Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, DAVIDEIS, A SACRED POEM OF THE TROUBLES OF DAVID: BOOK 2, by ABRAHAM COWLEY


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DAVIDEIS, A SACRED POEM OF THE TROUBLES OF DAVID: BOOK 2, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: But now the early birds begin to call
Last Line: Strait into shapeless air unseen he fell.
Subject(s): David (d. 962 B.c.); Jonathan (bible)


BUT now the early Birds began to call
The Morning forth; up rose the Sun and Saul;
Both, as Men thought, rose fresh from sweet
Repose;
But both, alas, from restless Labours rose.
For in Saul's Breast, Envy, the toilsome Sin,
Had all that Night active and ty'rannous been,
She expell'd all Forms of Kindness, Virtue, Grace,
Of the past Day no Footstep left or Trace.
The new-blown Sparks of his old Rage appear,
Nor could his Love dwell longer with his Fear.
So near a Storm wise David would not stay,
Nor trust the glittering of a faithless Day.
He saw the Sun call in his Beams apace,
And angry Clouds march up into their Place.
The Sea it self smooths his rough Brow a while,
Flattering the greedy Merchant with a Smile;
But he, whose Ship-wrack'd Barque it drank before,
Sees the Deceit, and knows it would have more.
Such is the Sea, and such was [also] Saul.
But Jonathan, his Son, and only Good,
Was gentle as fair Jordan's useful Flood.
Whose innocent Stream as it in Silence goes,
Fresh Honours, and a sudden Spring bestows
On both his Banks to ev'ry Flower and Tree;
The manner how lyes hid, th' Effect we see.
But more than all, more than himself he lov'd
The Man, whose Worth his Father's Hatred mov'd.
For when the noble Youth at Dammin stood,
Adorn'd with Sweat, and painted gay with Blood,
Jonathan pierc'd him through with greedy Eye,
And understood the future Majesty,
Then destin'd in the Glories of his Look;
He saw, and strait was with Amazement strook,
To see Strength, the Feature, and the Grace
Of his young Limbs; he saw his comely Face,
Where Love and Rev'rence so well-mingled were;
And Head, already crown'd with golden Hair.
He saw what Mildness his bold Sp'irit did tame,
Gentler than Light, yet powerful as a Flame.
He saw his Valour by their Safety prov'd;
He saw all this, and as he saw, he lov'd.
What art thou, Love, thou great mysterious thing?
From what hid Stock does thy strange Nature spring?
'Tis thou that mov'st the World through ev'ry Part,
And hold'st the vast Frame close, that nothing start
From the due Place and Office first ordain'd.
By Thee were all things made, and are sustain'd.
Sometimes we see thee fully, and can say
From hence thou took'st thy Rise, and went'st that way;
But oftner the short Beams of Reason's Eye,
See only, there thou art, not How, nor Why.
How is the Loadstone, Nature's subtle Pride,
By the rude Iron woo'd, and made a Bride?
How was the Weapon wounded? What hid Flame
The strong and conqu'ring Metal overcame?
Love (this World's Grace) exalts his Natural State;
He feels thee, Love, and feels no more his Weight.
Ye learned Heads, whom Ivy Garlands grace,
Why does that twining Plant the Oak embrace?
The Oak for Courtship most of all unfit,
And rough as are the Winds that fight with it?
How does the absent Pole the Needle move?
How does his Cold and Ice beget hot Love?
Which are the Wings of Lightness to ascend?
Or why does Weight to th' Centre downwards bend?
Thus Creatures void of Life obey thy Laws,
And seldom We, they never, know the Cause.
In thy large State, Life gives the next degree,
Where Sense, and Good Apparent places thee;
But thy chief Palace is Man's Heart alone,
Here are thy Triumphs, and full Glories shown;
Handsome Desires, and Rest about thee flee,
Union, Inhoerence, Zeal, and Extasie,
With thousand Joys cluster around thine Head,
O'er which a gall-less Dove her Wings does spread,
A gentle Lamb, purer and whiter far
Than Consciences of thine own Martyrs are,
Lyes at thy Feet; and thy right Hand does hold
The mystick Scepter of a Cross of Gold.
Thus doest thou sit (like Men e'er Sin had fram'd
A guilty Blush) Naked, but not asham'd.
What Cause then did the fab'ulous Ancients find,
When first their Superstition made thee blind?
'Twas they, alas, 'twas they who could not see,
When they mistook that Monster, Lust, for thee,
Thou art a bright, but not consuming Flame;
Such in th' amazed Bush to Moses came;
When that secure its new-crown'd Head did rear,
And chid the trembling Branches' needless Fear.
Thy Darts are healthful Gold, and downwards fall
Soft as the Feathers that they're fletch'd withal.
Such, and no other, were those secret Darts,
Which sweetly touch'd this noblest Pair of Hearts.
Still to one End they both so justly drew,
As courteous Doves together yok'd would do.
No weight of Birth did on one Side prevail,
Two Twins less even lye in Nature's Scale.
They mingled Fates, and both in each did share,
They both were Servants, they both Princes were.
If any Joy to one of them was sent,
It was most his, to whom it least was meant,
And Fortune's Malice betwixt both was crost,
For striking one, it wounded th' other most.
Never did Marriage such true Union find,
Or Men's Desires with so glad Violence bind;
For there is still some Tincture left of Sin,
And still the Sex will needs be stealing in.
Those Joys are full of Dross, and thicker far,
These, without Matter, clear and liquid are.
Such Sacred Love does Heav'n's bright Spirits fill,
Where Love is but to Understand and Will,
With swift and unseen Motions; such as we
Somewhat express in heightned Charity.
O ye blest One! whose Love on Earth became
So pure, that still in Heav'n 'tis but the same!
There now ye sit, and with mix'd Souls embrace,
Gazing upon great Love's mysterious Face,
And pity this base World where Friendship's made
A Bait for Sin, or else at best a Trade.
Ah wondrous Prince! Who a true Friend couldst be,
When a Crown flatter'd, and Saul threaten'd thee!
Who held'st him dear, whose Stars thy Birth did cross!
And bought'st him nobly at a Kingdom's Loss!
Isra'el's bright Scepter far less Glory brings;
There have been fewer Friends on Earth, than Kings.
To this strange pitch their high Affections flew;
'Till Nature's self scarece look'd on them as two.
Hither flies David for Advice and Aid,
As swift as Love and Danger could persuade,
As safe in Jonathan's Trust his Thoughts remain,
As when himself but dreams them o'er again.
My dearest Lord, farewel (said he) farewel;
Heav'n bless the King; may no Misfortune tell
Th' Injustice of his Hate, when I am dead;
They're coming now, perhaps; my guiltless Head
Here in your Sight, perhaps, must bleeding lye,
And scarce your own stand safe for being nigh.
Think me not scar'd with Death, howere't appear,
I know thou can'st not think so: 'Tis a Fear
From which thy Love, and Dammin speak me free;
I've met him Face to Face, and ne'er could see
One Terror in his Looks to make me fly
When Virtue bids me stand; but I would dye
So as becomes my Life, so as may prove
Saul's Malice, and at least excuse your Love.
He stopp'd, and spoke some Passion with his Eyes;
Excellent Friend (the gallant Prince replies)
Thou hast so prov'd thy Virtues, that they're known
To all good Men, more than to each his own.
Who lives in Israel, that can doubtful be
Of they great Actions? for he lives by thee.
Such is thy Valour, and thy vast Success,
That all things but thy Loyalty are less.
And should my Father at thy Ruin aim,
'Twould wound as much his Safety as his Fame.
Think them not coming then to slay thee here,
But doubt Mishaps, as little as you fear.
For by thy loving God, who e'er design
Against thy Life must strike at it through mine.
But I my Royal Father must acquit
From such base Guilt, or the low Thought of it.
Think on his Softness when from Death he freed
The faithless King of Am'aleck's cursed Seed;
Can he to' a Friend, to' a Son so bloody grow,
He who ev'n sinn'd but now to spare a Foe?
Admit he could; but with what Strength or Art
Could he so long close, and seal up his Heart?
Such Counsels jealous of themselves become,
And dare not fix without Consent of some.
Few Men so boldly ill, great Sins to do,
'Till licens'd and approv'd by others too.
No more (believ't) could he hide this from me,
Than I, had he discover'd it, from thee.
Here they Embraces join, and almost Tears;
'Till gentle David thus new-prov'd his Fears.
The Praise you pleas'd (great Prince) on me to spend,
Was all out-spoken when you stil'd me Friend.
That Name alone does dang'rous Glories bring,
And gives Excuse to th' Envy of a King.
What did his Spear, Force, and dark Plots impart,
But some eternal Rancour in his Heart?
Still does he glance the Fortune of that Day,
When drown'd in his own Blood Goliah lay,
And cover'd half the Plain; still hears the Sound
How that vast Monster fell, and strook the Ground:
The Dance, and, David his ten thousand slew,
Still wound his sickly Soul, and still are new.
Great Acts t' ambitious Princes Treason grow,
So much they hate that Safety which they owe.
Tyrants dread all whom they raise high in Place,
From the Good, Danger; from the Bad, Disgrace.
They doubt the Lords, mistrust the People's Hate,
'Till Blood become a Principle of State.
Secur'd nor by their Guards, nor by their Right,
But still they fear ev'n more than they affright.
Pardon me, Sir, your Father's rough and stern:
His Will too strong to bend, too proud to learn.
Remember, Sir, the Honey's deadly Sting;
Think on that savage Justice of the King.
When the same Day that saw you do before
Things above man, should see you Man no more.
'Tis true th' accursed Agag mov'd his Ruth,
He pity'd his tall Limbs, and comely Youth;
Had seen, alas, the Proof of Heav'n's fierce Hate,
And fear'd no Mischief from his pow'rless Fate.
Remember how th' old Seer came raging down,
And taught him boldly to suspect his Crown.
Since then his Pride quakes at th' Almighty's Rod,
Nor dares he love the Man belov'd by God.
Hence his deep Rage and trembling Envy springs;
Nothing so wild as Jealousie of Kings.
Whom should he Counsel ask, with whom advise,
Who Reason and God's Counsel does despise?
Whose head-strong Will no Law or Conscience daunt,
Dares he not sin, d' you think, without your Grant?
Yes, if the Truth of our fix'd Love he knew,
He would not doubt, believ't, to kill ev'n you.
The Prince is mov'd, and strait prepares to find
The deep Resolves of his griev'd Father's Mind.
The Danger now appears, Love can soon show't,
And force his stubborn Piety to know't.
They' agree that David should conceal'd abide,
'Till his great Friend had the Court's Temper try'd,
'Till he had Saul's most secret Purpose found,
And search'd the Depth and Rancour of his Wound.
'Twas the Year's seventh-born Moon; the solemn Feast
That with most Noise its sacred Mirth exprest.
From op'ning Morn 'till Night shuts in the Day,
On Trumpets and shrill Horns the Levites play.
Whether by this in mystick Type we see
The New-Year's-Day of great Eternity,
When the chang'd Moon shall no more Changes make,
And scatter'd Deaths by Trumpet's Sound awake;
Or that the Law be kept in Mem'ry still,
Giv'n with like Noise on Sina's shining Hill,
Or that (as some Men teach) it did arise
From faithful Abram's righteous Sacrifice,
Who, whilst the Ram on Isaac's Fire did fry,
His Horn with joyful Tunes stood sounding by.
Obscure the Cause, but God his Will declar'd,
And all nice Knowledge then with Ease is spar'd.
At the third Hour Saul to the hallow'd Tent
Midst a large Train of Priests and Courtiers went;
The sacred Herd march'd proud and softly by,
Too fat and gay to think their Deaths so nigh.
Hard fate of Beasts, more innocent than we!
Prey to our Lux'ury, and our Piety!
Whose guiltless Blood on Boards and Altars spilt,
Serves both to make, and expiate too our Guilt!
Three Bullocks of free Neck, two gilded Rams,
Two well-wash'd Goats, and fourteen spotless Lambs,
With the three vital Fruits, Wine, Oyl, and Bread,
(Small Fees to Heav'n of all by which we're fed)
Are offer'd up; the hallowed Flames arise,
And faithful Pray'rs mount with them to the Skies.
From thence the King to th' outmost Court is brought,
Where heav'nly things an inspir'd Prophet taught,
And from the sacred Tent to' his Palace Gates,
With glad kind Shouts th' Assembly on him waits;
The chearful Horns before him loudly play,
And fresh-strew'd Flow'rs paint his triumphant Way.
Thus in slow State to th' Palace Hall they go,
Rich-dress'd for solemn Luxury and Show;
Ten pieces of bright Tap'estry hung the Room,
The noblest Work e'er stretch'd on Syrian Loom;
For wealthy Adri'el in proud Sydon wrought,
And giv'n to Saul when Saul's best Gift he sought,
The bright-ey'd Merab; for that mindful Day
No Ornament so proper seem'd as they.
There all old Abram's Story you might see;
And still some Angel bore him Company.
His painful, but well-guided Travels, show
The Fate of all his Sons, the Church below.
Here beauteous Sara to great Pharo came,
He blush'd with sudden Passion, she with Shame;
Troubled she seem'd, and lab'ring in the Strife
'Twixt her own Honour, and her Husband's Life.
Here on a conqu'ring Host that careless lay,
Drown'd in the Joys of their new-gotten Prey,
The Patriarch falls; well-mingled might you see
The confus'd Marks of Death and Luxury.
In the next Piece bless'd Salem's mystick King,
Does Sacred Presents to the Victor bring;
Like him whose Type he bears, his Rights receives;
Strictly requires his Due, yet freely gives.
Ev'n in his Port, his Habit, and his Face,
The mild, and great, the Priest and Prince had place.
Here all their starry Host the Heav'ns display;
And, lo, an heav'nly Youth, more fair than they,
Leads Abram forth; points upwards; such, said he,
So bright and numberless thy Seed shall be.
Here he with God a new Alliance makes,
And in his Flesh the Marks of Homage takes;
Here he the three mysterious Persons feasts,
Well paid with joyful Tidings by his Guests.
Here for the wicked Town he prays, and near
Scarce did the wicked Town through Flames appear.
And all his Fate, and all his Deeds were wrought,
Since he from Ur to Ephron's Cave was brought.
But none 'mongst all the Forms drew then their Eyes
Like faithful Abram's righteous Sacrifice.
The sad old Man mounts slowly to the Place,
With Nature's Power triumphant in his Face
O'er the Mind's Courage; for in spight of all,
From his swoln Eyes resistless Waters fall.
The inn'ocent Boy his cruel Burthen bore
With smiling Looks, and sometimes walk'd before,
And sometimes turn'd to talk; above was made
The Altar's fatal Pile, and on it laid
The Hope of Mankind; patiently he lay,
And did his Sire, as he his God, obey.
