But made his Politicks the baneful RootFrom whence the springing Woes ofIsraelshoot,When his Great Masters fatalGordiantyed,He lai’d the barrenMichalby his side;That the ador’dAbsolonsimmortal LineMight onJudeasThrone for ever shine.
NextJonasstands bull-fac’d, but chicken-soul’d,Who once the silver Sanedrin Controul’d,Their Gold-tip’d Tongue; Gold his great Councels Bawd:Till by succeeding Sanedrins outlaw’d,He was prefer’d to guard the sacred Store:There Lordly rowling in whole Mines of Oar;To Diceing Lords, a Cully-Favourite,He prostitutes wholeCargoesin a Night.Here to the Top of his Ambition come,Fills all his Sayls for hopefulAbsolom.For his Religion’s as the Season calls,Gods in Possession, in ReversionBaals.He bears himself a Dove to Mortal Race,And though not Man, he can look Heav’n i’th’ Face.Never was Compound of more different Stuff,A Heart in Lambskin, and a Conscience Buff.
Let not that Hideous Bulk of Honour scape,Nadabthat sets the gazing Crowd agape:That old Kirk-founder, whose course Croak could singThe Saints, the Cause, no Bishop, and no King:32When Greatness clear’d his Throat, and scowr’d his Maw,Roard out Succession, and the Penal Law.Not so of old: another sound went forth,When in the Region fromJudeaNorth,By the TriumphantSaulhe was employ’d,A huge fang Tusk to goar poorDavidsside.Like a Proboscis in the Tyrants Jaw,To rend and root through Government and Law.
Nor does the Courts long Sun so powerful shine,T’exhale his Vapours, or his Dross refine;Nor is the Metal mended by the stamp.With his rank oyl he feeds the Royal Lamp.To Sanedrins an everlasting Foe,Resolv’d his Mighty Hunters overthrow.And true to Tyranny, as th’only Jem,That truly sparkles in a Diadem;ToAbsalonsside does his oldCovenantbring,WithStateraz’d out, and interlin’d withKING.ButNadabsZeal has too severe a Doom;Whilst serving an ungratefulAbsalom,His strength all spent his Greatness to create,He’s now laid by a cast-out Drone of State.He rowz’d that Game by which he is undone,By fleeter Coursers now so far outrun,That fiercer MightierNimrodin the Chace,Till quite thrown out, and lost he quits the Race.
Of Low-born Tools we bawlingShimeisaw,Jerusalemslate loud-tongu’dMOUTHof Law.By Blessings from Almighty Bounty given,Shimeino common Favorite of Heaven.Whom, lest Posterity should loose the Breed,In five short Moons indulgent Heav’n rais’d Seed;Made happy in an Early teeming Bride,And laid a lovely Heiress by her side.
33’Twas inJerusalemwasShimeinurst,JerusalembyBaalsProphets ever curst,The greatest Block that stops ’em in their way,For which she once in Dust and Ashes lay.Here to the Bar this whiffling Lurcher came,And barkt to rowze the nobler Hunters Game.ButShimei’sLungs might well be stretcht so far;For steering by a Court-Ascendant Star,For daily Oracles he does address,To theEgyptianBeauteous Sorceress.ForPharoahwhen he wisely did essayTo bear the long-sought Golden Prize away,That fair Enchantress sent, whose Magick SkillShould keep greatIsraelssleeping Dragon still.
Of all the Heroes since the world began,ToShimei Joshuahwas the bravest Man.To Him his Tutelar Saint he prays, and oh,That greatJerusalemwere likeJericoh!Then bellowing lowd forJoshuahsSpirit calls,Because his Rams-horn blew down City-Walls.
In the same Roll have we graveCorahseen,Corah, the late chief ScarletAbbethdin.Corah, who luckily i’th’ Bench was got,Toloothe Bloodhounds off to save the Plot.Corah, who once againstBaalsImpious Cause,Stood strong forIsraelsFaith andDavidsLaws.He poys’d his Scales, and shook his ponderous Sword,Lowd as his FathersBasan-Bulls he roar’d;Till by a Dose of ForreignOphirdrencht,The Feavour of his Burning Zeal was Quencht.Ophir, that rescu’d the Court-Drugsters Fate,Sent in the Nick to gild his Pills of State.Whilst the kind Skill of our Law-Emperick,Sublim’d his Mercury to save his Neck.In Law, they say, he had but a slender Mite,And Sense he had less: for as Historians write,TheArabianLegate laid a Snare so gay,As Spirited his little Wits away.34Of the Records of Law he fancied noneLike the Commandment Tables graved in Stone.And wish’d theTalmudesuch, that Soveraign swayWhen once displeased might th’angryMosesplay.Onely his Law was Brittle i’th’ wrong place:For had ourCorahbeen inMosesCase,The Fury of his Zeal had been employ’dTo build that Calf which th’others Rage destroy’d.ThusCorah, Baalstrue Fayry Changeling made,He Bleated onely as thePhariseespray’d,All to advance that future Tyrant pow’r,Should Widows Houses gorge, and Orphans Tears devour.
Nor are these all their Instruments; to propTheir Mighty Cause, andIsraelsMurmurs stop;They find a sort of Academick Tools;Who by the Politick Doctrine of their Schools,Betwixt Reward, Pride, Avarice, Hope and Fear,Prizing their Heav’n too cheap, the World too dear,Stand bold and strong forAbsolonsDefence:Interest the Thing, but Conscience the Pretence.These to ensure him for theirSionsKing,A Right Divine quite down fromAdambring,That old Levitick Engine of Renown,That makes no Taint of Souls a bar t’a Crown.’Tis true, Religions constant Champion vow’d,Each open-mouth’d, with Pulpit-Thunder lowd,Against false Gods, and Idol Temples bawls;Yet lays the very Stones that raise their Walls.They preach up Hell to those thatBaaladore,Yet make’t Damnation to oppose his pow’r.So far this Paradox of Conscience run,TillIsraelsFaith pullsIsraelsAltars down.Grant Heav’n they don’t toBaalso far make way,Those fatalWandsbefore their Sheepfolds lay.Such Motley Principles amongst them thrown,Shall nurse that Py-ball’d Flock that’s half his own.Nor may they say, whenMolocksHands draw nigher,We built the Pile, whilstBaalbut gives it fire.
If Monarchy inAdamfirst begun,When the Worlds Monarch dug, and his Queen spun,35His Fig-leaves his first Coronation-Robe,His Spade his Scepter, and her Wheel his Globe;And Royal Birthright, as their Schools assert,Not Kings themselves with Conscience can divert;How came the World possest byAdamsSons,Such various Principalities, Powres, Thrones?When each went out and chose what Lands he pleas’d,Whilst a new Family new Kingdoms rais’d?
O cruel Right Divine, more full of Fate,Then th’ Angels flaming Sword atEdensGate,Such early Treason through Mankind convey’d,And at the door of Infant-Nature layd.For Right Divine inEsau’sjust defence,Why don’t they quarrel with Omnipotence,The first-bornEsau’sRight toJacobgiv’n,And Gods gift too, Injustice charge on Heav’n.Nay, let Heav’n answer this one Fact alone,Mounting a BastardJephthaon a Throne.If Kings and Sanedrims those Laws could make,Which from offending Heirs their Heads can take;And a First-born can forfeit Life and Throne,And all by Law: why not a Crown alone?Strange-bounded Law-makers! whose pow’r can throwThe deadlier Bolt, can’t give the weaker Blow.A Treasonous Act; nay, but a Treasonous BreathAgainst offended Majesty is Death.But, oh! the wondrous Church-distinction givenBetween the Majesty of Kings and Heav’n!The venial sinner here, he that intreaguesWithEgypt, Babylon; Cabals, Plots, LeaguesWithIsraelsFoes her Altars to destroy,A Hair untouch’d, shall Health, Peace, Crowns enjoy.
Truths Temple thus the Exhalations bredFrom her own Bowels, to obscure her Head.36AndAbsolomalready had subdu’dWhole Crowds of the unthinking Multitude.But through these Wiles too weak to catch the Wise,Thin as their Ephod-Lawn, a Cobweb Net for Flyes,The searching Sanedrim saw; and to dispelTh’ingendring Mists that threatnedIsrael,They still resolv’d their Plotting Foes defeat,By barringAbsolonth’Imperial Seat.
But here’s his greatest Tug; could he but makeTh’encludingSanedrims Resolves once shake;Nay, make the smallest Breach, or clashing Jar,In their great Councel, push but home so far,And the great Point’s secur’d.——And, lo! amongThe Princely Heads of that Illustrious Throng,He saw rich Veins with Noble Blood new fill’d;Others who Honour from Dependance held.Some with exhausted Fortunes, to supportTheir Greatness, propt with Crutches from a Court.These for their Countries Right their Votes still pass,Mov’d like the Water in a Weather-glass,Higher or lower, as the powerful CharmO’th’ Soveraign Hand is either cool or warm.Here must th’Attacque be made: for well we know,Reason and Titles from one Fountain flow:Whilst Favour Men no less than Fortunes builds,And Honour ever Moulds as well as Guilds.Honour that still does even new Souls inspire;Honour more powerful than the Heav’n-stoln Fire.These must be wrought toAbsolonsDefence.For though to baffle the whole Sanedrims Sence,T’attempt Impossibles would be in vain,Yet ’tis enough but toDivideandRaign.
Here though small Force such easie Converts draws,Yet ’tis thought fit in glory to their Cause,Some learned Champion of prodigious Sense,With Mighty and long studyed Eloquence,Should with a kind of Inspiration rise,And the unguarded Sanedrim surprize,
37For this Design no Head nor Tongue so well,As that of the profoundAchitophel.How, greatAchitophel! his Hand, his Tongue!BabylonsMortal Foe; he who so longWith haughty Sullenness, and scornful Lowr,Had loath’d false Gods, and Arbitrary pow’r.’GainstBaalno Combatant more fierce than he;ForIsraelsasserted Liberty,No Man more bold; with generous Rage enflam’d,Against the old ensnaring Test declaim’d.Beside, he bore a most peculiar HateTo sleeping Pilots, all Earth-clods of State.None more abhorr’d the Sycophant Buffoon,And Parasite, th’excrescence of a Throne;Creatures who their creating Sun disgrace,A Brood more abject thanNilesSlime-born Race.Such was the BraveAchitophel; a Mind,(If but the Heart and Face were of a kind)So far from being by one base Thought deprav’d,That sure half ten such Souls hadSodomsav’d.HereBaalsCabalAchitophelsurvey’d,And dasht with wonder, half despairing said,Is this the Hand thatAbsolonmust Crown,The Founder of his Temples, Palace, Throne?This, This the mighty Convert we must make?Gods, h’has a Soul not all our Arts can shake.
At this a nicer graver Head stept out,And with this Language chid their groundless Doubt:For shame, no more; what is’t that frights you thus?Is it his Hatred of our God, and us,Makes him so formidable in your Eye?Or is’t his Wit, Sense, Honour, Bravery?Give him a thousand Virtues more, and plantThem round him like a Wall of Adamant,Strong as the Gates of Heaven; we’ll reach his Heart:Cheer, cheer, my Friends, I’ve found one Mortal part.For he hasPride, a vast insatiatePride,Kind Stark, he’s vulnerable on that side.Pride that made Angels fall, and pride that hurl’dEntayl’d Destruction through a ruin’d World.38Adamfrom Pride to Disobedience ran:To be like Gods, made a lost wretched Man.There, there, my Sons, let our pour’d strength all fly:For some bold Tempter now to rap him high,From Pinnacles to Mountain Top, and showThe gaudy Glories of the World below.
At which the Consult came to this Design,To work him by a kind of Touch Divine.To raise some holy Spright to do the Feat.Nothing like Dreams and Visions to the Great.Did not a little Witch ofEndorbringA Visionary Seer t’a cheated King?And shall their greater Magick want Success,Their more Illustrious Sorceries do less!
Thisfinal Resolution made, at lastSome Mystick words, and invocations past,They call’d the Spirit of a late Court-Scribe;Once a true Servant of the Plotting Tribe:When both with Forreign and Domestick Cost,He plaid the feasted Sanedrims kind Host.H’had scribbled much, and like a Patriot bold,Bid high forIsraelsPeace withEgyptsGold.But since a Martyr. (Why! as Writers think,His Masters Hand had over-gall’d his Ink.)And by protestingAbsolomswise care,Popt into Brimstone ere he was aware.Him from the Grave they rais’d, in ample kind,His sever’d Head to his seer Quarters joyn’d;Then cas’d his Chin in a false Beard so well,As made him pass for FatherSamuel.Him thus equipt in a Religious Cloak,They thus his new-made Reverence bespoke.
Go, awful Spright, hast toAchitophel,Rouze his great Soul, use every Art, Charm, Spell:ForAbsolomthy utmost Rhetorick try,Preach him Succession, roar’d Succession cry,Succession drest in all her glorious pride,Succession Worshipt, Sainted, Deify’d.39Conjure him by Divine and Humane Pow’rs,Convince, Convert, Confound, make him but ours,ThatAbsolonmay mount onJudahsThrone,Whilst all the World before us is our own.
The forward Spright but few Instructions lackt,Strait by the Moons pale light away he packt,And in a trice, his Curtains open’d wide,He sate him byAchitophelsBed-side.And in this style his artful Accents ran.
HearIsraelsHope, thou more than happy Man,Beloved on high, witness this Honour doneBy FatherSamuel, and believe me, Son,’Tis by no common Mandate of a God,A Soul beatifyed, the blest AbodeThus low deserting, quits Immortal Thrones,And from his Grave resumes his sleeping Bones.But Heavn’s the Guide, and wondrous is the way,Divine the Embassie: hear, and obey.How long,Achitophel, and how profoundA Mist of Hell has thy lost Reason drown’d?Can the Apostacy fromIsraelsFaith,InIsraelsHeir, deserve a murmuring Breath?Or to preserve Religion, Liberty,Peace, Nations, Souls, is that a Cause so high,As the Right Heir from Empire to debar?Forbid it Heav’n, and guard him every Star.Alas, what if an Heir of Royal Race,Gods Glory and his Temples will deface,And make a prey of your Estates, Lives, Laws;Nay, give your Sons toMolocksburning paws;Shall you exclude him? hold that Impious Hand.AsAbrahamgave his Son at Gods Command,Think still he does byDivine Rightsucceed:God bids Him Reign, and you should bid Them Bleed.’Tis true, as Heav’ns Elected Flock, you mayFor his Conversion, and your SafetyprayBut Pray’rs are all. To Disinherit him,The very Thought, nay, Word it self’s a Crime.For that’s theMEANSof Safety: but forbear,For Means are Impious in the Sons of Pray’r.40To Miracles alone your Safety owe;AndAbrahamsAngel wait to stop the Blow.Yes, what if his polluted Throne be strowdWith Sacriledge, Idolatry, and Blood;And ’tis you mount him there; you’re innocent still:For he’s a King, and Kings can do no ill.Oh Royal Birthright, ’tis a Sacred Name:Rowze thenAchitophel, rowze up for shame:Let not this Lethargy thy Soul benum;But wake, and save the GodlikeAbsolom.And to reward thee for a Deed so greatGlut thy Desires, thy full-crown’d wishes meet,Be with accumulated Honours blest,And grasp aSTARt’adorn thy shining Crest.
Achitophelbefore his Eyes could ope,Dreamt of an Ephod, Mitre, and a Cope.Those visionary Robes t’his Eyes appear’d:For Priestly all was the great Sense he heard.But Priest or Prophet, Right Divine, or allTogether; ’twas not at their feebler call,’Twas at theStarhe wak’d; theStarbut nam’d,Flasht in his Eyes, and his rowz’d Soul enflam’d.AStar, whose Influence had more powerful Light,Then that Miraculous Wanderer of the Night,Decreed to guide the Eastern Sages way:Their’s to adore a God, his to betray.
Here the new Convert more than half inspir’d,Strait to his Closet and his Books retir’d.There for all needful Arts in this extreme,For knotty Sophistry t’a limber Theme,Long brooding ere the Mass to Shape was brought,And after many a tugging heaving Thought,Together a well-orderd Speech he draws,With ponderous Sounds for his much-labour’d Cause.Then the astonisht Sanedrim he storm’d,And with such doughty strength the Tug perform’d:Fate did the Work with so much Conquest bless,Wondrous the Champion, Glorious the Success.So powerful Eloquence, so strong was Wit;And with such Force the easie Wind-falls hit.
