaneous love,
“Offer'd to leave, for earth, the realms above,
“And in some way (to angel hearts unknown)
“Rescue and sanctify, redeem and own

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“A number, such as seraphs cannot count,
“And bring them safe to Zion's Heavenly Mount,
“Their first felicity! but they shall rise
“After the Judgment Day, to purer skies,
“To joys, no ear hath heard, no eye hath seen,
“And look on God, without a veil between.”

David replied. “What is the judgment day,
“Of which thou speak'st? The solemn truth display.”
When Raphael thus. “T' assemble in these skies,
“(When the last trump shall sound) the dead shall rise.
“The Sons of Earth, from every age and land,
“For Judgment, at Messiah's bar shall stand,
“Seraphic hosts around, when all shall hear
“The sentence, ‘Come!’ or, ‘Go!’—o'erwhelming fear,
“Or joy unspeakable, by all be known,
“Who waiting stand before Jehovah's throne.
“What bliss supreme, to hear the judge commend!
“To see him smile! to be esteem'd his friend!
“With all the Sons of God to find a place!
“To view the Lord of Glory, face to face!
“As yet, tho' Heaven is thine, thy opening mind
“But ill can grasp the joys, to such assign'd,
“Still growing, ever new, and more refined.

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“But what the dread reverse! no hope! no cure!
“To be compell'd to leave these regions pure!
“Far off from God, his anger to endure!
“To see the realms of light slow pass away,
“Follow'd by night that knows no second day!
“Banish'd from Heaven, from all the seats on high!
“To be pronounced his foe, who made the sky!
“To view these thrones of gold, these pastures green!
“With the broad gulf, impassable between!
“The horrors of that doom, to us unknown,
“Fall'n Angels only know, the Lost alone!

“When first the soul the world material leaves,
“A Vehicle Etherial it receives,
“Such as the spirit suits, with eye and ear,
“(Apparent) nor unknown to hope and fear,
“And passions diverse; either, call'd to reign,
“As here it comes, or sinks to realms of pain.
“A strict resemblance to its form below,
“In essence, each retains, by which all know
“Whom late they knew, with an undoubting mind,
“And hail, at once, their brethren of mankind.
“Till that dread hour arrive, which shall award
“To each his final doom, the Sovereign Lord

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“Two intermediate states hath made, to be
“The lot of all, or joy, or misery!
“This is the happy world, but when the sound
“Of th' Arch-Angel's trump shall shake the ground,
“And bid the dead arise, the dust of earth,
“Long slumbering in the tomb, to second birth,
“Omnipotence shall wake! The just shall shine,
“Then, in new dress, with beauty all divine,
“Sublimed and purified. (No more to grieve)
“Her body shall the widow'd soul receive,
“And to the Third Imperial Sky ascend!
“Where God, henceforth their everlasting friend,
“Shall cast the veil aside that hides his face,
“And from his Son receive his ransom'd race;
“When, in one spirit, each shall Heaven adore,
“And God, be All, in All, for evermore!

“These scenes surpass thy present range of soul,
“Yet these are atoms of a mountain whole,
“Unfolding in progression. I would raise,
“By known similitude, thy first dim gaze.
“Could the weak babe, in yonder vale of tears,
“Conceive of thy pursuits, thy hopes, thy fears?
“Yet, then, the infant nearer drew to thee,
“Than thou didst to Arch-Angels. By degree

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“New senses, wide and vast, wilt thou possess,
“New powers to taste, new springs of happiness,
“Increasing to increase, and all design'd
“To make thee more like God, the one great mind!
“Where angel thought is lost! tho' still we pore!
“Still love! still beauty see! and still adore!

“The joy that cheers thy soul, the purity
“That fills thy mind, I, in thy visage see.
“For here the heart is known, the thoughts are read;
“Each by the face of each, nor do we dread
“Concealment or mistake, these far have fled.
“Some beams, celestial, reach the world of woe:
“Some favour'd mortals glimpse e'en Heaven below;
“And all might more enjoy of what we feel,
“But for the power of sin—the heart of steel.
“Didst thou not drink sweet draughts of our delight
“When earth and time receded from thy sight;
“When shadows for a moment past away,
“And thou didst stretch thy thoughts toward perfect day?
“Didst thou not feel, in yonder seats of pain,
“(When harp and timbrel raised the solemn strain,
“In chorus loud, to Him whom Angels fear)
“Such kindred joy, as thrills thy spirit here?