The mournful Sire lifts up at last the Knife,
And on one Moment's String depends his Life,
In whose young Loins such brooding Wonders lye.
A thousand Spir' its peep'd from th' affrighted Sky,
Amaz'd at this strange Scene; and almost fear'd,
For all those joyful Prophesies they'd heard.
'Till one leap'd nimbly forth by God's Command
Like Lightning from a Cloud, and stopt his Hand.
The gentle Spirit smil'd kindly as he spoke,
New Beams of Joy through Abram's Wonder broke.
The Angel points to' a Tuft of Bushes near,
Where an entangled Ram does half appear,
And struggles vainly with that fatal Net,
Which though but slightly wrought, was firmly set.
For, lo, anon, to this sad Glory doom'd,
The useful Beast on Isaac's Pile consum'd;
Whilst on his Horns the ransom'd Couple plaid,
And the glad Boy danc'd to the Tunes he made,
Near this Hall's End a Shittim Table stood;
Yet well-wrought Plate strove to conceal the Wood.
For from the Foot a Golden Vine did sprout,
And cast his fruitful Riches all about.
Well might that beauteous Ore the Grape express,
Which does weak Man intoxicate no less.
Of the same Wood the gilded Beds were made,
And on them large embroider'd Carpets laid,
From Egypt the rich Shop of Follies brought;
But Arts of Pride all Nations soon are taught.
Behold sev'n comely blooming Youths appear,
And in their Hands sev'n Silver Washpots bear,
Curl'd, and gay clad; the choicest Sons that be
Of Gibeon's Race, and Slaves of high degree.
Sev'n beauteous Maids march'd softly in behind;
Bright Scarves their Cloaths, their Hair fresh Garlands bind,
And whilst the Princes wash, they on them shed
Rich Ointments, which their costly Odours spread
O'er the whole Room; from their small Prisons free
With such glad Haste through the wide Air they flee.
The King was plac'd alone, and o'er his Head
A well-wrought Heav'n of Silk and Gold was spread.
Azure the Ground, the Sun in Gold shone bright,
But pierc'd the wandring Clouds with Silver Light.
The right hand Bed the King's three Sons did grace,
The third was Abner's, Adriel's, David's Place.
And twelve large Tables more were fill'd below,
With the prime Men Saul's Court and Camp could show;
The Palace did with Mirth and Musick sound,
And the crown'd Goblets nimbly mov'd around.
But though bright Joy in ev'ry Guest did shine,
The Plenty, State, Musick, and sprightful Wine
Were lost on Saul; an angry Care did dwell
In his dark Breast, and all gay Forms expel.
David's unusual Absence from the Feast,
To his sick Spir'it did jealous Thoughts suggest.
Long lay he still, nor drank, nor eat, nor spoke,
And thus at last his troubled Silence broke.
Where can he be? said he; It must be so:
With that he paus'd awhile; Too well we know
His boundless Pride: He grieves and hates to see
The solemn Triumphs of my Court and me.
Believe me, Friends, and trust what I can show
From thousand Proofs, th' ambitious David now
Does those vast things in his proud Soul design
That too much Business give for Mirth or Wine.
He's kindling now, perhaps, rebellious Fire
Among the Tribes, and does ev'n now conspire
Against my Crown, and all our Lives, whilst we
Are loth ev'n to suspect, what we might see.
By the Great Name, 'tis true.
With that he strook the Board, and no Man there
But Jonathan durst undertake to clear
The blameless Prince; and scarce ten Words he spoke,
When thus his Speech th' enrag'd Tyrant broke.
Disloyal Wretch! thy gentle Mother's Shame!
Whose cold pale Ghost ev'n blushes at thy Name!
Who fears lest her chaste Bed should doubted be,
And her white Fame stain'd by black Deeds of thee!
Can'st thou be Mine? A Crown sometimes does hire
Ev'n Sons against their Parents to conspire,
But ne'er did Story yet, or Fable tell
Of one so wild, who meerly to rebel
Quitted th' unquestion'd Birth-right of a Throne,
And bought his Father's Ruin with his own:
Thou need'st not plead th' ambitious Youth's Defence;
Thy Crime clears his, and makes that Innocence.
Nor can his foul Ingratitude appear,
Whilst thy unnatural Guilt is plac'd so near.
Is this that noble Friendship you pretend?
Mine, thine own Foe, and thy worst En'emy's Friend?
If thy low Spirit can thy great Birth-right quit,
The thing's but just, so ill deserv'st thou it.
An and thy Brethren here have no such Mind;
Nor such prodigious Worth in David find,
That we to him should our just Rights resign,
Or think God's Choice not made so well as thine.
Shame of thy House and Tribe! hence, from mine Eye,
To thy false Friend, and servile Master fly;
He's e'er this time in Arms expecting thee;
Haste, for those Arms are rais'd to ruin me.
Thy Sin that way will nobler much appear,
Than to remain his Spy and Agent here.
