Thus, as you've seen th' effect reveal the cause,
Is Nature's ruler known in Nature's laws;
Thus still his power is o'er the world display'd,
And still rejoices in the world he made.
The Lord he reigns, the King of kings is king;
Let nations praise, and praises learn to sing.
My verses here may change their style again,
And trace the psalmist in another strain;
Where all his soul the soldier's spirit warms,
And to the music fits the sound of arms;
Where brave disorder does in numbers dwell,
And artful number speaks disorder well.
Arise, my genius, and attempt the praise
Of dreaded power, and perilous essays;
And where his accents are too nobly great,
Like distant echoes, give the faint repeat:
For who, like him, with enterprizing pen,
Can paint the Lord of Hosts in wrath with men?
Or, with just images of tuneful lay,

Set all his terrours in their fierce array?
He comes! The tumult of discording spheres,
The quivering shocks of earth, confess their fears;
Thick smoke precede, and blasts of angry breath,
That kindle dread devouring flames of death.
He comes! the firmament, with dismal night,
Bows down, and seems to fall upon the light;
The darkling mists enwrap his head around,
The waters deluge, and the tempests sound;
While on the cherub's purple wings he flies,
And plants his black pavilion in the skies.
He comes! the clouds remove; the rattling hail,
Descending, bounds, and scatters o'er the vale:
His voice is heard, his thunder speaks his ire,
His lightning blasts with blue sulphureous fire;
His brandish'd bolts with swift commission go,
To punish man's rebellious acts below.
His stern rebukes lay deepest ocean bare,
And solid earth, by wide eruption, tear.
Then glares the naked gulph with dismal ray,
And then the dark foundations see the day:
O God! let mercy this thy war assuage:
Alas! no mortal can sustain thy rage.
While I but strive the dire effects to tell,
And on another's words attentive dwell,
Confusing passions in my bosom roll,
And all in tumult work the troubled soul:
Remorse with pity, fear with sorrow blend,
And I but strive in vain; my verse, descend,
To less aspiring paths direct thy flight, [might;
Though still the less may more than match thy
While I to second agents tune the strings,
And Israel's warrior Israel's battles sings;
Great warrior he, and great to sing of war,
Whose lines (if ever lines prevail'd so far)
Might pitch the tents, compose the ranks anew,
To combat sound, and bring the toil to view.
O nation most securely rais'd in name,
Whose fair records he wrote for endless fame;
O nation oft victorious o'er thy foes,
At once thy conquests, and thy thanks he shows;
For thus be sung the realms that must be thine,
And made thee thus confess an aid divine.
When Mercy look'd, the waves perceiv'd its sway,
And Israel pass'd the deep divided sea.
When Mercy spake it, haughty Pharaoh's host,
And haughty Pharaoh, by the waves were tost,
When Mercy led us through the desert sand,
We reach'd the borders of the promis'd land:
Then all the kings their gather'd armies brought,
And all those kings by Mercy's help we fought:

VOL. IX.

There, with their monarch, Amor's people bleed,
For God was gracious and the tribes succeed.
There monstrous Ogg was fell'd ou Basan's plain,
For God was gracious to the tribes again.
At length their yoke the realms of Canaan feel,
And Israel sings that God is gracious still.

Nor has the warlike prince alone inroll'd
The wondrous feats their fathers did of old;
His own emblazon'd acts adorn his lays,
These too may challenge just returns of praise.
"My God!" he cries," my surest rock of might
My trust in dangers, and my shield in fight;
Thy matchless bounties I with gladness own,
Nor find assistance but from thee alone:
Thy strength is armour, and my path success,
No power like thee can thus securely bless.
When troops united would arrest my course,

I break their files, and through their order force;
When in their towns they keep, my siege I form,
And leap the battlements, and lead the storm;
And when in camps abroad intrench'd they lie,
As swift as hinds in chase I bound on high;
My strenuous arms thou teachest how to kill,
And snap in sunder temper'd bows of steel;
My moving footsteps are enlarg'd by thee,
And kept from snares of planned ambush free;
And when my foes forsake the field of fight,
Then, flush'd with conquest, I pursue their flight:
In vain their fears, that almost reach despair,
The trembling wretches from mine anger bear;
As swift as fear brisk warmth of conquest goes,
And at my feet dejects the wounded foes;
For help they call, but find their helper's gone,
For God's against them, and I drive them on
As whirling dust in airy tumult fly,

Before the tempest that involves the sky;
And, in my rage's unavoided sway,

I tread their necks like abject heaps of clay."
The warrior thus in song his deeds express'd,
Nor vainly boasted what he but confess'd;
While warlike actions were proclaim'd abroad,
That all their praises should refer to God.

