Which, for its generous natives, yet could be
Held worthy such a president as he!

Bezaliel, with each grace and virtue fraught,
Serene his looks, serene his life and thought,
On whom so largely Nature heap'd her store,
There scarce remain❜d for arts to give him more!
To aid the crown and state his greatest zeal,
His second care, that service to conceal;
Of dues observant, firm to every trust,
And to the needy always more than just;
Who truth from specious falsehood can divide,
Has all the gownsmen's skill, without their pride;
Thus crown'd with worth, from heights of honour
Sees all his glories copied in his son,

[won,
Whose forward fame should every Muse engage,
Whose youth boasts skill denied to others' age;
Men, manners, language, books of noblest kind,
Already are the conquest of his mind;
Whose loyalty, before its date, was prime.
Nor waited the dull course of rolling time:
The monster Faction early he dismay'd,
And David's cause long since confess'd his aid.
Brave Abdael o'er the prophets' school was plac'd,
Abdael, with all his father's virtue grac'd;
A hero who, while stars look'd wondering down,
Without one Hebrew's blood restor❜d the crown.
That praise was his: what therefore did remain
For following chief, but boldly to maintain
That crown restor❜d? and in this rank of fame
Brave Abdael, with the first, a place must claim.
Proceed, illustrious, happy Chief! proceed,
Foreseize the garlands for thy brow decreed;
While the' inspir'd tribe attend with noblest strain,
To register the glories thou shalt gain;

For sure the dew shall Gilboah's hills forsake,
And Jordan mix his stream with Sodom's lake,
Or seas retir'd, their secret stores disclose,
And to the sun their scaly brood expose;
Or, swell❜d above the cliffs, their billows raise,
Before the Muses leave their patron's praise.
Eliab our next labour does invite,

And hard the task to do Eliab right:
Long with the Royal wanderer he rov'd,
And firm in all the turns of fortune prov'd!
Such ancient service, and desert so large,
Well claim'd the royal household for his charge.
His age with only one mild heiress blest,
In all the bloom of smiling Nature drest,
And blest again, to see his flower allied

To David's stock, and made young Othniel's bride?
The bright restorer of his father's youth,
Devoted to a son's and subject's truth;
Resolv'd to bear that prize of duty home,
So bravely sought, while sought by Absalom.
Ah, prince! the' illustrious planet of thy birth,
And thy more powerful virtue, guard thy worth,
That no Achitophel thy ruin boast;

Israel too much in one such wreck has lost.

E'en envy must consent to Helon's worth, Whose soul, though Egypt glories in his birth, Could for our captive ark its zeal retain, And Pharaoh's altars in their pomp disdain: To slight his gods was small; with nobler pride He all the' allurements of his court defied; Whom profit nor example could betray, But Israel's friend, and true to David's sway: What acts of favour in his province fall, On merit he confers, and freely all.

Our list of nobles next let Amri grace,

Whose merits claim'd the Abethdins' high place;

Who with a loyalty that did excel,

Brought all the' endowments of Achitophel.
Sincere was Amri, and not only knew,
But Israel's sanctions into practice drew;
Our laws, that did a boundless ocean seem,
Were coasted all, and fathom'd all by him:
No Rabbin speaks like him their mystic sense
So just, and with such charms of eloquence;
To whom the double blessing does belong,
With Moses' inspiration, Aaron's tongue.

Than Sheva none more loyal zeal have shown,
Wakeful as Judah's Lion for the crown;
Who for that cause still combats in his age,
For which his youth with danger did engage.
In vain our factious priests the cant revive,
In vain seditious scribes with libel strive
To'enflame the crowd, while he, with watchful eye,
Observes, and shoots their treasons as they fly;
Their weekly frauds his keen replies detect;
He undeceives more fast than they infect,
So Moses, when the pest on legions prey'd,
Advanc'd his signal, and the plague was stay'd.
Once more, my fainting Muse, thy pinions try,
And strength's exhausted store let love supply.
What tribute, Asaph, whall we render thee?
We'll crown thee with a wreath from thy own tree!
Thy laurel grove no envy's flash can blast;

The song of Asaph shall for ever last.

With wonder late posterity shall dwell

On Absalom and false Achitophel;

Thy strains shall be our slumbering prophets' dream, And when our Sion-virgins sing their theme,

Our jubilees shall with thy verse be grac❜d';
The song of Asaph shall for ever last.

[tame!

How fierce his satire, loos'd! restrain'd, how How tender of the' offending young man's fame! How well his worth, and brave adventures stil'd, Just to his virtues, to his error mild.

No page of thine that fears the strictest view,
But teems with just reproof, or praise, as due;
Not Eden could a fairer prospect yield,
All Paradise without one barren field;
Whose wit the censure of his foes has past;
The song of Asaph shall for ever last.

What praise for such rich strains shall we allow ?
What just rewards the grateful Crown bestow?
While bees in flowers rejoice, and flowers in dew,
While stars and fountains to their course are true;
While Judah's throne and Sion's rock stand fast,
The song of Asaph, and the fame, shall last.
Still Hebron's honour'd, happy soil, retains
Our Royal hero's beauteous dear remains,
Who now sails off, with winds nor wishes slack,
To bring his sufferings' bright companion back;
But ere such transport can our sense employ,
A bitter grief must poison half our joy;
Nor can our coasts restor❜d those blessings see,
Without a bribe to envious Destiny!
Curs'd Sodom's doom for ever fix the tide
Where, by inglorious chance, the valiant died.
Give not insulting Askalon to know,

Nor let Gath's daughters triumph in our woe!
No sailor with the news swell Egypt's pride,
By what inglorious fate our valiant died!
Weep, Arnon! Jordan, weep thy fountains dry,
While Zion's rock dissolves for a supply.

Calm were the elements, Night's silence deep, The waves scarce murmuring, and the winds asleep; Yet Fate for ruin takes so still an hour,

And treacherous sands the princely bark devour;
Then Death unworthy seiz'd a generous race,
To virtue's scandal, and the stars' disgrace!
Oh! had the' indulgent powers vouchsaf'd to yield,
Instead of faithless shelves, a listed field,

A listed field of Heaven's and David's foes,
Fierce as the troops that did his youth oppose,
Each life had on his slaughter'd heap retir'd,
Not tamely, and unconquering, thus expir'd;
But Destiny is now their only foe,

And dying, e'en o'er that they triumph too;
With loud last breaths their master's 'scape applaud,
Of whom kind Force could scarce the Fates defraud;
Who for such followers lost, O matchless mind!
At his own safety now almost repin'd!—
Say, Royal Sir, by all your fame in arms,
Your praise in peace, and by Urania's charms,
If all your sufferings past so nearly prest,
Or pierc'd with half so painful grief, your breast?
Thus some diviner Muse her hero forms,

Not spoth'd with soft delights, but toss'd in storms;
Nor stretch'd on roses in the myrtle-grove,
Nor crowns his days with mirth, his nights with love;
But far remov'd, in thundering camps is found,
His slumbers short, his bed the herbless ground;
In tasks of danger always seen the first,
Feeds from the hedge, and slakes with ice his thirst:
Long must his patience strive with Fortune's rage,
And long opposing gods themselves engage;
Must see his country flame, his friends destroy'd,
Before the promis'd empire be enjoy'd: