THE MURMURERS. A POEM.

O fortunati nimium, bona si sua nôrint Angligenae!

LONDON, Printed for R. Baldwin. MDC LXXXIX.

THE PREFACE To all the WORLD.

AS I am not much oblig'd t'ye, so I don't much value your Censures, being a sort of a little Murmurer my self. And if you are as angry with me as I with you, 'twill be no great matter; for scold as loud as you please, I'm sure I shall be far enough out of hearing. However, I'd part as civilly as I can▪ and therefore don't much care if I've a word or two with you before I leave you. — For my Poem, take it as you find it. The Subject wou'd have born much better, and I'm sure you have read much worse. For most of the Cha­racters, they are so plain, if you are but Book-learn'd enough to be out of your Horn-book, you may guess who I [Page] mean by 'em. I don't care if I tell you Corah, Dathan, and Abiram are only Rovers, and take in all the Mur­murers, by whatever Names or Titles. By Balaam ▪ Mr. Bays, I mean your Worship! None c [...]n be igno­rant whom I mean by Phinehas; and 'tis but too well known who Aaron is. Sans Ceremony,

FAREWEL, Perhaps for ever

From aboard his Majesties Ship the — &.

The Murmurers: A POEM.

UNgrateful Israel, whom no Charms can bind,
No Terrors fright into a better mind:
Thy own, and all Humanity's Disgrace:
Ah, sinful, stiff-neck'd, moody, murmuring Race!
Doting on Miseries, in love with Pains!
Like thee were ever any mad for Chains?
Where are thy Groans when with the Bricks opprest?
Where all those sighs that heav'd thy lab'ring breast?
When without Straw thou thy full tale must pay,
Lamenting all the night, and fainting all the day;
When bending underneath th' unequal load,
Thy gasping Vows and Prayers conquer'd God?
So soon, alas! so soon hast thou forgot
Th' ungrateful Tyrant's cursed Wiles and Plot,
When bloody Pharao wou'd at once destroy
Each Father's pride, each Mothers tears and joy.
When Israel's hopes must Sacrifices be,
Black Tyrant! to thy savage Gods and thee:
Fit Gods for such a King, — the Crocodile,
And all the monstrous Spawn of teeming Nile.
Yet hear! for Heaven in mercy still delights:
O hear the Prophet, ere the Angel smites.
See Israel, see, what favours thou hast found
From Egypt's Court! see each ignoble wound,
[Page 2]Incorrigible Slaves! See the foul track
Of Whips and Burdens worn on every back;
Remember, — 'tis not yet, nor yet too late,
Yet step aside, and shun impending Fate.
Not even Pharao's Crown can [...]eil or hide
His Perjury, his Cruelty, and Pride.
Even Lucifer was sacred ere he fell,
But now the Wretch reigns absolute in Hell.
O that a King had never been so base!
Or truth wou'd let us hide or change his Face.
Why will his Murmurers thus their Lord expose,
And rob of that small Fame [...] has yet to lose?
'Twas never yet thought Sacriledge to rase
An Idol-Fane, but rather merits praise:
Or who, besides their Priests, will count it Sin
To burn the Dev'lish Gods ador'd therein?
By sure Succession Pharao fill'd the Throne,
His Race and Name to ancient Abraham known;
Tho his officious Courtiers call'd t' his aid
Long Dynasties before the World was made.
Thus, downwards, did his Daughter Scota grace
(The first blest Monarch of the Irish Race)
His Daughter, nor cou'd Apis give a Son,
Tho Heaven sent Moses, his adopted one.
The Daughter sav'd him must her Father drown,
And made him Heir to the Egyptian Crown;
Tho that too weak a bait for Moses prov'd,
Too well he Israel's God and Israel lov'd.
His injur'd Peoples woes too well he knew,
Too well he saw, and seeing felt 'em too.
He saw each Privilege and Grant was vain
Confirm'd in any other Pharao's Reign,
When the fair Compact was with Israel made,
And in blest Goshen `they might freely trade.