And here, to make this bright design arise,
In fairer splendour to the nation's eyes,
From private valour he converts his lays,
For yet the public claim'd attempts of praise;
And public conquests where they jointly fought
Thus stand recorded by reflecting thought:
"God sent his Samuel from his holy seat
To bear the promise of my future state,
And I, rejoicing, see the tribes fulfil
The promis'd purpose of Almighty will:
Subjected Sichem, sweet Samaria's plain,
And Succoth's valleys, have confess'd my reign;
Remoter Gilead's hilly tracts obey,

Manasseh's parted sands accept my sway; [mine,
Strong Ephraim's sons and Ephraim's ports are
And mine the throne of princely Judah's line;
Then since my people with my standard go,
To bring the strength of adverse empire low,
Let Moab's soil, to vile subjection brought,
With groans declare how well our ranks have fought;
Let vanquish'd Edom bow its humbled head,
And tell how pompous on its pride I tread;
And now, Philistia, with thy conquering host,
Dismay'd and broke, of conquer'd Israel boast;
But if a seer or rabbah yet remain
On Johemaan's hill, or Amon's plain,
Lead forth our armies, Lord, regard our prayer.
Lead, Lord of battles, and we'll conquer there,"

c.

Such grief, such sorrows, in amazing view,
Distracted fears and heaviness pursue."
Ye Sages, deeply read in human frame,
The passions' causes, and their wild extreme;
Where mov'd an object more oppos'd to bliss,
What other agony could equai his?

The music still proceeds with mournful airs,
And speaks the dangers, as it speaks the fears.
"Oh, sacred presence, from the son withdrawn:
Oh, God, my father, whither art thou gone!
Oh, must my soul bewail tormenting pain,
And all my words of anguish fall in vain?
The trouble's near, in which my life will end;
But none is near, that will assistance lend;
Like Bashan's bulls, my foes against me throng,
So proud, inhuman, numberless, and strong.
Like desert lions, on their prey they go,
So much their fierce desire of blood they show:
As ploughers wound the ground, they tore my back,
And long deep furrows manifest the track.
They pierc'd my tender hands, my tender feet,
And caus'd sharp pangs, where nerves in num-
bers meet;

Rich streams of life forsake my rended veins,
And fall like water spill'd upon the plains;
My bones, that us'd in hollow seats to close,
Disjoint with anguish of convulsive throws;
My mourning heart is melted in my frame,
As wax dissolving runs before a flame;

My strength dries up, my flesh the moisture leaves,
And on my tongue my clammy palate cleaves:
Alas! I thirst; alas! for drink I call;
For drink they give me vinegar and gall.
To sportful game the savage soldiers go,
And for my vesture, on my vesture throw;
While all deride, who see me thus forlorn,

·

And shoot their lips, and shake their heads in scorn.
And, with despiteful jest, Behold,' they cry,
'The great peculiar darling of the sky;

He trusted God would save his soul from woe,
Now God may have him, if he loves him so.'
But to the dust of death, by quick decay,
I come; O Father, be not long away."
And was it thus, the prince of life was slain?
And was it thus he dy'd for worthless men?
Yes, blessed Jesus! thus, in every line,
The sufferings which the prophet spake were thine.
Come, Christian, to the corpse, in spirit come,
And with true sins of grief surround the tomb.
Upon the threshold-stone let Sin be slain,
Such sacrifice will best avenge his pain.
Bring thither then repentance, sighs, and tears,
Bring mortify'd desires, bring holy fears;
And earnest prayer express'd from thoughts that
roll

Through broken mind, and groanings of the soul;
These scatter on his hearse, and so prepare
Those obsequies the Jews deny'd him there;
While in your hearts the flames of love may burn,
To dress the vault, like lamps in sacred urn.
There oft, my soul, in such a grateful way,
Thine humblest homage, with the godly pay.
But David strikes the sounding chords anew,
And to thy first design recals thy view;
From life to death, from death to life he flies,
And still pursues his object in his eyes;
And here recounts, in more enliven'd song,
The sacred presence, not absented long:
The flesh not suffer'd in the grave to dwell,
The soul not suffer'd to remain in Hell;