When I think this, Nature by thee forsook,
Forsakes me too. With that his Spear he took
To strike at him; the Mirth and Musick cease;
The Guests all rise this sudden Storm t' appease;
The Prince his Danger and his Duty knew;
And low he bow'd, and silently withdrew.
To David strait, who in a Forest nigh
Waits his Advice, the Royal Friend does fly.
The sole Advice, now like the Danger clear,
Was in some foreign Land this Storm t' out-wear.
All Marks of comely Grief in both are seen;
And mournful kind Discourses pass'd between.
Now generous Tears their hasty Tongues restrain,
Now they begin, and talk all o'er again.
A reverend Oath of constant Love they take,
And God's high Name their dreaded Witness make;
Not that at all their Faiths could doubtful prove;
But 'twas the tedious Zeal of endless Love.
Thus e'er they part, they the short Time bestow
In all the Pomp Friendship and Grief could show.
And David now with doubtful Cares opprest,
Beneath a Shade borrows some little Rest;
When by Command Divine, thick Mists arise,
And stop the Sense, and close the conquer'd Eyes.
There is a Place which Man most high doth rear,
The small World's Heav'n, where Reason moves the Sphere.
Here in a Robe which does all Colours show,
(Th' Envy of Birds, and the Clouds gawdy Bow)
Fancy, wild Dame, with much lascivious Pride
By twin-Camelions drawn, does gaily ride.
Her Coach there follows, and throngs round about
Of Shapes and airy Forms an endless Rout.
A Sea rolls on with harmless Fury here;
Strait 'tis a Field, and Trees and Herbs appear.
Here in a Moment are vast Armies made,
And a quick Scene of War and Blood display'd.
Here sparkling Wines, and brighter Maids come in,
The Bawds for Sense, and lying Baits of Sin.
Some things arise of strange and quarr'elling kind,
The Forepart Lion, and a Snake behind;
Here golden Mountains swell the cov'etous Place,
And Centaurs ride themselves, a painted Race.
Of these slight Wonders Nature sees the Store,
And only then accounts her self but poor.
Hither an Angel comes in David's Trance,
And finds them mingled in an antique Dance;
Of all the numerous Forms fit Choice he takes,
And joins them wisely, and this Vision makes.
First David there appears in Kingly State,
Whilst the twelve Tribes his dread Commands await;
Strait to the Wars with his join'd Strength he goes,
Settles new Friends, and frights his ancient Foes.
To Solima, Cana'an's old Head, they came,
(Since high in Note, then not unknown to Fame)
The Blind and Lame th' undoubted Wall defend,
And no new Wounds or Dangers apprehend.
The busie Image of great Joab there
Disdains the Mock, and teaches them to fear.
He climbs the airy Walls, leaps raging down,
New-minted Shapes of Slaughter fill the Town.
They curse the Guards their Mirth and Brav'ry chose,
All of them now are slain, or made like those.
Far through an inward Scene an Army lay,
Which with full Banners a fair Fish display.
From Sidon Plains to happy Egypt's Coast
They seem all met; a vast and warlike Host.
Thither hastes David to his destin'd Prey,
Honour, and noble Danger lead the Way;
The conscious Trees shook with a reverend Fear
Their unblown Tops; God walk'd before him there.
Slaughter the weary'd Riphaim's Bosom fills,
Dead Corps imboss the Vale with little Hills.
On th' other Side Sophene's mighty King
Numberless Troops of the bless'd East does bring:
Twice are his Men cut off, and Chariots ta'en;
Damascus and rich Adad help in vain.
Here Nabathoean Troops in Battel stand,
With all the lusty Youth of Syrian Land;
Undaunted Joab rushes on with speed,
Gallantly mounted on his fiery Steed;
He hews down all, and deals his Deaths around;
The Syrians leave, or possess dead, the Ground.
On th' other Wing does brave Abishai ride
Reeking in Blood and Dust; on ev'ry Side
The perjur'd Sons of Ammon quit the Field:
Some basely die, and some more basely yield.
Through a thick Wood the wretched Hanun flies,
And far more justly then fears Hebrew Spies.
Moloch, their bloody God, thrusts out his Head,
Grinning thro' a black Cloud; him they'd long fed
In his sev'n Chambers, and he still did eat
New-roasted Babes, his dear, delicious Meat.
Again they 'arise, more anger'd and dismay'd;
Euphrates, and swift Tigris sends them Aid:
In vain they send it, for again they're slain,
And feast the greedy Birds on Helay Plain.
Here Rabba with proud Tow'rs affronts the Sky,
And round about great Joab's Trenches lye,
They force the Walls, and sack the helpless Town;
On David's Head shines Ammon's massie Crown.
Midst various Torments the curst Race expires,
David himself his severe Wrath admires.
Next upon Isra'el's Throne does bravely sit
A comely Youth endow'd with wondrous Wit.
Far from the parched Line a Royal Dame,
To hear his Tongue and boundless Wisdom came.
She carry'd back in her triumphant Womb
The glorious Stock of thousand Kings to come.
Here brightest Forms his Pomp and Wealth display,
Here they a Temple's vast Foundations lay.
A mighty Work; and with fit Glories fill'd,
For God t' enhabit, and that King to build.
Some from the Quarries hew out massie Stone,
Some draw it up with Cranes, some breath and grone
In Order o'er the Anvil; some cut down
Tall Cedars, the proud Mountains' ancient Crown:
Some carve the Trunks, and breathing Shapes bestow,
Giving the Trees more Life than when they grow;
But, oh (alas) what sudden Cloud is spread
About this glorious King's eclipsed Head?
It all his Fame benights, and all his Store,
Wrapping him round, and now he's seen no more.
When straight his Son appears at Sichem crown'd.
With young and heedless Council circled round;
Unseemly Object! But a falling State
Has always its own Errors join'd with Fate.
Ten Tribes at once forsake the Jessian Throne,
And bold Adoram at his Message stone;
Brethren of Israel! -- More he fain would say,
But a Flint stopp'd his Mouth, and Speech i'th' way.
Here this fond King's Disasters but begin,
He's destin'd to more Shame by 'his Father's Sir.
Susack comes up, and under his Command
A dreadful Army from scorch'd Africk's Sand
As numberless as that; all is his Prey:
The Temple's sacred Wealth they bear away;
Adrazar's Shields and Golden Loss they take;
Ev'n David in his Dream does sweat and shake.
Thus fails this wretched Prince; his Loins appear
Of less Weight now, than Solomon's Fingers were.
Abijah next seeks Isra'el to regain,
And wash in Seas of Blood his Father's Stain;
Ne'er saw the aged Sun so cruel Fight,
Scarce saw he this, but hid his bashful Light.
Nebat's curst Son fled with not half his Men,
Where were his Gods of Dan and Bethel then?
Yet could not this the fatal Strife decide;
God punish'd one, but blest not th' other Side.
Asan a just and virtuous Prince succeeds;
High rais'd by Fame for great and godly Deeds;
He cut the solemn Groves where Idols stood,
And Sacrifis'd the Gods with their own Wood.
He vanquish'd thus the proud weak Pow'rs of Hell,
Before him next their doating Servants fell.
So huge an Host of Zerah's Men he slew,
As made ev'n that Arabia Desert too.
Why fear'd he then the perjur'd Baasha's fight?
Or bought the dangerous Aid of Syrian's Might?
Conquest Heav'n's Gift, cannot by Man be sold;
Alas, what Weakness trusts he? Man and Gold.
Next Josaphat possess'd the Royal State;
An happy Prince, well worthy of his Fate;
His oft Oblations on God's Altar made,
With thousand Flocks, and thousand Herds are paid,
Arabian Tribute! What mad Troops are those,
Those mighty Troops that dare to be his Foes?
He Prays them dead; with mutual Wounds they fall;
One Fury brought, one Fury slays them all.
Thus sits he still, and sees himself to win;
Never o'ercome but by's Friend Ahab's Sin;
On whose Disguise Fates then did only look;
And had almost their God's Command mistook.
Him from whose Danger Heav'n securely brings,
And for his sake two ripely wicked Kings.
Their Armies languish, burnt with Thirst at Seere,
Sighs all their Cold, Tears all their Moisture there.
They fix their greedy Eyes on th' empty Sky,
And fancy Clouds, and so become more dry.
Elisha calls for Waters from afar
To come; Elisha calls, and here they are.
In Helmets they quaff round the welcome Flood;
And the Decrease repair with Moab's Blood.
Jehoram next, and Ochoziah throng
For Judah's Scepter; both short-liv'd too long.
A Woman too from Murther Title claims;
Both with her Sins and Sex the Crown she shames.
Proud cursed Woman! But her Fall at last
To doubting Men clears Heav'n for what was past.
Joas at first does bright and glorious show;
In Life's fresh Morn his Fame did early crow.
Fair was the Promise of his dawning Ray,
But Prophet's angry Blood o'ercast his Day.
From thence his Clouds, from thence his Storms begin,
It cries aloud, and twice let's Aram in.
So Amaziah lives, so ends his Reign;
Both by their Trayt'erous Servants justly slain.
Edom at first dreads his victorious Hand,
Before him thousand Captives trembling stand.
Down a Prec'ipice deep, down he casts them all,
The Mimick Shapes in several Postures fall.
But then (mad Fool!) he does those Gods adore,
Which when pluck'd down, had worshipt him before.
Thus all his Life to come is Loss and Shame;
No help from Gods, who themselves help'd not, came.
All this Uzziah's Strength and Wit repairs,
Leaving a well-built Greatness to his Heirs.
'Till Leprous Scurff o'er his whole Body cast,
Takes him at first from Men, from Earth at last.
As virtuous was his Son, and happier far;
Buildings his Peace, and Trophies grac'd his War.
But Achaz heaps up Sins, as if he meant
To make his worst Forefathers Innocent.
He burns his Son at Hinon, whilst around
The roaring Child Drums and loud Trumpets sound
This to the Boy a barb'arous Mercy grew,
And snatch'd him from all Mis'ries to ensue.
