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 fcales.
See, on his arm, the royal eagle ftand,
Great type of conqueft and fupreme command;
Th' exulting bird diftinguish'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 Heav'n by pray'r;
His faith an army, and his vows a war.
Thee too, Ozias, fates indulgent bleft
And thy days fhone, in fairest actions drest;
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 adorus the pious Son, The father's virtues with the father's throne. Lo! there he ftands: he who the rage fubdu'd Of Ammon's fons, and drench'd his fword in blood, And doft thou, Ahaz, Judah's fcourge, difgrace, With thy base front, the glories of thy race?
See the vile King his iron fceptre bear----
His only praise attends the pious * Heir;
He, in whose foul the virtues all confpire,
The best good son, 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-ftarr'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 ftorm 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.
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 secure,
His mercy fix'd, eternal shall endure;
On them her ever-healing rays fhall shine;
More mild and bright, and fure, O fun! than thine.
At length, the long-expected Prince behold,
The laft good King; in ancient days foretold,
When Bethel's altar spoke his future fame,
Rent to its base, 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 fofteft Sorrow flows,
And Jeremiah pours his sweet melodious woes.
But now fall'n Sion, once the fair and great,
Sits deep in duft, abandon'd, desolate;
Bleeds her fad heart, and ever stream 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.
Fair liberty revives with all her joys,
And bids her envy'd walls fecurely rise.
And thou, great hallow'd dome, in ruin spread,
Again fhall lift fublime thy facred 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 anfwers from the mystic cloud :
No more thine altars blaze with fire divine,
And Heav'n has left thy folitary shrine.
Yet, in thy courts, hereafter shalt thou fee
Prefence immediate of the Deity,
The light himself reveal'd, the God confefs'd
in Thee.
And now, at length, the fated term of years The world's defire have brought, and lo! the
The Heav'nly Babe the Virgin Mother bears,
And her fond looks confefs the parent's cares.
The pleafing burden on her breast she lays,
Hangs o'er his charms, and with a smile furveys.
The Infant fmiles, to her fond bofom preft,
And wantons, fportive, on the mother's breast.
A radiant glory speaks him all Divine,
And in the Child the beams of Godhead fhine.
But now alas! far other views disclose
The blackest comprehenfive scene of woes.
See where man's voluntary facrifice
Bows his meek head, and God eternal dies!
Fixt to the Cross, his healing arms are bound,
While copious Mercy ftreams from every wound.
Mark the blood-drops that life exhaufting roll,
And the strong pang that rends the stubborn foul!
As all death's tortures, with fevere delay,
Exult and riot in the nobleft prey.
And can't thou, ftupid man, those sorrows see,
Nor share the anguish which He bears for Thee?
Thy fin, for which his facred Flesh is torn,
Points ev'ry nail, and sharpens ev'ry thorn;
Canft thou ?---while nature smarts in ev'ry wound,
And each pang cleaves the fympathetic ground!
Lo! the black fun, his chariot backward driv❜n,
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, ftart into life again.
And thou, O tomb, once more fhalt wide display,
Thy fatiate jaws, and give up all thy prey.
Thou, groaning earth fhalt heave, absorpt in flame,
As the last pangs convulfe thy lab'ring frame;
When the fame God unshrouded thou fhalt fee,
Wrapt in full blaze of pow'r and Majesty,
Ride on the clouds; whilft, as his chariot flies,
The bright effufion streams through all the skies.
|