But as the conqueror, fatigu'd in war,
With hot pursuit of enemies afar,
Reclines to drink the torrent gliding by,
Then lifts his looks to repossess the sky;
So bow'd the Son, in life's uneasy road,
With anxious toil and thorny danger strow'd;
So bow'd the Son, but not to find relief,
But taste the deep imbitter'd floods of grief;
So when he tasted these, he rais'd his head,
And left the sable mansions of the dead,
Ere mouldering time consum'd the bones away,
Or slow corruption's worms had work'd decay:
Here faith's foundations all the soul employ
With springing graces, springing beams of joy;
Then paus'd the voice, where Nature's seen to pause,
And for a time suspend her ancient laws.

From hence arising as the glories rise,
That must advance above the lofty skies,
He runs with sprightly fingers o'er the lyre,
And fills new songs with new celestial fire:
In which he shows, by fair description's ray,
The Christ's ascension to the realms of day;
When Justice, pleas'd with life already paid,
Unbends her brows, and sheaths her angry blade;
And meditates rewards, and will restore
What Mercy woo'd him, to forsake before.
When on a cloud, with gilded edge of light,
He rose above the reach of human sight,
And met the pomp that hung aloft in air,
To make his honours more exceeding fair;
"See," cries the prophet, "how the chariots wait
To bear him upwards in triumphant state,
By twenty thousands in unnumber'd throng,
And angels draw the glittering ranks along.
The Lord amongst them sits in glory dress'd,
Nor more the presence, Sinai Mount confest."
And now the chariots have begun to fly,
The triumph moves, the Lord ascends on high,
And Sin and Satan, 'us'd to captive men,
Are dragg'd for captives in his ample train;
While, as he goes, seraphic circles sing
The wondrous conquest of their wondrous king;
With shouts of joy their heavenly voices raise,
And with shrill trumpets manifest his praise;
From such a point of such exceeding height,
A while my verses stoop their airy flight,
And seem for rest on Olivet to breathe,
And charge the two that stand in white beneath;
That as they move, and join the moving rear
Within their honour'd hands, aloft they bear
The crown of thorns, the cross on which he dy'd,
The nails that pierc'd his limbs, the spear his side;
Then, where kind Mercy lays the thunder by,
Where Peace has hung great Michael's arms on
Let these adorn his magazine above,
And hang the trophies of victorious love;
Lest man, by superstitious mind entic'd,'
Should idolize whatever touch'd the Christ.

[high;

But still the prophet in the spirit soars To new Jerusalem's imperial doors; There sees and hears the bless'd angelic throng, There feels their music, and records their song: Or, with the vision warm'd, attempts to write, For those inhabitants of native light, And teaches harmony's distinguish'd parts, In sweet respondence of united hearts; For thus without might warbling angels sing, Their course containing on the flutter'd wing, Eternal gates! your stately portals rear, Eternal gates! your ways of joy prepare;

The King of Glory for admittance stays;
He comes, he'll enter, O prepare your ways;
Then bright arch-angels, that attend the wall,
Might thus upon the beauteous order call:
Ye fellow-ministers, that now proclaim
Your King of Glory, tell his awful name.
At which the beauteous order will accord,
And sound of solemn notes pronounce the Lord:
The Lord endued with strength, renown'd for
might,

With spoils returning from the finish'd fight.
Again with lays they charm the sacred gates,
And graces double, while the song repeats;
Again within the sacred guardians sing,
And ask the name of their victorious king;
And then again, the Lord's the name rebounds
From tongue to tongue, catch'd up in frequent
rounds.

New thrones and powers appear to lift the gate,
And David still pursues their enter'd state.
Oh, prophet! father! whither would'st thou fly?
Oh, mystic Israel's chariot for the sky;
Thou sacred spirit! what a wondrous height,
By thee supported, soars his airy flight!
For glimpse of Majesty divine is brought,
Among the shifted prospects of the thought:
Dread, sacred sight! I dare not gaze for fear,
But sit beneath the singer's feet, and hear;
And hold each sound that interrupts the mind,
Thus in a calm by power of verse confin'd.