Good Ioseph now forgot, and all he did
In Clouds of Court-Oblivion wrapt and hid:
Altho too high his Gratitude had flown,
And made the Country Slaves to raise the Throne.
New Task-masters thro Egypt sent he saw,
And Pharao's Will was their unrighteous Law.
[Page 3] Israel they ground, still made the Land more thin,
And suck'd the last free drop of Blood therein.
He saw the brutish Idols they ador'd,
Which all their Rivers, Fields, and Gardens stor'd:
And Apis, who while Flowers and Herbs they strew'd,
The lazy Lubbar-God divinely low'd.
These miseries he saw, and all the rest,
And deep revolv'd in his sagacious breast.
He saw those happy days approach, foretold
So oft in holy Oracles of old,
When happy Israel shou'd be Slaves no more,
Nor Idol-Kings, nor Idol-Gods adore▪
No more their stupid Patience now be shown,
Nor labor in those Kingdoms not their own.
Own'd a fair Cause, nor wou'd the Tyrant please
For all the charms of Grandeur or of Ease.
He lov'd Reproach which did from Virtue rise,
For this he Egypt's Treasures did despise:
And when a curs'd Egyptian dar'd to smite
A Soul-less, poor, oppressed Israelite,
Unfear'd, he'd generously take his part,
And stab th' insulting faithless Wretches heart.
In Egypt's Wisdom skill'd, what they conceal'd
Even at one glance his piercing eyes reveal'd.
How many deep and noble Truths imprest
In mystic Figures on his Royal Breast!
Nor cou'd all Pharo's dark Magicians find
The Secrets of his Hieroglyphic Mind.
Grave in his Words▪ deliberate, wise, and slow,
Wise as his Thoughts, — but fast his Actions flow.
Thus Heaven's own Thunders murmur long and wide,
Ere they the Clouds, or guilty Man divide;
But in a moment, when the bolt's let fly,
Burst thro the Air, rattle round Earth and Sky.
Oft was his Courage known, and try'd before,
Near Meroe stain'd with Ethiopian Gore.
When that proud King whole Worlds of Men had pour'd
Thro trembling Nile, and half the Land devour'd,
He met, and check'd his growing rage and pride,
And drove him back thro Regions wast and wide
[Page 4]To the Recesses of his sun-burnt Soil,
As distant as the head of his own Nile.
And when return'd, with all these Trophies won,
As unconcern'd appear'd as if he'd nothing done.
Yet after this cou'd quietly retreat
From all the noisie Triumphs of the Great,
With Laurels tired, with Trophies over-press'd,
In God-like Solitude divinely blest.
Thee, Sinai-Mount, and Horeb Hills he trod,
And in the flaming Thicket talk'd with God.
There he Instructions had, and Courage too
For all the mighty things he was to do.
He came to drive and purge the guilty Land,
No Sword, no Spear, adorn'd or fenc'd his hand,
He only wav'd about the wondrous Wand.
He came, — th' Egyptian Gods before him fell,
And knew, and fled the God of Israel.
The trembling Waves no longer now cou'd stay,
His dread Commands the trembling Waves obey;
Back back they roll, and shew the secret way
Where great Leviathan his Court did keep,
And all the scaly Horrors of the Deep.
Their ancient Beds and Palaces they leave,
Which now more civil, humane Guests receive;
Grin thro the Crystal Walls, but cannot enter there,
Their monstrous teeth they gnash, their monstrous eye-balls glare.
Look back, glad Israel, now thou'rt safely o'er,
And see all Egypt stretch'd around the shore.
On every Sand and Rock expos'd they lay,
And all their Riches left, a second Prey.
Now more deform'd than even by Nature made,
Whilst a dead Pale did their old Black invade.
Grasping a Javelin here's a Carcass seen,
With the same face, the same fierce angry mien
With which he dy'd: there stretch'd upon the Sand
Another lies with threatning eyes and hand,
Who grin'd imperfect Murmurs as he fell,
And thro the hissing Ocean sunk to Hell.
