Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, DAVIDEIS, A SACRED POEM OF THE TROUBLES OF DAVID: BOOK 4, by ABRAHAM COWLEY


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

DAVIDEIS, A SACRED POEM OF THE TROUBLES OF DAVID: BOOK 4, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Tho' state and kind discourse thus robb'd the night
Last Line: Well-chosen and well-furnish'd for the chase.
Subject(s): David (d. 962 B.c.); Israel; Jonathan (bible); Saul (11th Century B.c.)


THO' State and kind Discourse thus robb'd the Night
Of half her natural and more just Delight,
Moab, whom Temp'rance did still vig'rous keep,
And Regal Cares had us'd to mod'rate Sleep,
Up with the Sun arose, and having thrice
With lifted Hands bow'd towards his shining Rise,
And thrice tow'ards Phegor, his Baal's holiest Hill,
(With good and pious Pray'rs directed ill)
Call'd to the Chase his Friends, who for him stay'd;
The glad Dogs barkt, the chearful Horses neigh'd.
Moab his Chariot mounts, drawn by four Steeds,
The best and noblest that fresh Zerith breeds,
All white as Snow, and sprightful as the Light,
With Scarlet trapp'd, and foaming Gold they bite.
He into it young David with him took,
Did with Respect and Wonder on him look,
Since last Night's Story, and with greedier Ear,
The Man, of whom so much he heard, did hear.
The well-born Youth of all his flourishing Court
March gay behind, and joyful to the Sport,
Some arm'd with Bows, some with strait Jav'lins ride;
Rich Swords and gilded Quivers grace their Side.
Midst the fair Troop David's tall Brethren rode,
And Joab comely as a fancy'd God;
They entertain'd th' attentive Moab Lords,
With loose and various Talk that Chance affords,
Whilst they pac'd slowly on; but the wise King
Did David's Tongue to weightier Subjects bring.
Much (said the King) much I to Joab owe,
For the fair Picture drawn by him of you.
'Twas drawn in little, but did Acts express
So great, that largest Histories are less.
I see (methinks) the Gathian Monster still,
His Shape last Night my mindful Dreams did fill.
Strange Tyrant Saul, with Envy to pursue
The Praise of Deeds, whence his own Safety grew!
I've heard (but who can think it?) that his Son
Has his Life's Hazard for your Friendship run;
His matchless Son, whose Worth (if Fame be true)
Lifts him 'above all his Countrymen but you,
With whom it makes him One: Low David bows,
But no Reply Moab's swift Tongue allows.
And pray, kind Guest, whilst we ride thus (says he)
(To gameful Nebo still three Leagues there be)
The Story of your Royal Friend relate,
And his ungovern'd Sire's imperious Fate:
Why your great State that nameless Fam'ily chose,
And by what Steps to Israel's Throne they rose.
He staid; and David thus; From Egypt's Land
You've heard, Sir, by what strong, unarmed Hand
Our Fathers came; Moses their sacred Guide,
But he in Sight of the giv'n Country dy'd.
His fatal promis'd Canaan was on high;
And Joshua's Sword must th' active Rod supply.
It did so, and did Wonders.
From sacred Jordan to the Western Main,
From well-clad Lib'anus to the Southern Plain
Of naked Sands, his winged Conquests went;
And thirty Kings to Hell uncrown'd he sent.
Almost four hundred Years from him to Saul,
In too much Freedom pass'd, or foreign Thral.
Oft Strangers' Iron Scepters bruis'd the Land,
(Such still are those born by a Conqu'ring Hand)
Oft pity'ing God did well-form'd Spirits raise,
Fit for the toilsome Business of their Days,
To free the groaning Nation, and to give
Peace first, and then the Rules in Peace to live.
But they, whose Stamp of Pow'r did chiefly lye
In Characters, too fine for most Men's Eye,
Graces and Gifts Divine; not painted bright
With State to awe dull Minds, and Force t' affright,
Were ill obey'd whilst Living, and at Death,
Their Rules and Pattern vanish'd with their Breath.
The hungry Rich all near them did devour,
Their Judge was Appetite, and their Law was Pow'r.
Not Want it self could Luxury restrain,
For what that empty'd, Rapine fill'd again.
Robbery the Field, Oppression sack'd the Town;
What the Sword's Reaping spar'd, was glean'd by th' Gown.
At Courts, and Seats of Justice to complain,
Was to be robb'd more vexingly again.
Nor was their Lust less active or less bold,
Amidst this rougher Search of Blood and Gold.
Weak Beauties they corrupt, and force the strong;
The Pride of old Men that, and this of young.
You've heard perhaps, Sir, of leud Gibeah's Shame
Which Hebrew Tongues still tremble when they name,
Alarmed all by one fair Stranger's Eyes,
As to a sudden War the Town does rise
Shaking and pale, half dead e'er they begin
The strange and wanton Trag'edy of their Sin:
All their wild Lusts they force her to sustain,
'Till by Shame, Sorrow, Weariness, and Pain,
She midst their loath'd, and cruel Kindness dies;
Of monstrous Lust th' innocent Sacrifice.
This did ('tis true) a Civil War create,
(The frequent Curse of our loose-govern'd State)
All Gibeah's, and all Jabes Blood it cost;
Near a whole Tribe, and future Kings we lost.
Firm in this general Earthquake of the Land,
How could Religion, its main Pillar, stand?
Proud, and fond Man, his Fathers' Worship hates,
Himself, God's Creature, his own God creates.
Hence in each Houshold sev'ral Deities grew,
And when no old one pleas'd, they fram'd a new.
The only Land which serv'd but One before,
Did th' only then all Nations' Gods adore.
They serv'd their Gods at first, and soon their Kings;
Their choice of that this latter Slav'ry brings.
'Till special Men, arm'd with God's Warrant, broke
By justest Force th' unjustly forced Yoke.
All matchless Persons, and thrice worthy they
Of Power more great, or Lands more apt t' obey.
At last the Priesthood join'd in Ith'amar's Son,
More Weight and Lustre to the Scepter won.
But whilst mild Ely, and good Samuel were
Busy'd with Age, and th' Altar's Sacred Care;
To their wild Sons they their high Charge commit,
Who 'expose to Scorn and Hate both them and it.
Ely's curs'd House th' exemplar Vengeance bears
Of all their Blood, and all sad Isra'el's Tears.
His Sons abroad, Himself at home lyes slain,
Israel's captiv'd, God's Ark and Law are ta'en.
Thus twice are Nations by ill Princes vex'd,
They suffer By them first, and For them next.
Samuel succeeds; since Moses, none before,
So much of God in his bright Bosom bore.
In vain our Arms Philistian Tyrants seis'd;
Heav'n's Magazines he open'd when he pleas'd.