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“Did not Communion with the Saints on earth
“Give thee some foretaste of thy heavenly birth,
“And (the stream tasting on thy mortal road)
“Bid thee press on to where the fountain flow'd?
“Oh! didst thou not, in many a musing hour
“Picture what copious joys would on thee shower
“If thou couldst choose, the kind, the good, the pure,
“To be thy sole companions, nor endure,
“Again, thro' all thy toilsome pilgrimage,
“Hate, anger, clamour, bitterness, and rage,
“All Sons of Hell! that, in the way they take,
“Call up the tempest, and the whirlwind wake.
“Now are thy hopes fulfill'd. Here all around
“With friendship true o'erflow, with truth abound,
‘Divested of those countless ills, and great,
“Call'd imperfections in the finite state.
“Spotless, as holy, here one heart prevails,
“Whilst each, in each, the brother owns and hails;
“Nor fears the bond of concord (that sweet string
“Which Heaven unites) to be a transient thing.”

David (his soul with thankfulness opprest)
Answer'd, “Oh, Angel! Noblest of the blest!
“Grateful, I hear thy words! What thou dost say
“Of him, Messiah, whom the Heavens obey!

503

“Throws glorious light on deeds and days that lower'd
“Down in yon world. I felt my mind o'erpower'd
“With views obscure of some Deliverer Great,
“To visit man, in his apostate state;
“And from th' imperious feeling, lo, I spake,
“‘The day-star on our night of death shall break!
“A Righteous One shall rise, to frustrate hell,
“To rescue those who in our Father fell,
“To spread the gates of Heaven, and bid the vile
“Behold Redemption, marching on, and smile!’
“Tho' dim my sight, my hope, my faith, was strong,
“And now new lights upon my vision throng!
“Where is Messiah? Where the Son Divine?
“Who ransom'd me? who on me deign'd to shine?
“To whom I owe this mansion in the sky?
“Oh! point! and let me to my Saviour fly!”

Raphael replied. “To Him alone you owe
“Deliverance from the lower worlds of woe;
“And all who here are found, with growing zeal,
“Worship their Lord, and love, increasing feel:
“For when they look upon the dark abyss,
“Which once was near, and taste their present bliss,
“No night to cloud the everlasting day,
“They feel their hearts dissolved and borne away

504

“With flood-like gratitude, to him their King,
“And, in the general choir, his praises sing!
“Messiah, Lord of All, thou soon wilt see,
“For where he is, the Ransom'd still must be.”

David replied. “If wise to thee it seem,
“Oh! Seraph blest! Shew me the Great Supreme?”

When Raphael thus. “Brief inmate of the sky,
“Thou couldst not bear the Father's Majesty!
“His presence, without veil, his awful sight,
“The full of his insufferable light!
“Tho' God is here, and all his presence feel,
“Yet doth he not, at first, himself reveal.
“Messiah, on his face the Saint reclines;
“In him, Jehovah lives, Jehovah shines!
“And in the Son, mysterious truth, we see
“Th' ameliorated beam of Deity.”

Raphael again. “Amid the worlds we own,
“A rumour hath prevail'd, its birth unknown,
“That in some future hour (none dared divine)
“Messiah would declare his deep design
“Respecting Earth and Man, which oft we view,
“Uncertain, and desire to look into.

505

“See'st thou yon stream, whose gentle billows raise
“Harmonious airs, the chorus of our praise?
“From mist it issues, and in mist expires!
“It comes from God, and back to God retires!
“This is the Tide of Happiness! to flow
“For ever fresh, whilst trees beside it grow,
“Bearing twelve kinds of fruit—but I must stay!
“Nor more, as yet, the joys of Heaven display!”

Scarce had the utterance ceased, when, lo! the sound
Of th' Arch-Angel's trumpet burst around,
Calling the sons of light, on swiftest wing,
T' approach Messiah, Heaven's exalted King.

Circling the Mount of God, with praises loud,
Ten thousand times ten thousand Angels crowd,
Shouting the “Halleluia!” whilst the song
Burst, in wide chorus, like a torrent strong,
“Great Potentate! To thee, whom all adore,
“Glory and power be given, for evermore!”
Upon the summit of the holy hill,
The silver mist, the vapour hovers still.
Ah! now (adorn'd with unimagin'd grace)
Messiah, Son Divine! displays his face!

506

The hosts, with awe o'erpower'd, all bow around,
And cast their crowns, obeisant, on the ground;
When thus Messiah (whilst his visage shone
Such as the Blest might scarcely look upon)
Solemn, began. “Oh! children of the earth
“Whom I have raised to an immortal birth,
“In me your joy is full, and you shall now
“Before my throne, with Saint and Seraph bow.”

The shout ascends, magnificent, that rose
To heights, not heard before, which onward flows
Thro' Heaven's vast hierarchy. From Israel's King
No mean acclaim proceeds. He waves his wing;
He joins the ranks that round Messiah fall,
And strives to lift his voice above them all.
What joy, beyond the range of finite mind,
David sustain'd, when, with the accent kind,
From the attendant crowd, all clad in white,
Messiah call'd him forth, a Seraph Bright,
For evermore, to stand before his sight!

Where envy has no place, all pause to know
What more, from th' fount beneficent might flow.
To David thus he spake. “The hosts around,
“Who here (from earth escaped, a home have found)

507

“Are all redeem'd from death, and hence to be
“Heirs of one common happiness with me.
“What brought the sinner to the realms above?
“My interceding voice, my fervent love!
“What makes him feel felicity supreme?
“My grace, my favour, that o'erflowing stream!
“What bids him on its stedfastness rely?
“My love, alone, eternal as the sky!”

In one o'erwhelming peal the harps proclaim
Glory! and power! and honour! to his name
Who led them, conquerors, thro' the world below,
And placed them there, where streams of pleasure flow.
A pause more solemn than the realms of light
Till then had known, prevail'd, when Angels bright
Witness'd no motion, and, the ear, no sound
Caught to obstruct the solemn hush around.

Messiah spake. “Till now, my aims have been
“Veil'd, save to Him, to whom my thoughts are seen,
“My Father! Now, a part will I declare,
“Such only as created mind can bear.
“When Man rebell'd, and Satan, ‘Triumph!’ sung,
“The Seraphim awhile their harps unstrung

508

“And shades the Heavens obscured. Jehovah's face
“Deep clouds conceal'd, whilst on the guilty race,
“(Just penalty!) the sentence, dread, went forth,
“‘Hell! take thy own, I have no part in earth!’
“I pleaded. Some around the accents heard.
“I, in my Father's ear the prayer preferr'd:
“I ask'd my own. I promised to secure,
“From the apostate race, a people pure,
“Rescued from Satan's tyranny severe,
“Whom I might bring to join the Seraphs here,
“Nor earth be made in vain, to me, so dear!
“Well-pleased, the hopeless captive to redeem,
“My Father gave the government supreme
“Of yonder world, all in confusion thrown;
“The tarnish'd gem he gave to me alone.
“Downward I fled, with my angelic host,
“To frustrate Satan in his lmpious boast,
“Calling the earth his own. Not with one blow
“Did I my flaming vengeance let him know,
“And instant send him back to realms below;
“I form'd the deep impenetrable plan,
“Evolving slow, to rescue Ruin'd Man;
“Producing good thro' evil, in the end
“To spread my Father's glory, and extend

509

“That saving beam to earth's deserted sphere;
“That great Salvation which hath brought you here;
“And shall ten thousand times ten thousand more,
“To wake the anthem loud, and God adore!”

Each eye upon Messiah stedfast gazed,
Unconscious, each the hand of wonder raised.
Again he spake.

“When yonder Angel fell,
“Adam, and yielded to the power of hell,
“There was a promise given, that th' woman's seed
“Should bruise the Serpent's head. Now victims bleed.
“Th' atoning sacrifice they all imply,
“That God required, for sin, that some should die.
“These offerings, with delight, inspired the mind
“When many a Saint, to death, his head resign'd,
“Seeking, with ardent hope, and clasped hand,
“Some better righteousness in which to stand.
“True to the silent monitor within,
“They walk'd in holy ways, they warr'd with sin;
“Look'd heaven-ward, Hope the sunshine of their breast,
“And, heirs of faith, obtain'd the promised rest.
“Some, in all ages have revered my name.
“The hosts around from toil and trouble came.

510

“This world for such was form'd. Their number great
“Myriads shall swell, who left their first estate
“Sinful and vile, and me their refuge made,
“Altho' obscured by type, and veil'd in shade.
“Yet, all the love that lingers round my heart,
“I must not till th' appointed hour, impart.
“Man, boasting of his reason, prone to raise
“Fresh temples to himself, thro' dreary days
“Hath wander'd far from good, and many an age
“Will wander still, still with fresh foes engage,—
“To teach,—that he the erring road hath trod,
“That Man's own wisdom cannot lead to God!
“I will, alone (when all is rayless night)
“Bring Life and Immortality to light!”

A deeper pause prevail'd. The spirits round
Hang on the words, to catch the faintest sound.
While joy burst forth from countless beaming eyes,
Messiah thus again.

“Amid these skies
“Good is progressive. Such on earth shall be:
“But all things for the end are made by me.
“Tho' drought and barrenness shall earth o'erspread,
“A little corn shall grace the mountain's head!

511

“Prophets shall rise, and tell of future days;
“They shall declare my will, and teach my praise.
“Bruising the Serpent with the iron rod,
“Their theme shall be, ‘Behold the Lamb of God!
“Let not the captive faint, the vile despair,
“A Virgin Mother shall an Offspring bear!
“A conqu'ror, yet avert Man's righteous doom,
“And teach, thro' Faith, to triumph o'er the tomb!’
“And what if I, my Father's only Son,
“Co-equal; with the Spirit, Three, yet One!
“What if Messiah should to earth descend
“To be the outcast's hope, the sinner's friend
“Assume the Human Form, to frustrate hell—
“And rescue myriads who in Adam fell!
“Lay by these robes, and Heaven awhile forsake,
“To kindle hope, from death the sting to take,
“And for Heaven's broken law th' atonement make!
“That mighty Conqueror, I, even I will be!
“For captives bound, the heirs of misery,
“I will to earth, in Human Form descend,
“And be the outcast's hope, the sinner's friend!

No voice was heard, whilst all the Angels round
Gazed, wondering, in the view stupendous drown'd;

512

Feeling within, new spring of joy divine,
That mercy, to the full, on man, should shine.
And now their spirits labour hard, to frame
Some state august, accordant with his name
About to bless, with light, the dreary grave,
To visit abject earth, and sinners save.

Messiah spake. “Kings of no crown deprive!
“Not, as you deem, shall mortal grandeur strive
“To lift his head, who freely Heaven resigns;
“Beyond your widest thought are my designs!
“When the whole structure from the ground is raised,
“All but the Corner Stone, of Prophets praised,
“Over yon fallen world of sin and woe,
“The Sun of Righteousness his beams will throw.
“Infant of Days, the Lord of All shall stand!
“Wants shall encompass him on every hand!
“His birth-place be a manger, and his bed
“The cold, hard, straw, on which the beasts are fed!
“He shall be found opprest, without relief,
“A Man of Sorrows, and o'erwhelm'd with grief!
“Be buffeted, be drench'd, with wave on wave,
“Even in the world he loved, and came to save!
“Alone, the weight endure, the wine-press tread,
“And have no dwelling where to rest his head.

513

“Disown'd of earth, for man, his sovereign choice,
“He will, unmoved, endure the scoffer's voice!
“Of friend will be betray'd! of foe be bought!
“Be spit upon! be mock'd! be set at nought!
“'Mid noise and uproar wild, 'mid shout and jar,
“Will stand as culprit at the human bar!
“The scourge sustain! no earthly solace nigh!
“Will wear the crown of thorns, without a sigh!
“And, on the Cross, exposed, will bleed and die!—
“Then, bursting from the Tomb, to Heaven will rise,
“Hell vanquish'd! and a ransom'd World his prize!”

The Angels veil their faces, whilst no sound,
Faintest, was heard, from all the hosts around.
At length they rise, and, waving wide their wing,
In the full choir, Messiah's praises sing!
Shouting, in prospect of a Saviour's Birth,
Of Man, from sin, redeem'd, of rescued earth,—
“Holy! thrice Holy, Potentate Divine!
“In whom alone Jehovah's glories shine!
“Thee we adore!” Forth burst majestic strains!
Hosannah's deepest note, each Harp sustains!
And long and loud the Halleluia reigns!

THE END.