[Page 5]And now, on Mother Nature's firmer Land
The mighty Leader of the chosen Band
Safely arriv'd, with grateful Heart and Tongue
Thus he, and thus deliver'd Israel sung:
HYmns of praise, glad Israel, sing
To our Saviour and our King.
Make your Songs and make your Boasts
Of the glorious Lord of Hosts,
Who triumphantly does ride
Over conquer'd Egypt's pride.
From his Chariot in the Cloud
He beholds and scorns the proud.
Down the thundring Horses fall,
Down the Rider, Horse and all,
And their Rendezvouzes keep
In the bosom of the Deep.
Thou, Jehova, art our King,
Thou our strength, and thee we'll sing.
Thou our God alone shalt be,
Our Salvation's only thee.
To thee we'll lofty Temples raise,
And ever sing Jehovas's praise,
Show his Acts and mighty Powers,
Our Fathers God as well as ours.
In our God we'll make our boasts,
Our God alone's the Lord of Hosts:
That's his name by which he's known,
That's his name, and his alone.
Pharao's Chariots, Egypt's Pride,
And all their Host, are scatter'd wide.
On the barren Beach they'r cast,
On the Rocks in pieces dash'd,
Whilst their mangled. Limbs and Gore
Double-dye the sanguine shore.
Down they like a Mill-stone fell,
Down they sunk as deep as Hell.
Worlds of Water drive away,
And shut out the distant day.
[Page 6]Wide and [...]ast is thy Command,
Glorious, Lord, is thy right [...]and:
Thy right hand thy Foes sure sate,
Crush'd beneath its vengeful weight.
All thy vain relucting Foes
Soon thy mighty Arm o'erthrows.
All that stubble dare engage
To meet and fight thy f [...]ry rage:
Soon must all their Strength expire
Who wrestle with consuming Fire.
The Voice of God the Waves can stay,
His Voice the trembling Waves obey:
Equal with the Cliffs on shore
Their solid Mountains break no more.
Heaps on heaps they climb and rise,
Till they reach the leaning Skies:
Liquid Marble's solid grown,
And all the Sea one Crystal stone.
Sure the Foe did Conquest make;
Thus he boasted, thus he spake,
I'll pursue and I'll o'ertake:
I ll the trembling spoil divide,
Glut my Lust, and glut my Pride;
I my conqu'ring Sword will draw,
That my Iustice, that my Law.
Drunk with Blood the Glutton shall
Smite, destroy, devour 'em all.
Ah, how weak must Mortals be
When they dare con [...]nd with thee!
Thou a thousand Rods canst find,
And they are weaker th [...]n the Wind.
Thou did'st cause thy Wind to blow,
And thou didst cause thy Sea's o'erflow:
Down like Lead i'th' Waves they fell,
Down they sunk as deep as Hell.
Who o'th' Gods compar'd can be,
Who, O Lord, is like to thee!
Thee thy groveling [...] confess
Glorious in thy Holiness,
Awful in that praise we give
To him we cannot see and live,
[Page 7]Since ev'n the Seraph when he sings
Veils his Face with both his Wings.
Nature knows thy dread right hand,
And obeys her Lord's Command:
Nor content, the greedy Waves,
In their dark Wombs to make their Graves
Further down they roll the Slaves
Under Earths unfathom'd Cell,
Where the Mother Waters dwell,
Where horrid Night her Court does keep
Among the Fountains of the Deep:
But in mercy forth thou'st led
That dear Flock which thou hast fed,
From the shades of [...]anging Night
Brought 'em out to lovely Light,
And shalt guide by thy right hand
To their bless'd, their promis'd Land,
Whilst the Nations round shall hear,
Shook with grief, and froze with fear,
Thee, proud Realm of Palestin
And all the Anakims therein.
Edom's Dukes in vain shall claim
Their Warlike Fathers mighty name:
They and Moab's Heroes too,
Amaz'd, both know not what to do,
Whilst thy curs'd Offspring, Canaan, run
And melt as Snow before the Sun:
Fear and dread their Arms shall charm
By the greatness of thy Arm:
Till as Stones or Lead they lye,
While thy chosen Folk pass by;
While they pass unsprinkled o'er
To wondring Jordan's distant shore.
Them thou'lt bring, and them advance
To thine own Inheritance;
To those paths by Abraham trod
In the holy Mount of God;
In the place which thou hast made,
In the Cherub's golden shade,
Where thou dost delight to dwell,
And bless thy own lov'd Israel;
[Page 8]In that Sanctuary where
Thou with a peculiar care
Scatter'st Blessings wide and fast,
Blessings which shall ever last;
Blessings which shall still remain,
And last as long as thou shalt reign.
And with glad Omens now the chosen Seed
For happy Canaan's blissful Regions speed,
The Way but short, the Road direct and fair,
Wine, Oyl, and Milk, and Honey wait 'em there;
Trophies and Laurels, and a fertile Soil,
The wish'd Reward of all their former Toil.
What can obstruct 'em now?— the Egyptian Host,
Pharao and all his Army's broke and lost.
For that rank Diet Egypt wou'd afford,
Those Onions which defil'd and spread their Board,
From Heaven's own Table they were now maintain'd,
And round their Tents celestial Manna rain'd:
Manna, that gustful, that miraculous meat,
That best, that wondrous Food which Angels eat.
Pure and sincere, no relish of gross Earth,
The taste, th' effects, confess its heav'nly birth:
No Pains from hence, no sad Diseases flow,
As from our drossy mortal Food below;
Enough for all, enough for none to wast,
And still agreeable to every Taste:
The Quintessence of all that's good and sweet,
Noble or high, or grateful, in it meet.
The News the Heathen Nations did confound,
And scatter'd Terror far and wide around.
Israel in Safety dwelt, in Peace and Bliss,
Moses their Leader, as an Angel his.
What further cou'd their Happiness destroy,
Allay their Pleasure, or disturb their Joy,
When the long-wish'd, long-promis'd Time appears,
And brought, in decent Ranks, the harness'd Years?
Heav'n is their Friend, obsequious Earth bows low
To be their Slave. — None but themselves their Foe.
On cluster'd Iordan's Rivage now they stand,
And just beyond survey blest Canaan's Land.
[Page 9]Rivers of Honey and of Nectar glide
Along the laughing Fields, and by their side,
Here creep sweet Flow'rs, there climbs the lofty Vine
Whose ponderous Grapes are big with generous Wine.
Here trembling Nations on their Knees await
Those Masters long before decreed by Fate.
O Joy, O Glory! Warriors noble Pride!
When Israel's Sons o'er captive Kings shall ride:
Them at Megiddo, or at Iabesh meet,
And crush their stubborn Necks beneath their Feet.
Scarce is their choice to dye, or to obey,
Sihon and Og already lead the way.
But ah! too soon the blooming hopes were cross'd
And all their freshly springing Laurels lost:
Heav'n ne'er necessitates to good or ill,
Nor will it save Mankind against his Will.
The giddy Crowd resolve to conquer Fate,
And both their Manna, and their Canaan hate;
From their long-wish'd Salvation fain wou'd fly,
Sigh, weep, and murmur still, they know not why.
Some by the Genius of their Nation spoil'd,
And ruin'd by a Heav'n too calm and mild;
Iesurun kick'd, because too fat and fair,
Nor wou'd the wanton Wretch his Master spare;
Moses was meek, which they interpret dull,
And Heav'n was blind, because 'twas merciful.
For Pharao and Apis they lament again,
And rather chuse a Stork than Log should reign:
Wretches! of a forgiving Prince take care,
Long my urg'd Goodness how ye tempt beware:
Remember ancient Kishon's blushing Shore
O'erflown with Idol-dust and Rebels Gore.
Serpents and Plagues the disobedient wait,
Or gaping Earth presents a blacker Fate.
Out of meer dullness others damn'd wou'd be,
And others out of meer civility,
Pity, they thought, to spoil good Company.
Before the golden Calf they blindly bow,
And grop'd the way to Hell, they knew not how.
[Page 10]Old malleable Block-heads others are,
Born with a Back and Ears like Issachar:
Since Rest is good, why should they not lie still,
Let their old Masters load 'em how they will?
Tho not long since those Burdens did displease,
And then how did they bray to Heav'n for Ease;
To any other shape desir'd to pass,
A Horse, a Swine, any thing but an Ass.
Others, tho in their Hearts Egyptians still,
From Egypt crowded up against their Will;
I'th' wondrous Turn born swiftly down the Stream,
And only thought the Miracle a Dream,
Wak'd from th' Amaze, look back to Nile's rich Shore,
And still, in secret, Egypt's Gods adore.
Plain Cowards others, Egypt's Threats they hear,
And backwards look, not out of love, but fear.
(Ridiculous Fools, — nor e'er were Cowards wise.)
Lest Pharao and his Host again shou'd rise.
Their hands to Bricks, and not to Swords enur'd,
They'd hedge their Betts, on either side secur'd.
True Bats, whom yet no Side nor Standard knows,
Those Beasts of Birds are neither Friends nor Foes.
Some, who old Pharao's Task-masters were made,
Nor cou'd with ease forget their ancient Trade,
Defend their Deeds, and wou'd repeat the same,
And long to be again at their old Game.
The Sanhedrim's Revenge some justly dread,
And Moses Sword that glitters o'er their Head,
On further Ills precipitately run
To make those safe which they've already done.
Wickedly pious, others think it Sin
To shake those Shackles off they've once been in:
Unconscionably good, their want of Sense
And Courage both they charge on Providence;
They'll give it leave to fix a Tyrant's Crown,
And set him up, but not to pull him down.
When Deaths and Plagues it brings, they must submit,
But not if it thinks Peace and Plenty fit.
They a mere Moloch make of Israel's God,
And give no Scepter, but an Iron Rod.
[Page 11]Those who against God's Laws and Man's rebel,
And take their Power not from Heav'n, but Hell;
(For the All-good wou'd ne'er his Creatures bind
To what's a general Curse to all Mankind,)
These Devils, like the Indians, they adore,
Nay worse than them, still beg they'd plague 'em more:
Their stiff-neck'd Asses Loyalty they boast,
Proud of that Skin which they've by bearing lost;
As Highway Beggars groveling on the ground,
Take pride t' expose some nauseous, stinking Wound:
If you'd to Hospitals the Wretches bear
They'll scorn your Kindness, and rot cheaper there.
But if some God-like Hero Heav'n provide,
And sends him thundring from th' Almighty's side,
Bad Men to crush, and Virtuous to reward,
With Troops of Angels for his glorious Guard,
To save a sinking Nation, State and Laws
From sure Destructions greedy rav'ning Jaws,
Their cross-grain'd Piety still comes i'th' way,
Flounces, and starts, and chafes, and won't obey.
Th' other Extream, less gravely mad than these,
In truth, God more than Moses does displease;
Ten whole Commands? If this Religion be,
Ev'n Pharao made 'em easier Slaves than he.
What tho thick Clogs on Neeks and Legs they wore,
They then might creditably Swear and Whore:
They needs must say the gen'rous Tyrant still
Left 'em free liberty of doing ill.
No Shelomith's Son for Blasphemy was ston'd,
No bleeding Zimri e'r in Egypt groan'd.
Less bad than these, for Honor some contend,
So long offending they'r asham'd to mend.
Humanity's too common Weakness known,
Which all experience, tho but few will own.
Some who stood firm for Israel's Liberty,
Alter'd, nor they, nor all the World know why;
Whether from secret Emulation sprung
Th' unhappy Change, or from some pois'nous Tongue;
Or whether more to Rest by Age inclin'd,
Infirm'd alike in Body and in Mind.
[Page 12]How vain a thing is Greatness, and the blast
Of pop'lar Fame? how short a while they last?
'Tis dang'rous to be high, for Mortals then,
Almost the Envy grow of Gods and Men.
Great Aaron was i'th' holy Vestments clad,
The first High priest that e'er sav'd Israel had;
The holy Oyl in plenteous Streams was shed,
The holy Mitre grac'd his rev'rend Head;
Urim and Thummim did his Breast adorn,
The holy Ephod on his Shoulders worn:
Aaron, who dar'd fierce Pharao meet, and tell
The Grievances of groaning Israel.
Who then like him durst stem the raging Tide
Of Egypt's Cruelty, Despair, and Pride?
Th' ungrateful Tyrant's still returning Rod:
The Mouth of Moses, and the Mouth of God.
O Father! O sad Israel's Grief and Love,
Why didst thou move so far, or why no farther move?
Curst be that Son, and he deserves no less
Who dares disclose his Father's Nakedness;
Tho Israel too, by Aaron's naked made,
When they forsaken Egypt's Gods obey'd.
O draw a Veil, a thick, a dusky cloud,
Before the Calf, before the kneeling Crowd.
The stiff-neck'd Crowd, which has no Grace, no Shame,
No Sense, no Weight, no Reason, but thy Name.
Why shou'd we hear? Why shou'd we see and live,
That deep, deep Stain which Heav'n can ne'er forgive?
Unrein thy Satyr, Muse, and give a vent
To all thy just Revenge and Discontent.
Corah is next, nor can we him abuse;
May Corah's spiteful Soul inspire my Muse.
Pride and Ambition in his Bosom dwell,
And all the twisted Fiends of Earth and Hell.
Revenge and Envy, and his Lusts defeat,
And every Fury that attends the Great.
He was, he wou'd be so—tho near the Throne,
Wou'd justle out his Prince and reign alone.
Jehova the pretence, tho he'd not care,
Nor blush, tho ev'n Jehova's self were there.
[Page 13]The old Idolatry he has refin'd,
God in his Mouth, but Apis in his Mind.
The Congregation's holy, (that's the Tool
With which he works) and why shou'd Moses rule?
He takes too much upon him, but must know,
We'll no Allegiance pay, as none we owe.
Snarl on, curst Corah, still blaspheme and rave,
And patient Earth, and patient Heav'n out-brave:
Thy little Faction to the rest oppose,
And stigmatize thy own as Israel's Foes.
The day of Vengeance comes,—the blackning Sky
With dark red Gleams declares the day of Vengeance nigh.
With him Abiram and sly Dathan join'd,
Plain honest Men,—the publick Good design'd:
Mind their own business, murmur in their Tent,
And sigh at Moses his Mis-government.
Thus by a false Simplicity, with ease
They lead the Congregation how they please.
Dathan begins,— Nor wou'd I Egypt chuse,
Nor wou'd, dear Country-men! this Manna lose:
Moses, 'tis true, has a good Action done;
Who envies him those Laurels which h' has won?
Tho 'twas his Interest too we must confess,
'Twas a brave Undertaking—ne'ertheless.
Nor will he a free People sure inslave,
Who ask'd his Aid from others them to save.
Yet can't we but reflect, with Manna cloy'd,
However good, on what we once enjoy'd,
Egyptian Dainties, lovely savoury Fare,
Garlick and Onions, in such plenty there;
Delicates so divine, that, truth to say,
I'd them almost adore as well as they.
Altho the Levites tell us 'tis a Cheat
One hour to worship what the next we eat,
In all Religions some things dark there be,
And this is an Egyptian Mystery.
For Pharao—true that all things were not well,
—He was misled—but must we then rebel?
The Subjects, as i'th' sacred Rolls appears,
To Egypt's Crown, almost four hundred Years.
[Page 14]Thus he,—but mad Abiram swears and raves,
We will not, no by Heav'n, we won't be Slaves.
Whom we have made, we can as soon unmake,
And what with ease we gave, with ease can take:
What has he done?—what mighty Action since?
Moses,—that thinking, that unthinking Prince.
He, and his Sanhedrin, supine and still,
What have they done that's good? how much that's ill.
They cannot, dare not touch us, no, they fear
That Pharao yet shou'd overtake 'em here.
I'm for a Tyrant, or an Anarchy,
Pharao my King, or I'll be King of me.
Go on! swear, flatter, lie, dissemble, rave,
And the next step, the very next's the Grave:
You cannot 'scape—Nature's black horrid Womb
Labors with Earthquakes to bring forth your Tomb.
It rives, it gapes, you screech, you fall, you go
To murmur with your Fellow-Fiends below.
Nor shall even Heathen Balaam be forgot,
Nor his curst Midianitish Wives and Plot.
(Even Balaam's Ass cou'd preach, and since we find
Taught other Brutes, the Panther and the Hind.)
Dearly he lov'd the Wages of Deceit,
And God's own Israel did as dearly hate.
A Sorcerer, who any thing cou'd be,
Transform'd, as quick as thought, t' a Bird, a Tree,
And e'er his monstrous Shapes you throughly scan,
Be that unfeather'd two leg'd thing a Man.
But then what sweet, what charming Notes he sung,
What Honey drop'd from his false Syren Tongue.
Wou'd Angels chuse in mortal Verse to raise
Ours, and their own eternal Master's Praise,
To Balaam's Words they'd tune their heav'nly Airs,
Thy Songs, thy Language, Balaam, shou'd be theirs.
Why would'st thou Israel curse, ah Balaam! why,
Nor with the Righteous live as well as dye?
Why with thy soft bewitching Arts betray
To Midianitish Gods and Wives a Prey?
[Page 15]From Hill to Hill why didst with Balaak go
To enchant and curse when Heav'n commanded No.
Ah! hadst thou Israel's God indeed ador'd,
Hadst thou in earnest fear'd th' eternal Lord,
Thy Songs so sweet, thy Numbers so divine,
Scarce Moses Song had won more Fame than thine:
But now thy Glory sleeps in Shades profound,
Fy Fate and gloomy Death encompass'd round.
Now, Muse, the smoother Arts of Praising try,
Tho our hard Fortunes there Success deny:
Sour all our Soul, hardly one Stroke that's fair,
One single Line or Feature pleasing there.
This sure will happier Images create,
And force one short-liv'd Joy in spite of Fate.
Together summon all that's sweet and fine,
Let the bright Field with such calm Glories shine,
As Fancy prints around a Form divine.
That rosie smile which decks a much lov'd Face,
That Beauty ineffable, that more than humane Grace,
Tho all together mix'd exactly be,
Yet, God-like Phinehas, all come short of Thee.
Thy Mien does Awe and Admiration move
With such a purple Blush the Angels love:
Just such a radiant Gloom his Face adorns
As paints the East in Summers rising Morns;
His Soul is in his Body well design'd,
His Face the lively Image of his Mind:
Of honorable Stock and ancient House;
His Youthful Laurels shade his Manly Brows:
No tame Passivity did him disgrace,
Nor did his Doctrine e'er belye his Face.
God made him Man, nor wou'd h' himself debase
And enter of the brutish bearing Race:
With Hand, as well as Tongue, he'd the Gainsayers strike,
He drew both Swords, and us'd them both alike.
His Zeal to God did rather much improve
Than check or stifle his dear Country's Love.
When both at once engag'd, he livelier grew,
And double Strength from the fair Quarrel drew.
[Page 16]See where God's Champion does undaunted stand,
A shining Javelin in his mighty hand,
Stop'd Heav'ns high Arm, when it did just engage,
And stay'd the Plague, as it began to rage.
Eternal Praises are to Phinehas due,
His Name shall live, if Truth it self be true.
O may that God of Hosts, who oft did bless
His rightful Arms with their deserv'd Success,
A double Portion of his Spirit bestow
On every meaner Priest that serves below;
With such a noble warmth their Minds inflame,
And grant their Courage as their Cause the same.
Fain wou'd I all the other Heroes trace,
The Glory and the Pride of Iacob's Race,
Who still'd those Murm'rers which refus'd to fight
Against the faint devoted Canaanite;
Caleb and Ioshua, and a numerous Train,
Who never counsell'd, never fought in vain.
But hasty Fate allows no longer stay,
It stops my Pen, and pulls my Hand away.
FINIS.

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