Ye dreadful ministers of God, displeas'd, In blasting tempests be no longer rais'd! [groan, Ye deep-mouth'd thunders, leave your direful Nor roll in hollow clouds around the throne. The still small voice more justly will express How great Jehovah did the Lord address. And you bright-feather'd choirs of endless peace, A while from tuneful hallelujahs cease; A while stand fix'd, with deep attentive care, You'll have the time to sing for ever there. The royal prophet will the silence break, And in his words Almighty goodness speak. He spake (and smil'd to see the business done), "Thou art my first, my great begotten Son; Here on the right of Majesty sit down, Enjoy thy conquest, and receive thy crown, While I thy worship and renown complete, And make thy foes the foot-stool of thy feet; For I'll pronounce the long-resolv'd decree, My sacred Sion be reserv'd for thee. From thence thy peaceful rod of power extend, From thence thy Messenger of Mercy send, And teach thy vanquish'd enemies to bow, And rule where Hell has fix'd an empire now. Then ready nations to their rightful king The free-will offerings of their hearts shall bring, In holy beauties for acceptance dress'd, And ready nations be with pardon bless'd; Meanwhile thy dawn of truth begins the day, Enlighten'd subjects shall increase the sway; With such a splendid and unnumber'd train, As dews in morning fill the grassy plain. This by myself I swore; the great intent Has past my sanction, and I can't repent: Thou art a king, and priest of peace below, Like Salem's monarch, and for ever so. Ask what thou wilt, 'tis thine the Gentiles' claim; For thy possession take the world's extreme. The kings shall rage, the parties strive in vain, By persecuting rage, to break thy reign;

Thou art my Christ, and they that still can be
Rebellious subjects be destroy'd by thee.
Bring, like the potter, to severe decay,
Thy worthless creatures, found in humble clay;
Then hear, ye monarchs, and ye judges hear,
Rejoice with trembling, serve the Lord with fear;
In his commands with signs of homage move,
And kiss the gracious offers of his love:
Ye surely perish if his anger flame,
And only they be bless'd that bless his name."
Thus does the Christ in David's anthems shine,
With full magnificence of art divine;
Then on his subjects gifts of grace bestow,
And spread his image on their hearts below;
As when our earthly kings receive the globe,
The sacred unction, and the purple robe,
And mount the throne with golden glory crown'd,
They scatter medals of themselves around;
There heavenly singers clap their vary'd wings,
And lead the choir of all created things.
Relate his glory's everlasting prime,

His fame continued with the length of time;
While, ere the Sun shall dart a gilded beam,
Or changing Moons diffuse the silver'd gleam;
Where-e'er the waves of rolling ocean sent,
Encompass land with arms of wide extent.
Hail, full of mercy: ready nations cry!
Hail, oh, for ever, ever bless'd on high!
Hail, oh, for ever on thy beauteous throne!
Thou Lord that workest wondrous things alone!
Still let thy glory to the world appear,
And all the riches of thy goodness hear.

But thou, fair church, in whom he fixes love,
Thou queen accepted of the Prince above;
Behold him fairer than the sons of men;
Embrace his offer'd heart, and share his reign;
In Moses' laws they bred thy tender years;
But now to new commands incline thine ears,
Forget thy people, bear no more in mind
Thy father's houshold, for thy spouse is kind.
Within thy soul let vain affections die,
Him only worship, and with him comply.
So shall thy spouse's heart with thine agree,
So shall his fervour still increase for thee. {
Come, while he calls, supremely-favour'd queen
In heavenly glories dress thy soul within;
With pious actions to the throne be brought,
In close connection of the virtues wrought;
Let these around thee for a garment shine,
And be the work to make them pleasing thine:
Come, lovely queen, advance with stately port;
Thy good companions shall complete thy court,
With joyful souls their joyful entrance sing,
And fill the palace of your gracious king;
What though thy Moses and the prophets cease,
What though the priesthood leaves the settled race,
'The father's place their offspring well supplies,
When at thy spouse's ministry they rise;
When thy bless'd houshold on his orders go,
And rule for him where-e'er he reigns below.
Come, queen exalted, come; my lasting song
To future ages shall thy fame prolong.
The joyful nations shall thy praise proclaim,
And, for their safety, crowd beneath thy name,
Oh, bounteous Saviour! still thy mercy kind,
Still what thy David sung, thy servants find!
Still what thy David sung thy servants see,
From thee sent down, and sent again to thee.
They see the words of thanks, and love divine,
In strains mysterious intermingled shine,