He Rains and Winds for Auxil'iaries brought,
He muster'd Flames and Thunders when he fought.
Thus thirty Years, with strong and steddy Hand,
He held th' unshaken Ballance of the Land.
At last his Sons th' indulgent Father chose,
To share that State which they were born to lose.
Their hateful Acts that Change's Birth did haste,
Which had long Growth i' th' Womb of Ages past.
To this (for still were some great Periods set,
There's a strong Knot of sev'ral Causes met)
The Threats concurr'd of a rough neighb'ring War;
A mighty Storm long gath'ring from afar.
For Ammon, heighten'd with mix'd Nations' Aid,
Like Torrents swoln with Rain prepar'd the Land t'invade.
Samuel was old, and by his Sons' ill Choice,
Turn'd Dotard in th' unskilful Vulgar's Voice.
His Sons so scorn'd and hated, that the Land
Nor hop'd nor wish'd a Vict'ry from their Hand:
These were the just and faultless Causes, why
The general Voice did for a Monarch cry.
But God ill Grains did in this Incense smell,
Wrapp'd in fair Leaves he saw the Canker dwell.
A mut'inous Itch of Change, a dull Despair
Of Helps divine, oft prov'd; a faithless Care
Of Common Means; the Pride of Heart, and Scorn
Of th' humble Yoke under low Judges born.
They saw the State and glittering Pomp, which blest,
In vulgar Sense, the Scepters of the East.
They saw not Pow'r's true Source, and scorn'd t' obey
Persons that look'd no dreadfuller than they.
They miss'd Courts, Guards, a gay and num'rous Train;
Our Judges, like their Laws, were rude and plain.
On an old Bench of Wood, her Seat of State,
Beneath the well-known Palm, Wise Deborah sate,
Her Maids with comely Dil'igence round her spun,
And she too, when the Pleadings there were done:
With the same Goad Samgar his Oxen drives,
Which took, the Sun before, six hundred Lives
From his sham'd Foes; he midst his Work dealt Laws;
And oft was his Plough stopp'd to hear a Cause.
Nor did great Gid'eon his old Flail disdain,
After won Fields, sackt Towns, and Princes slain.
His Scepter that, and Ophra's Threshing Floor
The Seat and Emblem of his Justice bore.
What should I Jair, the happiest Father, name?
Or mournful Jephta known no less to Fame,
For the most wretched? Both at once did keep
The mighty Flocks of Isra'el and their Sheep.
Oft from the Field in haste they summon'd were,
Some weighty foreign Embassie to hear,
They call'd their slaves, their Sons, and Friends around,
Who all at sev'ral Cares were scatter'd found,
They wash'd their Feet, their only Gown put on;
And this chief Work of Cer'emony was done.
These Reasons, and all else that could be said,
In a ripe Hour by factious Eloquence spread
Through all the Tribes, made all desire a King;
And to their Judge selected Dep'uties bring
This harsh Demand; which Nacol for ths rest
(A bold and artful Mouth) thus with much Grace express'd.
We're come, most sacred Judge, to pay th' Arrears,
Of much-ow'd Thanks, for the bright thirty Years,
Of your just Reign; and at your Feet to lay
All that our grateful Hearts can weakly pay,
In unproportion'd Words; for you alone
The not unfit Reward, who seek for none.
But when our forepast Ills we call to mind,
And sadly think how little's left behind
Of your important Life, whose sudden Date
Would disinherit th' unprovided State.
When we consider how unjust 'tis, you
Who ne'er of Power more than the Burden knew,
At once the Weight of that and Age should have;
Your stooping Days press'd doubly tow'rds the Grave.
When we behold by Ammon's youthful Rage,
Proud in th' Advantage of your peaceful Age,
And all th' united East, our Fall conspir'd;
And that your Sons, whom chiefly we desir'd
As Stamps of you, in your lov'd Room to place,
By unlike Acts that noble Stamp deface:
Midst these new Fears and Ills, we're forc'd to fly
To' a new, and yet unpractis'd Remedy;
A new one, but long promis'd and foretold,
By Moses, and to Abraham shown of old.
A Prophecy long forming in the Womb
Of teeming Years, and now to Ripeness come.
This Remedy's a King; for this we all
With an inspir'd, and zealous Union call.
And in one Sound when all Men's Voices join,
The Musick's tun'd (no doubt) by Hand Divine.
'Tis God alone speaks a whole Nation's Voice;
That is his Publick Language; but the Choice
Of what Peculiar Head that Crown must bear,
From you, who his Peculiar Organ are,
We' expect to hear; the People shall to you
Their King, the King his Crown and People owe.
To your great Name what Lustre will it bring
T' have been our Judge, and to have made our King!
He bow'd, and ended here; and Samuel straight
Pausing a while at this great Question's Weight,
With a grave Sigh, and with a thoughtful Eye
That more of Care than Passion did descry,
Calmly replies: You're sure the first (says he)
Of free-born Men that begg'd for Slavery.
I fear, my Friends, with heav'nly Manna fed,
(Our old Forefathers' Crime) we lust for Bread.
Long since by God from Bondage drawn, I fear,
We build anew th' Egyptian Brick-kiln here.
Cheat not your selves with Words: for though a King
Be the mild Name, a Tyrant is the Thing.
Let his Power loose, and you shall quickly see
How mild a thing unbounded Man will be.
He'll lead you forth your Hearts' cheap Blood to spill,
Where-e'er his Guidless Passion leads his Will.
Ambition, Lust, or Spleen his Wars will raise,
Your Lives' best Price, his Thirst of Wealth or Praise.
Your ablest Sons for his proud Guards he'll take,
And by such Hands your Yoke more grievous make.
Your Daughters and dear Wives he'll force away,
His Lux'ury some, and some his Lust t' obey.
His Idle Friends your hungry Toils shall eat,
Drink your rich Wines, mix'd with your Blood and Sweat.
Then you'll all sigh, but Sighs will Treasons be;
And not your Griefs themselves, or Looks be free.
Robb'd even of Hopes, when you these Ills sustain,
Your watry Eyes you'll then turn back in vain,
On your old Judges, and perhaps on me,
Nay ev'n my Sons, howe'er they 'unhappy be
In your Displeasure now; not that I'd clear
Their Guilt, or mine own Innocence indear,
Witness th' unutterable Name, there's nought
Of private Ends into this Question brought.
But why this Yoke on your own Necks to draw?
Why Man your God, and Passion made your Law?
Methinks (thus Moab interrupts him here)
The good old Seer 'gainst Kings was too severe.
'Tis Jest to tell a People that they're Free;
Who, or how many shall their Masters be,
Is the sole Doubt; Laws guide, but cannot reign;
And though they bind not Kings, yet they restrain.
I dare affirm (so much I trust their Love)
That no one Moabite would his Speech approve.
But, pray go on. 'Tis true, Sir, he replies;
Yet Men whom Age and Action renders wise,
So much great Changes fear, that they believe,
All Evils will, which may from them arrive.
On Men resolv'd these Threats were spent in vain,
All that his Power or El'oquence could obtain,
Was to enquire God's Will, e'er they proceed
To 'a Work that would so much his Blessing need.
A solemn Day for this great Work is set,
And at th' Anointed Tent all Israel met
Expect th' Event; below fair Bullocks fry
In hallowed Flames; above, there mount on high
The precious Clouds of Incense, and at last
The Sprinkling, Pray'rs, and all due Honours past.
Lo! we the sacred Bells o' th' sudden hear,
And in mild Pomp grave Samuel does appear.
His Ephod, Mitre, well-cut Diadem on,
Th' Orac'ulous Stones on his rich Breast-plate shone.
Tow'ards the Blue Curtains of God's holiest Place
(The Temple's bright third Heav'n) he turn'd his Face.
Thrice bow'd he, thrice the solemn Musick plaid,
And at third Rest thus the great Prophet pray'd:
Almighty God, to whom all Men that be
Owe all they have, yet none so much as we;
Who though thou fill'st the spacious World alone,
Thy too small Court, hast made this Place thy Throne.
With humble Knees, and humbler Hearts, lo, here,
Blest Abra'ham's Seed implores thy gracious Ear.
Hear them, great God, and thy just Will inspire;
From thee, their long-known King, they' a King desire.
Some gracious Signs of thy good Pleasure send,
Which, lo, with Souls resign'd we humbly here attend.
He spoke, and thrice he bow'd, and all about
Silence and reverend Horror seiz'd the Rout.
The whole Tent shakes, the Flames on th' Altar by,
In thick dull Rolls mount slow and heavily.
The seven Lamps wink; and what does most dismay,
Th' Orac'ulous Gems shut in their nat'ural Day.
The Ruby's Cheek grew Pale, the Em'raud by
Faded, a Cloud o'ercast the Saphir's Sky.
The Di'amond's Eye look'd sleepy, and swift Night
Of all those little Suns Eclips'd the Light.
Sad Signs of God's dread Anger for our Sin,
But strait a wondrous Brightness from within
Strook through the Curtains, for no earthly Cloud
Could those strong Beams of heav'nly Glory shroud.
The Altar's Fire burnt pure, and every Stone
Their radiant Parent the gay Sun out-shone.
Beauty th' Illustrious Vision did impart
To ev'ry Face, and Joy to ev'ry Heart.
In glad Effects God's Presence thus appear'd,
And thus in wondrous Sounds his Voice was heard:
This stubborn Land sins still, nor is it thee, but us
(Who have been so long their King) they seek to cast off thus.
Five hundred rolling Years, hath this stiff Nation strove,
To 'exhaust the boundless Stores, of our unfathom'd Love.
Be 't so then; yet, once more, are we resolv'd to try
T' outweary them through all their Sin's Variety.
assemble, ten Days hence, the num'rous People here;
To draw the Royal Lot which our hid Mark shall bear.
Dismiss them now in Peace; but their next Crime shall bring
Ruin without redress, on them,, and on their King.
Th' Almighty spoke; th' astonish'd People part,
With various Stamps impress'd on ev'ry Heart.
Some their Demand repented, others prais'd,
Some had no Thoughts at all, but star'd and gaz'd.
There dwelt a Man, nam'd Kis in Gib'eah Town,
For Wisdom much, and much for Courage known.
More for his Son, his mighty Son was Saul,
Whom Nature, e'er the Lots, to' a Throne did call.
He was much Prince, and when, or wheresoe'er
His Birth had been, then had he reign'd and there.
Such Beauty as great Strength thinks no Disgrace,
Smil'd in the manly Features of his Face.
His large black Eyes, fill'd with a sprightful Light,
Shot forth such lively and illustrious Night,
As the Sun Beams, on Jet reflecting show,
His Hair, as Black, in long curl'd Waves did flow.
His tall, strait Body, amidst thousands stood,
Like some fair Pine o'erlooking all th' ignobler Wood.
Of all our Rural Sports he was the Pride;
So swift, so strong, so dextrous none beside.
Rest was his Toil, Labours his Lust and Game;
No nat'ural Wants could his fierce Dil'igence tame,
Not Thirst, nor Hunger; he would Journies go
Through raging Heats, and take Repose in Snow.
His Soul was ne'er unbent from weighty Care;
But active as some Mind that turns a Sphere.
His Way once chose, he forward thrust outright,
Nor stepp'd aside for Dangers or Delight.
Yet was he wise all Dangers to foresee;
But born t' affright, and not to fear was he.
His Wit was strong, not fine; and on his Tongue,
An Artless Grace, above all Elo'quence, hung.
These Virtues too the Rich unusual Dress
Of Modesty, adorn'd, and Humbleness.
Like a clear Varnish o'er fair Pictures laid,
More fresh and lasting they the Colours made.
'Till Power and violent Fortune, which did find
No Stop or Bound, o'erwhelm'd no less his Mind,
Did, Deluge-like, the nat'ural Forms deface,
And brought forth unknown Monsters in their Place.
Forbid it God, my Master's Spots should be,
Were they not seen by all, disclos'd by me!
But such he was; and now to Ramah went
(So God dispos'd) with a strange, low Intent.
Great God! He went lost Asses to enquire,
And a small Present his small Question's Hire,
Brought simply with him, to that Man to give,
From whom high Heav'n's chief Gifts he must receive
Strange Play of Fate! When mighty'st Human things
Hang on such small, imperceptible Strings!
'Twas Samuel's Birth-Day, a glad Ann'ual Feast
All Rama kept; Samuel his wondring Guest
With such Respect leads to it, and does grace
With the choice Meats o' th' Feast, and highest Place.
Which done, him forth alone the Prophet brings,
And feasts his ravish'd Ears with nobler things.
He tells the mighty Fate to him assign'd,
And with great Rules fills his capacious Mind.
Then takes the Sacred Viol, and does shed
A Crown of mystique Drops around his Head.
Drops of that Royal Moisture, which does know
No Mixture, and disdains the Place below.
Soon comes the kingly Day, and with it brings
A new Account of Time upon his Wings.
The People met, the Rites and Pray'rs all past,
Behold, the Heav'n Instructed-Lot is cast.
'Tis taught by Heav'n its way, and cannot miss;
Forth Benjamin, forth leaps the House of Kis.
As glimm'ring Stars just at th' approach of Day,
Casheer'd by Troops, at last drop all away,
By such Degrees all Men's bright Hopes are gone,
And, like the Sun, Saul's Lot shines all alone.
Ev'n here perhaps the People's Shout was heard,
The loud long Shout when God's fair Choice appear'd.
Above the whole vast Throng he' appear'd so tall,
As if by Nature made for th' Head of all.
So full of Grace and State, that one might know,
'Twas some wise Eye the blind Lot guided so.
But blind unguided Lots have more of Choice,
And Constancy, than the slight Vulgar's Voice.
E'er yet the Crown of Sacred Oil is dry,
Whil'st Ecchoes yet preserve the joyful Cry,
Some grow enrag'd their own vain Hopes to miss,
Some envy Saul, some scorn the House of Kis.
Some their first mut'inous Wish, a King, repent,
As if, since that, quite spil'd by God's Consent.
Few to this Prince their first just Duties pay;
All leave the Old, but few the new obey.
Thus changes Man, but God is constant still
To those eternal Grounds, that mov'd his Will.
And though he yielded first to them, 'tis fit,
That stubborn Men at last to him submit.
As midst the Main a low small Island lyes,
Assaulted round with stormy Seas and Skies,
Whilst the poor heartless Natives, ev'ry Hour,
Darkness and Noise seems ready to devour:
Such Israel's State appear'd, whilst o'er the West
Philistian Clouds hung threatning, and from th' East
All Nations' Wrath into one Tempest joins,
Through which proud Nahas like fierce Lightning shines.
Tygris and Nile to his Assistance send,
And Waters to swoln Jaboc's Torrent lend.
Seir, Edom, Saba, Amalec add their Force,
Up with them march the Three Arabia's Horse.
And 'mongst all these none more their Hope or Pride,
Then those few Troops your warlike Land supply'd.
Around weak Jabes this vast Host does lye,
Disdains a dry and bloodless Victory.
The hopeless Town for Slav'ry does intreat,
But barb'rous Nahas thinks that Grace too great.
He (his first Tribute) their right Eyes demands,
And with their Faces' Shame disarms their Hands.
If unreliev'd seven Days by Israel's Aid,
This Bargain for o'er-rated Life is made.
Ah, mighty God, let thine own Israel be
Quite blind it self, e'er this Reproach it see!
By 'his wanton People the new King forsook,
To homely rural Cares himself betook.
In private Plenty liv'd without the State,
Lustre, and Noise, due to a publick Fate.
Whilst he his Slaves and Cattle follows home,
Lo the sad Messengers from Jabes come,
Implore his Help, and weep as if they meant
That way at least proud Nahas to prevent.
Mov'd with a Kingly Wrath, his strict Command
He issues forth t' assemble all the Land.
He threatens high, and disobedient they,
Wak'd by such Princely Terrors, learnt t' obey.
A mighty Host is raised; th' important Cause
Age from their Rest, Youth, from their Pleasure draws.
Arm'd as unfurnish'd haste could them provide,
But Conduct, Courage, Anger that supply'd.
All Night they march, and are at th' early Dawn
On Jabes Heath in three fair Bodies drawn.
Saul did himself the first and strongest Band,
His Son the next, Abner the third Command.
But pardon, Sir, if naming Saul's great Son,
I stop with him a while e'er I go on.
This is that Jonathan, the Joy and Grace,
The beautiful'st, and best of Human Race.
That Jonathan, in whom does mixt remain,
All that kind Mothers' Wishes can contain.
His Courage such, as it no Stop can know,
And Vict'ry gains by 'astonishing the Foe.
With Lightning's Force his Enemies it confounds,
And melts their Hearts e'er it the Bosom wounds.
Yet he the Conquer'd with such Sweetness gains,
As Captive Lovers find in Beauty's Chains.
In War the adverse Troops he does assail,
Like an impet'uous Storm of Wind and Hail.
In Peace, like gentlest Dew, that does asswage
The burning Months, and temper Syrius' Rage.
Kind as the Sun's blest Influence; and where-e'er
He comes, Plenty and Joy attend him there.
To Help seems all his Power, his Wealth to Give;
To do much Good his sole Prerogative.
And yet this gen'ral Bounty of his Mind,
That with wide Arms embraces all Mankind,
Such artful Prudence does to each divide,
With diff'rent Measures all are satisfy'd.
Just as wise God his plenteous Manna dealt,
Some gather'd more, but Want by none was felt.
To all Relations their just Rights he pays,
And Worth's Reward above its Claim does raise.
The tendrest Husband, Master, Father, Son,
And all those Parts by 'his Friendship far out-done.
His Love to Friends no Bound or Rule does know,
What he to Heav'n, all that to him they owe.
Keen as his Sword, and pointed is his Wit:
His Judgment, like best Armour, strong and fit.
And such an El'oquence to both these does join,
As makes in both Beauty and Use combine.
Through which a noble Tincture does appear
By Learning and choice Books imprinted there.
As well he knows all Times and Persons gone,
As he himself to th' future shall be known.
But his chief Study is God's sacred Law;
And all his Life does Comments on it draw.
As never more by Heav'n to Man was giv'n,
So never more was paid by Man to Heav'n.
And all these Virtues were to Ripeness grown,
E'er yet his Flower of Youth was fully blown.
All Autumn's Store did his rich Spring adorn;
Like Tress in Par'adice he with Fruit was born.
Such is his Soul; and if, as some Men tell,
Souls form and build those Mansions where they dwell;
Whoe'er but sees his Body must confess,
The Architect no doubt, could be no less.
From Saul his Growth and Manly Strength he took,
Chastis'd by bright Ahino'am's gentler Look.
Not bright Ahino'am, Beauty's loudest Name,
'Till she to' her Children lost with Joy her Fame,
Had sweeter Strokes, Colours more fresh and fair,
More darting Eyes, or lovelier auborn Hair.
Forgive me that I thus your Patience wrong,
And on this boundless Subject stay so long.
Where too much haste ever to end't would be,
Did not his Acts speak what's untold by me.
Tho' from the time his Hands a Sword could wield,
He ne'er miss'd Fame and Danger in the Field.
Yet this was the first Day that call'd him forth,
Since Saul's bright Crown gave Lustre to his Worth.
'Twas the last Morning whose unchearful Rise,
Sad Jabes was to view with both their Eyes.
Secure proud Nahas slept as in his Court,
And dreamt, vain Man! of that Day's barb'rous Sport,
'Till Noise and dreadful Tumults him awoke:
'Till into 'his Camp our vi'olent Army broke.
The careless Guards with small Resistance kill'd,
Slaughter the Camp, and wild Confusion fill'd.
Nahas his fatal Duty does perform,
And marches boldly up t' outface the Storm.
Fierce Jonathan he meets, as he pursues
Th' Arabian Horse, and a hot Fight renews.
'Twas here your Troops behav'd themselves so well,
'Till Uz and Jathan their stout Col'onels fell.
'Twas here our Vict'ry stopp'd, and gave us Cause
Much to suspect th' Intention of her Pause.
But when our thundring Prince Nahas espy'd,
Who with a Courage equal to his Pride
Broke thro' our Troops, and tow'rds him boldly prest,
A gen'rous Joy leap'd in his youthful Breast.
As when a wrathful Dragon's dismal Light,
Strikes suddenly some warlike Eagle's Sight.
The mighty Foe pleases his fearless Eyes,
He claps his joyful Wings, and at him flies.
With vain tho' vi'olent Force, their Darts they flung;
In Ammon's plated Belt Jonathan's hung,
And stopp'd there; Ammon did his Helmet hit,
And gliding off, bore the proud Crest from it.
Strait with their Swords to the fierce Shock they came,
Their Swords, their Armour, and their Eyes shot Flame.
Blows strong as Thunder, thick as Rain they dealt;
Which more than they th' engag'd Spectators felt.
In Ammon Force, in Jonathan Address,
(Tho' both were great in both to an Excess)
To the well-judging Eye did most appear;
Honour, and Anger in both equal were.
Two Wounds our Prince receiv'd, and Ammon three;
Which he enrag'd to feel, and 'sham'd to see,
Did his whole strength into one Blow collect;
And as a Spani'el when we' our Aim direct
To shoot some Bird, impatiently stands by,
Shaking his Tail, ready with Joy to fly,
Just as it drops, upon the wounded Prey;
So waited Death it self, to bear away
The threaten'd Life; did glad and greedy stand,
At Sight of mighty Ammon's lifted Hand.
Our watchful Prince by bending sav'd the Wound,
But Death in other Coin his Reck'ning found:
For whilst th' immod'rate Stroke's miscarry'ing Force
Had almost born the Striker from his Horse,
A nimble Thrust his active Ene'my made,
'Twixt his right Ribs deep pierc'd the furious Blade,
And open'd wide those secret Vessels, where
Life's Light goes out, when first they let in Air.
He falls, his Armour clanks against the Ground,
From his faint Tongue imperfect Curses sound.
His amaz'd Troops strait cast their Arms away;
Scarce fled his Soul from thence more swift than they.
As when two Kings of neighbour Hives (whom Rage
And Thirst of Empire in fierce Wars engage,
Whilst each lays Claim to th' Garden as his own,
And seeks t'usurp the bord'ring Flowers alone)
Their well-arm'd Troops drawn boldly forth to fight,
In th' Air's wide Plain dispute their doubtful Right.
If by sad Chance of Battel, either King
Fall wounded down, strook with some fatal Sting,
His Armies' Hopes and Courage with him die;
They sheath up their faint Swords, and routed fly.
On th' other Sides at once, with like Success,
Into the Camp great Saul and Abner press;
From Jon'athan's Part a wild mix'd Noise they hear,
And, whatsoe'er it mean, long to be there.
At the same Instant from glad Jabes Town,
The hasty Troops march loud and chearful down.
Some few at first with vain Resistance fall,
The rest is Slaughter, and vast Conquest all.
The Fate, by which our Host thus far had gone,
Our Host with noble Heat drove farther on.
Victorious Arms through Ammon's Land it bore;
Ruin behind, and Terror march'd before.
Where-e'er from Rabba's Tow'rs they cast their Sight,
Smoak clouds the Day, and Flames make clear the Night.
This bright Success did Saul's first Action bring,
The Oil, the Lot, and Crown less crown'd him King.
The Happy all Men judge for Empire fit,
And none withstands where Fortune does submit.
Those who before did God's fair Choice withstand,
Th' excessive Vulgar now to Death demand.
But wiser Saul repeal'd their hasty Doom;
Conquest abroad, with Mercy crown'd at home.
Nor stain'd with civil Slaughter that Day's Pride,
Which foreign Blood in nobler Purple dy'd.
Again the Crown th' assembled People give,
With greater Joy than Saul could it receive.
Again th' old Judge resigns his sacred Place,
God glorify'd with Wonders his Disgrace.
With decent Pride, such as did well befit
The Name he kept, and that which he did quit.
The long-past Row of happy Years he show'd,
Which to his heav'nly Government they ow'd.
How the torn State his just and prudent Reign
Restor'd to Order, Plenty, Power again.
In War what conqu'ring Miracles he wrought;
God, then their King, was Gen'ral when they fought;
Whom they depos'd with him. And that (said he)
You may see God concern'd in 't more than me,
Behold how Storms his angry Presence shrowd,
Hark how his Wrath in Thunder threats aloud.
'Twas now the ripen'd Summer's highest Rage,
Which no faint Cloud durst mediate to asswage.
Th' Earth hot with Thirst, and hot with Lust for Rain,
Gap'd, and breath'd feeble Vapours up in vain,
Which strait were scatter'd, or devour'd by th' Sun;
When, lo, e'er scarce the active Speech was done,
A vi'olent Wind rose from his secret Cave,
And Troops of frighted Clouds before it drave.
Whilst with rude haste the confus'd Tempest crouds,
Swift dreadful Flames shot through th' encountring Clouds;
From whose torn Womb th' imprison'd Thunder broke,
And in dire Sounds the Prophet's Sense it spoke.
Such an impetuous Shower it downwards sent,
As if the Waters 'bove the Firmament
Were all let loose; Horrour and fearful Noise
Fill'd the black Scene, 'till the great Prophet's Voice,
Swift as the Wings of Morn, reduc'd the Day;
Wind, Thunder, Rain, and Clouds fled all at once away.
Fear not (said he) God his fierce Wrath removes,
And though this State my Service disapproves,
My Prayers shall serve it constantly. No more,
I hope, a Pardon for past Sins t' implore,
But just Rewards from gracious Heav'n to bring
On the good Deeds of you, and of our King.
Behold him there! and as you see, rejoice
In the kind Care of God's impartial Choice.
Behold his Beauty, Courage, Strength, and Wit!
The Honour Heav'n has cloath'd him with, sits fit
And comely on him; since you needs must be
Rul'd by a King, you're happy that 'tis he.
Obey him gladly, and let him too know
You were not made for him, but he for you,
And both for God;
Whose gentlest Yoke if once you cast away,
In vain shall he command, and you obey.
To foreign Tyrants both shall Slaves become,
Instead of King, and Subjects here at home.
The Crown thus sev'ral Ways confirm'd to Saul,
One way was wanting yet to crown them all;
And that was Force, which only can maintain
The Power that Fortune gives, or Worth does gain.
Three thousand Guards of big, bold Men he took;
Tall, terrible, and Guards ev'n with their Look;
His sacred Person two, and Throne defend,
The third on matchless Jonathan attend.
O'er whose full Thoughts, Honour, and youthful Heat,
Sate brooding to hatch Actions good and great.
On Geba first, where a Philistian Band
Lyes, and around torments the fetter'd Land,
He falls, and slaughters all; his noble Rage
Mix'd with Design, his Nation to engage
In that just War, which from them long in vain,
Honour and Freedom's Voice had strove t' obtain.
Th' accurs'd Philistian rous'd with this bold Blow,
All the proud Marks of enrag'd Power does show.
Raises a vast, well-arm'd, and glittering Host,
If human Strength might authorize a Boast,
Their Threats had reason here; for ne'er did we
Our selves so weak, our Foe so potent see.
Here we vast Bodies of their Foot espy,
The Rear out-reaches far th' extended Eye.
Like Fields of Corn their armed Squadrons stand;
As thick and numberless they hide the Land.
Here with sharp Neighs the warlike Horses sound;
And with proud Prancings beat the putrid Ground.
Here with worse Noise three thousand Chariots pass,
With Plates of Iron bound, or louder Brass.
About it Forks, Axes, and Sithes, and Spears,
Whole Magazines of Death each Chariot bears.
Where it breaks in, there a whole Troop it mows,
And with lopp'd panting Limbs the Field bestrows.
Alike the Valiant, and the Cowards die;
Neither can they resist, nor can these fly.
In this proud Equipage at Micmas they,
Saul in much different State at Gilgal lay.
His Forces seem'd no Army, but a Croud,
Heartless, unarm'd, disorderly, and loud.
The quick Contagion Fear, ran swift through all,
And into trembling Fits th' infected fall.
Saul, and his Son (for no such faint Disease
Could on their strong-complexion'd Valour seise)
In vain all Parts of virtuous Conduct show'd,
And on deaf Terror gen'rous Words bestow'd,
Thousands from thence fly scatter'd ev'ry Day,
Thick as the Leaves that shake and drop away,
When they th' Approach of stormy Winter find,
The noble Tree all bare, expos'd to th' Wind.
Some to sad Jordan fly, and swim 't for haste,
And from his father Bank look back at last.
Some into Woods and Caves their Cattle drive,
There with their Beasts on equal Terms they live,
Nor deserve better; some in Rocks on high,
The old Retreats of Storks and Ravens, lye.
And were they wing'd like them, scarce would they dare
To stay, or trust their frighted Safety there.
As th' Host with Fear, so Saul distrub'd with Care,
T' avert these Ills by Sacrifice and Pray'r
And God's bless'd Will t' enquire, for Samuel sends;
Whom he six Days with troubled Haste attends.
But e'er the seventh unlucky Day (the last
By Samuel set for this great Work) was past,
Saul, alarm'd hourly from the neighb'ring Foe,
Impatient, e'er God's Time, God's Mind to know,
'Sham'd and enrag'd to see his Troops decay,
Jealous of an Affront in Samuel's Stay,
Scorning that any's Presence should appear
Needful besides, when he himself was there;
And, with a Pride too nat'ural, thinking Heav'n
Had given him all, because much Power 't had giv'n,
Himself the Sacrifice and Off'rings made,
Himself did th' high selected Charge invade,
Himself inquir'd of God; who then spake nought;
But Samuel straight his dreadful Answer brought.
For straight he came, and with a Virtue bold,
As was Saul's Sin, the fatal Message told.
His foul Ingratitude to Heav'n he child,
To pluck that Fruit which was alone forbid
To Kingly Power, in all that plenteous Land,
Where all things else submit to his Command.
And as fair Eden's violated Tree,
To' Immortal Man brought in Mortality:
So shall that Crown, which God eternal meant,
From thee (said he) and thy great House be rent,
Thy Crime shall Death to all thine Honours send,
And give thy' Immortal Royalty an End.
Thus spoke the Prophet, but kind Heav'n (we hope)
(Whose Threats and Anger know no other Scope
But Man's Amendment) does long since relent,
And with repentant Saul it self repent.
Howe'er (though none more pray for this than we,
Whose Wrongs and Sufferings might some Colour be
To do it less) this Speech we sadly find
Still extant, and still active in his Mind.
But when a worse Effect of it appear'd,
Our Army which before modestly fear'd,
Which did by stealth and by degrees decay,
Disbanded now, and fled in Troops away.
Base Fear so bold and impudent does grow,
When an excuse and Colour it can show.
Six hundred only (scarce a Princely Train)
Of all his Host with distress'd Saul remain,
Of his whole Host six hundred; and ev'n those
(So did wise Heav'n for mighty Ends dispose,
Nor would, that useless Multitudes should share
In that great Gift, it did for One prepare)
Arm'd not like Soldiers marching in a War,
But Country-Hinds alarmed from afar
By Wolves' loud Hunger, when the well-known Sound
Raises th' affrighted Villages around.
Some Goads, Flails, Plow-shares, Forks, or Axes bore,
Made for Life's Use and better Ends before,
Some knotted Clubs, and Darts, or Arrows dry'd
I' th' Fire, the first rude Arts that Malice try'd,
E'er Man the Sins of too much Knowledge knew,
And Death by long Experience witty grew.
Such were the Numbers, such the Arms, which we
Had by Fate left us for a Victory,
O'er well-arm'd Millions; nor will this appear
Useful it self, when Jonathan was there.
'Twas just the time, when the new Ebb of Night
Did the moist World unveil to human Sight.
The Prince, who all that Night the Field had beat
With a small Party, and no En'emy met,
(So proud and so secure the En'emy lay,
And drench'd in Sleep th' Excesses of the Day)
With Joy this good Occasion did embrace,
With better Leisure, and at nearer Space,
The Strength and Order of their Camp to view;
Abdon alone his gen'rous Purpose knew;
Abdon, a bold, a brave, and comely Youth,
Well-born, well-bred, with Honour fill'd and Truth,
Abdon his faithful Squire, whom much he lov'd,
And oft with Grief his Worth in Dangers prov'd.
Abdon, whose Love to' his Master did exceed
What Nature's Law, or Passion's Pow'r could breed,
Abdon alone did on him now attend;
His humblest Servant, and his dearest Friend.
They went, but sacred Fury as they went,
Chang'd swiftly, and exalted his Intent.
What may this be (the Prince breaks out) I find,
God or some pow'rful Spirit invades my Mind.
From ought but Heav'n can never sure be brought
So high, so glorious, and so vast a Thought.
For would ill Fate that meant me to surprise,
Come cloath'd in so unlikely a Disguise.
Yon Host, which its proud Fishes spreads so wide,
O'er the whole Land, like some swoln River's Tide,
Which terrible and numberless appears,
As the thick Waves which their rough Ocean bears,
Which lyes so strongly 'encamp'd, that one would say
The Hill might be remov'd as soon as they,
We two alone must fight with, and defeat;
Thou'rt strook, and startest at a Sound so great.