Here Peca comes, and hundred thousands fall,
Here Rezin marches up, and sweeps up all:
'Till like a Sea the Great Belochus' Son
Breaks upon both, and both does over-run.
The last of Adad's ancient Stock is slain,
Isra'el captiv'd, and rich Damascus ta'en.
All his wild Rage to revenge Juda's Wrong;
But wo to Kingdoms that have Friends too strong!
Thus Hezekiah the torn Empire took,
And Assur's King with his worse Gods forsook,
Who to poor Juda Worlds of Nations brings:
There Rages, utters vain and mighty things;
Some dream of Triumphs, and exalted Names,
Some of dear Gold, and some of beauteous Dames;
Whilst in the midst of their huge sleepy Boast,
An Angel scatters Death through all the Host.
Th' affrighted Tyrant back to Babel hies,
There meets an End far worse than that he flies.
Here Hezekiah's Life is almost done!
So good, and yet, alas! so short 'tis spun.
Th' end of the Line was ravell'd, weak and old;
Time must go back, and afford better Hold
To tie a new Thread to 't, of fifteen Years;
'Tis done; Th' Almighty Power of Prayer and Tears!
Backward the Sun, an unknown Motion, went;
The Stars gaz'd on, and wond'red what he meant:
Manasses next (forgetful Man!) begins;
Enslav'd, and sold to Ashur by his Sins.
'Till by the Rod of learned Mis'ry taught,
Home to his God and Country both he's brought.
It taught not Ammon, nor his Hardness brake;
He's made th' Example he refus'd to take.
Yet from this Root a goodly Cyon springs;
Josiah best of Men, as well as Kings.
Down went the Calves with all their Gold and Cost;
The Priests then truly griev'd, Osyris lost,
These mad Egyptian Rites 'till now remain'd;
Fools! they their worser Thraldom still retain'd!
In his own Fires Moloch to Ashes fell,
And no more Flames must have besides his Hell.
Like End Astarte's horned Image found,
And Baal's spired Stone to Dust was ground.
No more were Men in Female Habit seen,
Or they in Men's by the lewd Syrian Queen;
No lustful Maids at Benos Temple sit,
And with their Body's Shame their Marriage get.
The double Dagon neither Nature saves,
Nor flies she back to th' Erythroean Waves.
The trav'elling Sun sees gladly from on high
His Chariots burn, and Nergal quenched lye.
The King's impartial Anger lights on all,
From Fly-blown Acca'ron to the thundring Baal.
Here David's Joy unruly grows and bold;
Nor could Sleep's silken Chain its Vio'lence hold;
Had not the Angel to seal fast his Eyes
The Humours stirr'd, and bid more Mists arise:
When straight a Chariot hurries swift away,
And in it good Josiah bleeding lay.
One Hand's held up, one stops the Wound; in vain
They both are us'd; alas, he's slain, he's slain.
Jehoias and Jehoikim next appear;
Both urge that Vengeance which before was near.
He in Egyptian Fetters Captive dies,
This by more courteous Anger murther'd lyes.
His Son and Brother next do Bonds sustain,
Isra'el's now solemn and Imperial Chain.
Here's the last Scene of this proud City's State;
All Ills are met ty'd in one Knot of Fate.
Their endless Slavery in this Trial lay;
Great God had heap'd up Ages in one Day:
Strong Works around the Wall the Caldees build,
The Town with Grief and dreadful Bus'iness fill'd.
To their carv'd Gods the frantick Women pray,
Gods which as near their Ruin were as they.
At last in rushes the prevailing Foe,
Does all the Mischief of proud Conquest show.
The wond'ring Babes from Mothers' Breasts are rent,
And suffer Ills they neither fear'd nor meant.
No Silver Rev'rence guards the stooping Age,
No Rule or Method ties their boundless Rage.
The glorious Temple shines in Flames all o'er,
Yet not so bright as in its Gold before.
Nothing but Fire or Slaughter meets the Eyes,
Nothing the Ear but Groans and dismal Cries.
The Walls and Towers are level'd with the Ground,
And scarce ought now of that vast City's found
But Shards and Rubbish which weak Signs might keep
Of forepast Glory, and bid Trav'ellers weep.
Thus did triumphant Assur homewards pass,
And thus Jerus'alem left, Jerusalem that was.
Thus Zedechiah saw, and this not all,
Before his Face his Friends and Children fall,
The Sport of ins'olent Victors; this he views,
A King and Father once; ill Fate could use
His Eyes no more to do their Master's Spight;
All to be seen she took, and next his Sight.
Thus a long Death in Prison he out-wears;
Bereft of Grief's last Solace, ev'n his Tears.
Then Jeconiah's Son did foremost come,
And he who brought the Captiv'd Nation home;
A Row of Worthies in long Order pass'd
O'er the short Stage; of all old Joseph last.
Fair Angels pass'd by next in seemly Bands,
All gilt, with gilded Baskets in their Hands.
Some as they went the blue-ey'd Violets strew,
Some spotless Lilies in loose Order threw.
