His Life, the Theme of her eternal Pray'r,
"Tis fcarce fo much his Guardian Angels Cares
Not Summer Morns fuch Mildness can difclose,
The Hermon Lilly, nor the Sharon Rofe.
Neglecting each vain Pomp of Majesty,
Tranfported Michal feeds her Thoughts on high
She lives with Angels, and as Angels do,
Quits Heav'n fometimes to blefs the World below.
Where, cherisht by her Bounties plenteous Spring,
Reviving Widows fmile, and Orphans fing.
Oh! when rebellious Ifrael's Crimes at height,
Are threatned with her Lord's approaching Fate,
The Piety of Michal then remain

In Heaven's Remembrance, and prolong his Reign.
Lefs Defolation did the Peft pursue,
That from Dan's limits to Beersheba flew,
Lefs fatal the repeated Wars of Tyre,
And lefs Jerufalem's avenging Fire.
With gentler Terrour these our State o'er-an,
Than fince our Evidencing Days began!
On every Cheek a pale Confufion fat,
Continu'd Fear beyond the worst of Fate!
Truft was no more, Art, Science, ufelefs made,
All Occupations loft, but Corah's Trade.
Mean while a Guard on modeft Corah wait,
If not for fafety, needful yet for State.

Well might he deem each Peer and Prince his Slave:
And Lord it o'er the Tribes which he could Save:
Ev'n Vice in him was Virtue------what fad Fate
But for his Honefty had feiz' Our State?

And with what Tyranny had we been curft,
Had Corah never prov'd a Villain firft?

Thave told his Knowledge of th' Intrigue in grofs
Had been, alas, to our Deponent's lofs :
The travell'd Levite had th' Experience got,
To husband well, and make the best of's Plot;
And therefore like an Evidence of skill,

With wife Referves fecur'd his Penfion ftill ;.

Nor quite of future Pow'r himself bereft,
But Limbo's large for Unbelievers left.
And now his Writ fuch Reverence had got,
'Twas worse than Plotting to fufpect his Plot.
Some were fo well convinc'd, they made no doubt
Themfelves to help the founder'd Swearers out.
Some had their Senfe impos'd on by their Fear,
But more for Int'reft fake believe and swear :
Ey'n to that height with fome the Frenzy grew,
They rag'd to find their Danger not prove true.
Yet, than all thefe a Viler Crew remain,
Who with Achitophel the Cry maintain;

Not urg'd by Fear, nor through misguided Sense,
(Blind Zeal, and ftarving Need had some pretence)
But for the Good Old Cause that did excite

Th' Original Rebels Wiles, Revenge and Spight.
Thefe raife the Plot, to have the Scandal thrown
Upon the bright Succeffour of the Crown,
Whofe Virtue with fuch Wrongs they had pursu’d,
As feem'd all hope of Pardon to exclude.
Thus, while on private Ends their Zeal is built,
The cheated Crowd applaud and share their Guilt
Such Practices as thefe, too grofs to lye
Long unobferv'd by each difcerning Eye,
The more judicious Ifraelites Unfpell'd,
Though ftill the Charm the giddy Rabble held,
Ev'n Absalom amidst the dazling Beams
Of Empire, and Ambition's flattering Dreams,
Perceives the Plot (too foul to be excus'd)
To aid Defigns, no lefs pernicious, us'd.
And (Filial Senfe yet ftriving in his Breaft)
Thus to Achitophel his Doubts exprest.

Why are my Thoughts upon a Crown employ'd,
Which once obtain'd, can be but half enjoy'd?
Not fo when Virtue did my Arms require,
And to my Father's Wars I flew, intire.
My Regal Pow'r how will my Foes refent,
When I my Self have fearce my own Confent?

Give me a Son's unblemisht Truth again,
Or quench the Sparks of Duty that remain.
How flight to force a Throne that Legions guard
The Task to me; to prove Unjuft, how hard!
And if th' imagin'd Guilt thus wound my Thought,
What will it when the Tragick Scene is wrought?
Dire War must first be conjur'd from below,
The Realm we'd Rule, we first muft Overthrow;
And when the Civil Furies are on wing

That blind and undistinguisht Slaughters fling,
Who knows what impious chance may reach the
King!