Yet we must do 't; God our weak Hands has chose
T' ashame the boasted Numbers of our Foes,
Which to his Strength no more proportion'd be,
Than Millions are of Hours to his Eternity.
If when their careless Guards espy us here,
With sportful Scorn they call to 'us to come near,
We'll boldly climb the Hill, and charge them all;
Not they, but Israel's Angel gives the Call.
He spoke, and as he spoke, a Light Divine
Did from his Eyes, and round his Temples shine,
Louder his Voice, larger his Limbs appear'd;
Less seem'd the num'rous Army to be fear'd.
This saw, and heard with Joy the Brave Esquire,
As he with Gods, fill'd with his Master's Fire.
Forbid it Heav'n (said he) I should decline,
Or wish (Sir) not to make your Danger mine.
The great Example which I daily see
Of your high Worth, is not so lost on me;
If Wonder-strook I at your Words appear,
My Wonder yet is Innocent of Fear.
Th' Honour which does your Princely Breast enflame,
Warms mine too, and joins there with Duty's Name.
If in this Act ill Fate our Tempter be,
May all the Ill it means be aim'd at me.
But sure, I think, God leads, nor could you bring
So high Thoughts from a less exalted Spring.
Bright Signs through all your Words and Looks are spread,
A rising Vict'ory dawns around your Head.
With such Discourse blowing their Sacred Flame,
Lo to the fatal Place and Work they came.
Strongly encamp'd on a steep Hill's large Head,
Like some vast Wood the mighty Host was spread.
Th' only 'Access on neighb'ring Gabaa's Side,
An hard and narrow Way, which did divide
Two cliffy Rocks, Boses and Senes mam'd,
Much for themselves, and their big Strangeness fam'd,
More for their Fortune, and this stranger Day;
On both their Points Philistian Out-guards lay,
From whence the two bold Spies they first espy'd;
And, lo! the Hebrews! proud Elcanor cry'd,
From Senes' Top; Lo! from their hungry Caves
A quicker Fate here sends them to their Graves.
Come up (aloud he cries to them below)
Ye' Egyptian Slaves, and to our Mercy owe
The rebel Lives, long since to' our Justice due;
Scarce from his Lips the fatal Omen flew,
When th' inspir'd Prince did nimbly understand
God, and his Godlike Virtues high Command.
It call'd him up, and up the steep Ascent
With Pain and Labour, Haste and Joy they went.
Elcanor laugh'd to see them climb, and thought
His mighty Words th' affrighted Suppliants brought,
Did new Affronts to the great Hebrew Name,
(The barbarous!) in his wanton Fancy frame.
Short was his Sport; for swift as Thunder's Stroke
Rives the frail Trunk of some heav'n-threatning Oak,
The Prince's Sword did his proud Head divide;
The parted Scull hung down on either Side.
Just as he fell, his vengeful Steel he drew
Half way; no more the trembling Joints could do,
Which Abdon snatch'd, and dy'd it in the Blood
Of an amazed Wretch that next him stood.
Some close to Earth shaking and groveling lye,
Like Larks when they the Tyrant Hobby spy.
Some Wonder-strook stand fix'd; some fly, some arm
Wildly, at th' unintelligible Alarm.
Like the main Channel of an high-swoln Flood,
In vain by Dikes and broken Works withstood:
So Jonathan, once climb'd th' opposing Hill,
Does all around with Noise and Ruin fill;
Like some large Arm of which, another way
Abdon o'erflows; him too no Bank can stay.
With Cries th' affrighted Country flies before,
Behind the following Waters loudly roar.
Twenty at least slain on this Out-guard lye,
To th' adjoin'd Camp the rest distracted fly,
And ill mix'd Wonders tell, and into't bear,
Blind Terror, deaf Disorder, helpless Fear.
The Conqu'rors too press boldly in behind,
Doubling the wild Confusions which they find.
Hamgar at first, the Prince of Ashdod Town,
Chief 'mongst the Five in Riches and Renown,
And General then by Course, oppos'd their Way,
'Till drown'd in Death at Jonathan's Feet he lay,
And curs'd the Heav'ns for Rage, and bit the Ground;
His Life for ever spilt stain'd all the Grass around.
His Brother too, who virtuous haste did make
His Fortune to revenge, or to partake,
Falls grove'ling o'er his Trunk, on Mother Earth;
Death mix'd no less their Bloods than did their Birth.
Meanwhile the well-pleas'd Abdon's restless Sword
Dispatch'd the following Train t' attend their Lord.
On still o'er panting Corps great Jonathan led:
Hundreds before him fell, and Thousands fled.
Prodigious Prince! Which does most wondrous show,
Thy' Attempt, or thy Success! thy Fate, or thou!
Who durst alone that dreadful Host assail,
With purpose not to dye, but to prevail!
Infinite Numbers thee no more affright,
Than God, whose Unity is Infinite.
If Heav'n to men such mighty Thoughts would give,
What Breast but thine capacious to receive
The vast Infusion? or what Soul but thine
Durst have believ'd that Thought to be Divine?
Thou follow'dst Heav'n in the Design, and we
Find in the Act'twas Heav'n that follow'd thee.
Thou ledst on Angels, and that Sacred Band
(The De'itie's great Lieut' enant) didst command.
'Tis true, Sir, and no Figure, when I say
Angels themselves fought under him that Day.
Clouds with ripe Thunder charg'd some thither drew,
And some the dire Materials brought for new.
Hot Drops of Southern Showers (the Sweats of Death)
The Voice of Storms and winged Whirl-wind's Breath:
The Flames shot forth from fighting Dragons' Eyes,
The Smokes that from scorch'd Fevers' Ovens rise,
The reddest Fires with which sad Comets glow;
And Sodom's neighb'ring Lake did Spi'rits bestow
Of finest Sulphur; amongst which they put
Wrath, Fury, Horror, and all mingled shut
Into a cold moist Cloud, t'enflame it more;
And make th' enraged Prisoner louder roar.
Th' assembled Clouds burst o'er their Armies' Head;
Noise, Darkness, dismal Lightnings round them spread.
Another Spir'it, with a more potent Wand,
Than that which Nature fear'd in Moses Hand,
And went the way that pleas'd, the Mountain strook;
The Mountain felt it; the vast Mountain shook.
Through the wide Air another Angel flew
About their Host, and thick amongst them threw
Discord, Despair, Confusion, Fear, Mistake;
And all th' Ingredients that swift Ruin make.
The fertile Glebe requires no time to breed;
It quickens and receives at once the Seed.
One would have thought, this dismal Day t' have seen,
That Nature's self in her Death-pangs had been.
Such will the Face of that great Hour appear;
Such the distracted Sinner's conscious Fear.
In vain some few strive the wild Flight to stay;
In vain they threaten, and in vain they pray;
Unheard, unheeded, trodden down they lye,
Beneath the wretched Feet of Crouds that fly.
O'er their own Foot trampled the vi'olent Horse;
The guideless Chariots with impet'uous Course
Cut wide through both; and all their bloody way
Horses, and Men, torn, bruis'd, and mangled lay.
Some from the Rocks cast themselves down headlong;
The faint weak Passion grows so bold and strong,
To almost certain present Death they fly,
From a remote and causeless Fear to dye.
Much diffe'rent Error did some Troops possess;
And Madness that look'd better, though no less.
Their fellow Troops for th' entred Foe they take;
And Israel's War with mutual Slaughter make.
Mean while the King from Gabaa's Hill did view,
And hear the thickning Tumult, as it grew
Still great and loud; and though he knows not why
They fled, no more than they themselves that fly;
Yet by the Storms and Terrors of the Air,
Guesses some Vengeful Sp'rits working there;
Obeys the loud Occasion's Sacred Call,
And fiercely on the trembling Host does fall.
At the same time their Slaves and Prisoners rise;
Nor does their much-wish'd Liberty suffice
Without Revenge; the scatter'd Arms they seize,
And their proud Vengeance with the Memory please
Of who so lately bore them; all about,
From Rocks and Caves the Hebrews issue out
At the glad Noise; joy'd that their Foes had shown
A Fear, that drowns the Scandal of their own.
Still did the Prince midst all this Storm appear,
Still scatter'd Deaths and Terrors every where.
Still did he break, still blunt his wearied Swords;
Still Slaughter new Supplies to 'his Hand affords.
Where Troops yet stood, there still he hotly flew,
And 'till at last all fled, scorn'd to pursue.
All fled at last, but many in vain; for still
Th' insatiate Conqu'ror was more swift to kill
Than they to save their Lives. 'Till, lo! at last,
Nature, whose Power he had so long surpass'd,
Would yield no more, but to him stronger Foes,
Drought, Faintness, and fierce hunger did oppose.
Reeking all o'er in Dust, and Blood, and Sweat,
Burnt with the Sun's and violent Action's Heat,
'Gainst an old Oak his trembling Limbs he staid,
For some short Ease; Fate in th' old Oak had laid
Provisions up for his Relief; and lo!
The hollow Trunk did with bright Honey flow.
With timely Food his decay'd Sp'irits recruit;
Strong he returns, and fresh to the Pursuit,
His Strength and Sp'irits the Honey did restore;
But, oh, the bitter-sweet strange Poison bore!
Behold, Sir, and mark well the treach'rous Fate,
That does so close on Human Glories wait!
Behold the strong, and yet fantastick Net,
T'ensnare triumphant Virtue, darkly set!
Could it before (scarce can it since) be thought,
The Prince who had alone that Morning fought,
A Duel with an Host, had th' Host o'erthrown,
And threescore thousand Hands disarm'd with One;
Wash'd off his Country's Shame, and doubly dy'd
In Blood and Blushes the Philistian Pride,
Had sav'd and fix'd his Father's tott'ring Crown,
And the bright Gold new burnish'd with renown,
Should be e'er Night by's King and Father's Breath,
Without a fault, vow'd and condemn'd to Death?
Destin'd the bloody Sacrifice to be
Of Thanks himself for his own Victory?
Alone with various Fate like to become,
Fighting, an Host; Dying, an Hecatombe?
Yet such, Sir, was his Case.
For Saul, who fear'd lest the full Plenty might
(In the abandon'd Camp expos'd to sight)
His hungry Men from the Pursuit disuade;
A rash, but solemn Vow to Heav'n had made.
Curst be the Wretch, thrice cursed let him be,
Who shall touch Food this busie Day (said he)
Whilst the bless'd Sun does with his fav'ring Light
Assist our vengeful Swords against their Flight.
Be he thrice curst; and if his Life we spare,
On us those Curses fall that he should bear.
Such was the King's rash Vow; who little thought
How near to him Fate th' Application brought.
The two-edg'd Oath, wounds deep, perform'd or broke;
Ev'n Perjury its least and bluntest Stroke.
'Twas his own Son, whom God and Mankind lov'd,
His own victorious Son that he devov'd;
On whose bright Head the baleful Curses light;
But Providence, his Helmet in the Fight,
Forbids their Entrance, or their settling there;
They with brute Sound dissolv'd into the Air.
Him what Religion, or what Vow could bind,
Unknown, unheard of, 'till he' his Life did find
Entangled in 't? Whilst Wonders he did do,
Must he die now, for not be'ing Prophet too?
To all but him this Oath was meant and said;
He afar off, the Ends for which 'twas made
Was acting then, 'till faint and out of Breath,
He grew half dead with Toil of giving Death.
What could his Crime in this Condition be,
Excus'd by Ign'orance and Necessity?
Yet the remorseless King, who did disdain
That Man should hear him swear or threat in vain,
Though 'gainst himself; or Fate a Way should see
By which attack'd and conquer'd he might be:
Who thought Compassion, Female Weakness here,
And Equity Injustice would appear,
In his own Cause; who falsely fear'd beside
The solemn Curse on Jon'athan did abide,
And the infected Limb not cut away,
Would like a Gangreen o'er all Isra'el stray;
Prepar'd this God-like Sacrifice to kill;
And his rash Vow more rashly to fulfil.
What Tongue can th' Horror and Amazement tell,
Which on all Israel that sad Moment fell?
Tamer had been their Grief, fewer their Tears,
Had the Philistian Fate that Day been theirs.
Not Saul's proud Heart could master his swoln Eye;
The Prince alone stood mild and patient by,
So bright his Suff'rings, so triumphant show'd,
Less to the best than worst of Fates he ow'd.
A Vict'ry now he o'er himself might boast;
He Conquer'd now that Conqu'ror of an Host.
It charm'd through Tears the sad Spectators' Sight,
Did Rev'rence, Love. and Gratitude excite,
And pious Rage; with which inspir'd, they now
Oppose to Saul's a better publick Vow.
They all consent, all Israel ought to be
Accurs'd, and kill'd themselves, rather than he.
Thus with kind Force they the glad King withstood,
And sav'd their wondrous Saviour's Sacred Blood.
Thus David spoke; and much did yet remain
Behind, th' Attentive Prince to entertain,
Edom and Zoba's War, for what befel
In that of Moab, was known there too well.
The boundless Quarrel with curst Am'alec's Land,
Where Heav'n it self did Cruelty command,
And practis'd on Saul's Mercy, nor did e'er
More punish Inno' cent Blood, then Pity there.
But, lo! they 'arriv'd now at th' appointed Place;
Well-chosen and well-furnish'd for the Chase.





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net