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Where drought incumbent on the thirsty ground
Long since had breath'd herscorching blasts around:
The prophet* calls, th' obedient floods repair
To the parch'd fields, for Josaphat was there.
The new-spring waves, in many a gurgling vein,
Trickles luxurious through the sucking plain;
Fresh honours the reviving fields adorn,
And o'er the desert plenty pours her horn.
So, from the throne his influence he sheds,
And bids the virtues raise their languid heads :
Where'er he goes, attending Truth prevails,
Oppression flies, and Justice lifts her scales.
See, on his arın the royal eagle stand,
Great type of conquest and supreme command ;
Th' exulting bird distinguish'd triumph brings,
And greets the Monarch with expanded wings.
Fierce Moab’s sons 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 bless’d,
And thy days shone in fairest actions dress’d;
Till that rash hand, by some blind frensy sway'd,
Unclean, the sacred office durst invade :
Quick o'er thy limbs the scurfy venom ran,
And hoary filth besprinkled all the man.
See the vile king his iron sceptre bear-
His only praise attends the pious * heir;
He, in whose soul the yirtues all conspire,
The best good son from the worst wicked sire.
And lo! in Hezekiah's golden reign,
Long exil'd piety returns again;
Again in genuine purity she shines, (shrines.
And with her presence gilds the long-neglected
Ill-starr'd does proud Assyria's impious lordt
Bid Heav'n to arms, and vaunt his dreadful sword !
His own vain threats th’insulting king o'erthrow,
But breathe new courage on the gen'rous foe.
Th' arenging angel, by divine command,
The fiery sword full-blazing in his hand,
Lean'd down from heaven:amid the storm herode, )
March'd Pestilence before him; as he trod,
Pale desolation bath'd his steps in blood.
Thick wrapt in night, through the proud host he
Dispensing death, and drove the furious blast;
Nor bade Destruction give her revels o'er
Till the gorg'd sword was drunk with human gore.
But what avails thee, pious prince, in vain
Thy sceptre rescu'd, and th' Assyrian slain ?
E'en now the soul maintains her latest strife,
And death's chill grasp congeals the fount of life.
Yet see, kind Heaven renews thy brittle thread,
And rolls full fisteen summers o'er thy head ;
Lo! the receding Sun repeats his way,
And, like thy life, prolongs the falling day.
Though nature her inverted course forego,
The day forget to rest, the time to flow,
Yet shall Jehovah's servants stand secure,
His mercy fix'd, eternal shall endure:
On them her ever-healing rays shall shine;
More mild and bright, and sure, O Sun! 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 its base, at good Josiah's name.
Blest happy prince ! o'er whose lamented urn,
In plaintive song, all Judah's daughters mourn;
For whom sad Sion's softest sorrow flows,
And Jeremiah pours his sweet melodious woes.
But now fallen Sion, once the fair and great, Sits deep in dust, abandon’d, desolate: Bleeds her sad heart, and ever stream her eyes, And anguish tears her with convulsive sighs. The mournful captive spreads her hands in vain, Her hands, that rankle with the servile chain; Till he*, great chief, in Heav'n's appointed timer Leads back her children to their native clime. Fair Liberty revives with all her joys, And bids her envied walls securely rise. And thou, great hallow'd dome, in ruin spread, Again shall lift sublime thy sacred head. But, ah! with weeping eyes, the ancients view A faint resemblance of the old in you. No more th' effulgent glory of thy God Speaks awful answers from the mystic cloud; No more thine altars blaze with fire divine; And Heaven has left thy solitary shrine. Yet in thy courts, hereafter shalt thou see, Presence immediate of the Deity, (thee. The Light himself reveal'd, the God confess'd in
And now at length the fated term of years The world's Desire have brought, and lo! the God
appears. The heavenly Babe the Virgin Mother bears, And her fond looks confess'd the parent's cares; The pleasing burden on her breast she lays, Hangs o'er her charms, and with a smile surveys : The infant smiles, to her fond bosom prest, And wantons, sportive, on the mother's breast. A radiant glory speaks him all divine, And in the child the beams of godhead shine. But now, alas! far other views disclose The blackest comprehensive scene of woes. See where man's voluntary sacrifice Bows his meek head, and God eternal dies ! Fix'd to the cross his healing arms are bound, While copious mercy streams from ev'ry wound. Mark the blood-drops that life exhausting roll, And the strong pang that rends the stubborn soul, As all death's tortures, with severe delay, Exult and riot in the noblest prey ! And canst thou, stupid man, those sorrows see, Nor share the anguish which he bears for thee? Thy sin, for which his sacred flesh is torn, Points ev'ry nail, and sharpens ev'ry thorn. Canst thou?-while nature smarts in ev'ry wound, And each pang cleaves the sympathetic ground! Lo! the black Sun, his chariot backward driven, Blots out the day, and perishes from Heav'n! Earth, trembling from her entrails, bears a part; And the rent rock upbraids man's stubborn heart, The yawning grave reveals his gloomy reign, And the cold clay-clad dead start into life again.
And thou, O tomb, once more shalt wide display
Thy satiate jaws, and give up all thy prey.
Thou,groaning Earth, shalt heave, absorpt in flame,
As the last pangs convulse thy lab’ring frame;
When the same God unshrouded thou shalt see,
Wrapt in full blaze of pow'r and majesty,
Ride on the clouds; whilst, as his chariot flies,
The bright effusion streams through all the skies.
Then shall the proud dissolving mountains glow,
And yielding rocks in fiery rivers flow:
The molten deluge round the globe shall roar,
And all man's arts and labour be no more.
Then shall the splendours of th' enliven'd glass
Sink undistinguish'd in the burning mass.
And oh! till earth and seas, and heaven decay,
Ne'er may that fair creation fade away; [spare,
May winds and storms those beauteous colours
Stijl may they bloom, as permanent as fair;
All the vain rage of wasting time repel,
And his tribunal see, whose cross they paint so well.
THE EXCELLENCY OF THE BIBLE.
GREAT God, with wonder and with praise
On all thy works I look: But still thy wisdom, power,
grace, Shine brightest in thy book. The stars that in their courses roll,
Have much instruction given; But thy good word informs my soul
How I may climb to Heaven.