Thro' all the foul tho' virtue holds the rein,
Beats at the heart, and springs in ev'ry vein :
Yet ever from the clearest fource have ran
Some grofs allays, fome tincture of the man.

But who is he?----deep-mufing----in his mind,
He feems to weigh, in reafon's fcales, mankind;
Fix'd contemplation holds his steady eyes----
I know the * fage, the wifeft of the wife.
Bleft with all man could wish, or prince obtain,
Yet his great heart pronounc'd those blessings vain.
And lo! bright glitt'ring in his facred hands,
In miniature the glorious temple stands.
Effulgent frame! ftupendous to behold!

Gold the strong valves, the roof of burnish'd gold.
The wand'ring ark, in that bright dome enfhrin'd,
Spreads the strong light, eternal, unconfin'd!
Above th' unutterable glory plays

Prefence divine! and the full ftreaming rays
Pour thro' reluctant clouds intolerable blaze.

But ftern oppreffion rends Reboam's reign;
See the gay prince, injurious, proud and vain!
Th' imperial fceptre totters in his hand,
And proud rebellion triumps in the land.
Curs'd with corruption's ever-fruitful spring,
A beardless Senate and a haughty King.

}

There Afa, good and great, the fceptre bears, Justice attends his peace, success his wars :

SOLOMON.

While virtue was his fword, and heav'n his fhield,
Without controul the warrior fwept the field;
Loaded with fpoils, triumphant he return'd,
And half her fwarthy Sons fad Ethiopia mourn'd.
But fince thy flagging piety decay'd,

And barter'd God's defence for human aid;
See their fair laurels wither on thy brow,
Nor herbs, nor healthful arts avail thee now,
Nor is heav'n chang'd, apoftate prince, but Thou..
No mean attonement does this lapse require;
But fee the Son, you must forgive the Sire:
He, the juft prince----with ev'ry virtue blefs'd,
He reign'd, and goodness all the man poffefs'd,
Around his throne fair happinefs, and peace
Smooth'd ev'ry brow, and fmil'd in ev'ry face.

*

As when along the burning wafte he stray'd, Where no pure ftreams in bubbling mazes play'd, Where drought, incumbent on the thirsty ground, Long fince had breath'd her scorching blasts around; The Prophet calls, th' obedient floods repair To the parch'd fields, for Jofaphat was there. The new-fprung waves, in many a gurgling vein, Trickle luxurious through the fucking plain; Fresh honours the reviving fields adorn, And o'er the defart plenty pours her horn.

*JOSAPHAT.

+ ELISHA.

Ꭰ

So, from the throne his influence he sheds,
And bids the virtues raise their languid heads:
Where'er he goes, attending Truth prevails,
Oppreffion flies, and Juftice lifts her scales.
See, on his arm the royal eagle stand,
Great type of conqueft, and fupreme command;
Th' exulting bird distinguish'd triumph brings,
And greets the Monarch with expanded wings.
Fierce Moab's fons prevent th' impending blow,
Rush on themselves, and fall without the foe,
The pious hero vanquish'd Heaven by pray'r;
His faith an army, and his vows a war,
Thee too, Ozias, fates indulgent bleft,
And thy day fhone, in fairest actions dreft;
Till that rash hand, by fome blind frenzy fway'd,
Unclean, the facred office durft invade,
Quick, o'er thy limbs the fcurfy venom ran,
And hoary filth befprinkled all the man.

Tranfmiffive worth adorns the pious * Son,
The father's virtues with the father's throne.
Lo! there he stands: he, who the rage subdu'd
Of Ammon's fons, and drench'd his fword in blood.

And doft thou, Ahaz, Judah's fcourge, difgrace, With thy bafe front, the glories of thy race?

See the vile King his iron fceptre bear----
His only praise attends the pious * Heir;
He, in whofe foul the virtues all confpire,
The best good fon, from the worst wicked fire.
And lo! in Hezekiah's golden reign,
Long-exil'd Piety returns again;

Again in genuine purity fhe fhines:

And with her prefence gilds the long-neglected fhrines.

Ill-starr'd does proud Affyria's impious + Lord

Bid Heav'n to arms, and vaunt his dreadful fword;
His own vain threats th' infulting King o'erthrow,
But breathe new courage on the gen'rous foe.
Th' avenging Angel, by divine command,
The fiery fword full-blazing in his hand,
Leant down from Heav'n: amid the storm he rode
March'd Peftilence before him; as he trod,
Pale Defolation bath'd his fteps in blood.
Thick wrapt in night, thro' the proud host he past,
Dispensing death, and drove the furious blast;
Nor bade Destruction give her revels o'er,
Till the gorg'd fword was drunk with human gore.
But what avails thee, pious Prince, in vain
Thy fceptre refcu'd, and th' Affyrian flain?
Ev'n now the foul maintains her latest ftrife,
And death's chill grafp congeals the fount of life.

HEZEKIAH.

SENNACHERIB.

Yet, fee, kind Heav'n renews thy brittle thread,
And rolls full fifteen fummers o'er thy head;
Lo! the receding fun repeats his way,
And, like thy life, prolongs the falling day.
Tho' nature her inverted course forego,
The day forget to reft, the time to flow,
Yet fhall Jehovah's fervants stand fecure,
His mercy fix'd, eternal shall endure;

On them her ever-healing rays shall shine;
More mild and bright, and sure, O fun! than thine.
At length the long-expected Prince behold,
The last good King; in ancient days foretold,
When Bethel's altar spoke his future fame,
Rent to it's bafe, at good Jofiah's name.
Bleft, happy prince! o'er whofe lamented urn,
In plaintive fong, all Judah's daughters mourn;
For whom fad Sion's fofteit forrow flows,
And Jeremiah pours his fweet melodious woes.

But now fall'n Sion, once the fair and great,
Sits deep in duft, abandon'd, defolate;
Bleeds her fad heart, and ever ftream her eyes,
And anguish tears her, with convulfive fighs.
The mournful captive spreads her hands in vain,
Her hands, that rankle with the fervile chain;
Till he, Great Chief! in Heav'n's appointed time,
Leads back her children, to their native clime.