Some did the Way with full-blown Roses spread;
Their Smell Divine, and Colour strangely red;
Not such as our dull Gardens proudly wear,
Whom Weathers taint, and Winds' rude Kisses tear:
Such, I believe, was the first Rose's Hew,
Which, at God's Word, in beauteous Eden grew.
Queen of the Flowers, which made that Orchard gay,
The Morning Blushes of the Spring's new Day.
With sober Pace an heav'nly Maid walks in,
Her Looks all fair; no Sign of Native Sin
Through her whole Body writ; Immod'rate Grace
Spoke things far more than Human in her Face.
It casts a dusky Gloom o'er all the Flow'rs;
And with full Beams their mingled Light devours.
An Angel strait broke from a shining Cloud,
And press'd his Wings, and with much Rev'rence bow'd.
Again he bow'd, and grave Approach he made,
And thus his Sacred Message sweetly said:
Hail, full of Grace, thee the whole World shall call
Above all Bless'd; thee, who shalt bless them all.
Thy Virgin Womb in wondrous sort shall shrowd
Jesus the God; (and then again he bow'd)
Conception the great Spirit shall breath on thee;
Hail thou, who must God's Wife, God's Mother be!
With that, his seeming Form to Heav'n he rear'd;
She low Obeisance made, and disappear'd.
Lo a new Star three Eastern Sages see;
(For why should only Earth a Gainer be?)
They saw this Phosphor's Infant-light, and knew
It bravely usher'd in a Sun as New.
They hasted all this rising Sun t' adore;
With them rich Myrrh, and early Spices bore.
Wise Men; no fitter Gift your Zeal could bring;
You'll in a noisome Stable find your King.
Anon a thousand Dev'ils run roaring in;
Some with a dreadful Smile deform'dly grin.
Some stamp their cloven Paws, some frown, and tear
The gaping Snakes from their black-knoted Hair.
As if all Grief, and all the Rage of Hell
Were doubled now, or that just now they fell.
But when the dreaded Maid they entring saw,
All fled with trembling Fear and silent Awe.
In her chaste Arms th' Eternal Infant lyes,
Th' Almighty Voice chang'd into feeble Cries.
Heav'n contain'd Virgins oft, and will do more;
Never did Virgin contain Heav'n before.
Angels peep round to view this mystick thing,
And Halleluiah round, all Halleluiah sing.
No longer could good David quiet bear
Th' unwieldy Pleasure, which o'er-flow'd him here.
It broke the Fetters, and burst ope his Eye,
Away the tim'rous Forms together fly.
Fix'd with amaze he stood; and Time must take,
To learn if yet he were at last awake.
Sometimes he thinks that Heav'n this Vision sent,
And order'd all the Pageants as they went.
Sometimes, that only 'twas wild Fancy's play,
The loose and scatter'd Reliques of the Day.
When Gabriel (no blest Spirit more kind or fair)
Bodies and Cloaths himself with thicken'd Air.
All like a comely Youth in Life's fresh Bloom;
Rare Workmanship, and wrought by heav'nly Loom!
He took for Skin a Cloud most soft and bright,
That e'er the mid-day Sun pierc'd through with Light:
Upon his Cheeks a lively Blush he spread,
Wash'd from the Morning Beauties' deepest Red.
An harmless flaming Meteor shone for Hair,
And fell adown his Shoulders with loose Care.
He cuts out a silk Mantle from the Skies,
Where the most sprightly Azure pleas'd the Eyes.
This he with starry Vapours spangles all,
Took in their Prime e'er they grow ripe, and fall.
Of a new Rainbow e'er it fret or fade,
The choicest Piece took out, a Scarf is made.
Small streaming Clouds he does for Wings display,
Not virtuous Lovers' Sighs more soft then they.
These he gilds o'er with the Sun's richest Rays,
Caught gliding o'er pure Streams on which he plays.
Thus dress'd the joyful Gabriel posts away,
And carries with him his own glorious Day
Through the thick Woods; the gloomy Shades a while
Put on fresh Looks, and wonder why they smile.
The trembling Serpents close and silent lye,
The Birds obscene far from his Passage fly.
A sudden Spring waits on him as he goes,
Sudden as that which by Creation rose.
Thus he appears to David, at first Sight
All Earth-bred Fears and Sorrows take their flight.
In rushes Joy Divine, and Hope, and Rest;
A Sacred Calm shines through his peaceful Breast.
Hail, Man belov'd! From highest Heav'n (said he)
My mighty Master sends thee Health by me.
The things thou saw'st are full of Truth and Light,
Shap'd in the Glass of the Divine Foresight.
Ev'n now old Time is harnessing the Years
To go in Order thus; hence empty Fears;
Thy Fate's all White; from thy blest Seed shall spring
The promis'd Shilo, the great Mystick King.
Round the whole Earth his dreaded Name shall sound,
And reach to Worlds, that must not yet be found;
The Southern Clime him her Sole Lord shall stile,
Him all the North, ev'n Albion's stubborn Isle,
My Fellow-Servant, credit what I tell:
Strait into shapeless Air unseen he fell.





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