Oh! rather let me Perish in the Strife,

Than have my Crown the Price of David's Life!:
Or if the Tempest of the War he stand,
In Peace, fome vile officious Villain's Hand
His Soul's anointed Temple may invade,

Or, preft by clamorous Crowds, my Self be made
His Murtherer; rebellious Crowds, whofe Guilt
Shall dread his Vengeance till his Blood be spilt.
Which if my Filial Tenderness oppofe,
Since to the Empire by their Arms I rofe,
Those very Arms on me fhall be employ'd,"
A new Ufurper Crown'd, and I Destroy'd:
The fame Pretence of Publick Good will hold,
And new Achitophels be found as bold
To urge the needful Change, perhaps the Old.
+He faid. The Statesman with a Smile replies,
(A Smile that did his rifing Spleen disguise)
My Thoughts prefum'd our Labours at an End,
And are we ftill with Confcience to contend?
Whose Want in Kings, as needful is allow'd,
As 'tis for them to find it in the Crowd.
Far in the doubtful Paffage you are gone,
And only can be fafe by preffing on.

The Crown's true Heir, a Prince fevere and wife, Has view'd your Motions long with jealous Eyes: Your Perfon's Charms, your more prevailing Arts, And mark'd your Progrefs in the Peoples Hearts,

Whofe Patience is th' effect of ftinted Pow'r,
But treasures Vengeance for the fatal Hour,
And if remote the Peril he can bring,
Your prefent Danger's greater from the King.
Let not a Parent's Name deceive your Senfe,
Nor trust the Father in a jealous Prince!
Your trivial Faults if he could fo refent,
To doom you little lefs than Banishment,
What Rage muft your Prefumption fince inspire?
Against his Orders your Return from Tyre ?
Nor only fo, but with a Pomp more high,
And open Court of Popularity,

The Factious Tribes----And this Reproof from thee
(The Prince replies) O Statesman's winding Skill,
They first condemn that firft advis'd the Ill!
Illuftrious Youth (return'd Achitophel)

Mifconftrue not the Words that mean you well.
The Courfe you fteer I worthy Blame conclude,
But tis because you leave it unpurfu'd.

A Monarch's Crown with Fate furrounded lies,
Who reach, lay hold on Death that mifs the Prize.
Did you for this expofe your felf to show,
And to the Crowd bow popularly low!
For this your glorious Progrefs next ordain,
With Chariots, Horfemen, and a numerous Train.
With Fame before you like the Morning Star,
And Shouts of Joy faluting from afar?

Oh from the Heights you've reach'd but take a View,
Scarce leading Lucifer cou'd fall like you!
And must I here my Ship-wrackt Arts bemoan?
Have I for this fo oft made Ifrael groan!
Your fingle Intereft with the Nation weigh'd,
And turn'd the Scale where your Defires were laid!
Ev'n when at Helm a Courfe fo dang'rous mov'd
To Land your Hopes, as my Removal prov'd,
I not dispute (the Royal Youth replies)
The known Perfection of your Policies,
Nor in Achitophel yet grudge or blame,
The Privilege that Statesmen ever claim ;

Who private Intereft never yet pursu’d,
But ftill pretended 'twas for others good :
What Politician yet e'er fcap'd his Fate,

Who faving his own Neck not fav'd the State
From hence on ev'ry hum'rous Wind that veer'd,
With fhifted Sails a fev'ral Course you steer'd.
What Form of Sway did David e'er purfue,
That feem'd like Abfolute, but fprung from you?
Who at your Inftance quasht each penal Law,
That kept diffenting Factious Jews in awe;
And who fufpends fixt Laws, may abrogate,
That done, form New, and fo enflave the Stare.
Ev'n Property, whose Champion now you stand,
And feem for this the Idol of the Land,
Did ne'er fuftain fuch Violence before,
As when your Counsel fhut the Royal Store;
Advice, that Ruine to whole Tribes procur'd,
But fecret kept till your own Banks fecar'd.
Recount with this the tripple Cov'nant broke,
And Ifrael fitted for a Foreign Yoke;
Nor here your Counfels fatal Progrefs ftaid,
But fent out levied Powers to Pharaoh's Aid.
Hence Tyre and Ifrael, low in Ruins laid,

And Egypt once their Scorn, their common Terrour>
Ev'n yet of fuch a Seafon we can dream,

[made,

When Royal Rights you made your darling Theme.
For Pow'r unlimited cou'd Reafons draw,
And place Prerogative above the Law;
Which on your fall from Office grew Unfust,
The Laws made King, the King a Slave in Truft:
Whom with State-craft (to Int'reft only true).
You now accufe of Ills contriv'd by you.

To this Hell's Agent-----Royal Youth, fix here,
Let Int'reft be the Star by which you fteer.
Hence to repofe your Truft in me was wife,
Whofe Int'reft mcft in your Advancement lyes.
A Tye so firm as always will avail,

When Friendship, Nature and Religion fail;,