41But the entirest Hearts his Cause could steal,Were the Levitick Chiefs ofIsrael.None with more Rage the Impious Thought run downOf barringAbsolon, Pow’r, Wishes, Crown.With so much vehemence, such fiery Zeal!Oh, poor unhappy Church ofIsrael!Thou feelst the Fate of the Arch-angels Wars,The Dragons Tayl sweeps down thy Falling Stars.Nay, the black Vote ’gainstAbsolonappear’dSo monstrous, that they damn’d it ere ’twas heard.For Prelates ne’r in Sanedrims debate,They argue in the Church, but not i’th’ State;And when their Thoughts aslant towards Heav’n they turn,They weigh each Grain of Incense that they burn,But t’Heavens Vice-gerents, Soul, Sense, Reason, all,Or right or wrong, like Hecatombs must fall.And when State-business calls their Thoughts below,Then like their own Church-Organ-Pipes they go.NotDavidsLyre could more his Touch obey:For as their Princes breathe and strike, they play.
All Acts of Supreme Power they still admire:’Tis Sacred, though to set the World on Fire,Though Church-Infallibility they explode,As making Humane knowledge equal God;Infallible in a new name goes down,Not in the Mitre lodged, but in the Crown.’Tis true, blestDeborahsLaws they could forget:(But want of Memory commends their Wit.)Where ’twas enacted Treason, not to ownHers and her Sanedrins right to place the Crown.But her weak Heads oth’ Church, mistaken fools,Wanted the Light of their sublimer Schools:
Besides, they’ve sense of Honour; and who knowsHow far the Gratitude of Priest-craft goes?42And what if now like oldElishafed,To praise the Sooty Bird that brought ’em Bread,In pure acknowledgment, though in despightOf their own sense, they paint the Raven White.
Achitophelcharm’d with kind Fortunes Smiles,Flusht with Success, now glows for bolder Toyls.Great Wits perverted greatest Mischiefs hold,As poysonous Vapors spring from Mines of Gold.And proud to see himself with Triumph blest,Thus to greatAbsolomhimself addrest.
Illustrious Terrour of the World, all hayle:For ever like your Conquering Self prevaile.In spight of Malice in full Luster shine;Be your each Action, Word, and Look Divine,Nay, though our Altars you’ve so long forborne;To your derided Foes Defeat, and Scorne,For your Renown we have those Trumpets found,Shall ev’n this Deed your highest Glory sound.That spight of the ill-judging Worlds mistake,Your Soul still owns those Temples you forsake:Onely by all-commanding Honour driven,This self-denial you have made with Heav’n:Quitting our Altars, cause the InsolenceOf prophane Sanedrims has driven you thence.A Prince his Faith to such low Slaves reveal!’Twas Treason though to God to bid You kneel.
Let ’em rayl on; and to strike Envy dumb;May the Slaves live till that great Day shall come,When their husht Rage shall your keen Vengeance fly,And silenc’d with your Royal Thunder dye.Nay, to outsoar your weak Fore-fathers Wings,And to be all that Nature first meant Kings;Damn’d be the Law that Majesty confines,But doubly damn’d accursed Sanedrins,Invented onely to eclipse a Crown.Oh throw that dull Mosaick Land-mark down.43The making Sanedrims a part of Pow’r,Nurst but those Vipers which its Sire devour.Lodg’d in the Pallace tow’rds the Throne they press,For Pow’rs Enjoyment does its Lust increase.Allegiance onely is in Chains held fast;Make Men ne’re thirst, is ne’re to let ’em tast.Then, Royal Sir, be Sanedrims no more,Lop off that rank Luxurious Branch of pow’r:Those hungryScionsfrom theCedarroot,That its Imperial Head towards Heav’n may shoot.When Lordly Sanedrims with Kings give Law,And thus in yokes like Mules together draw;FromJudahsArms the Royal Lyon raze,AndIssacharsdull Ass supply the place.If Kings o’re common Mankind have this odds,Are Gods Vicegerents; let ’em act like Gods.As Man is Heav’ns own clay, which it may mouldFor Honour or Dishonour, uncontrould,And Monarchy is mov’d by Heav’nly Springs;Why is not Humane Fate i’th’ Breath of Kings?Then, Sir, from Heav’n your great Example take,And be th’unbounded Lord a King should make:Resume what bold Invading Slaves engrost,And onely Pow’rs Effeminacy lost.
To this kindAbsolombut little spoke;Onely return’d a Nod, and gracious Look.For though recorded Fame with pride has told,Of his great Actings, Wonders manifold;And his great Thinkings most Diviners guess;Yet his great Speakings no Records express.
All things thus safe; and now for one last blow,To give his Foes a total Overthrow;A Blow not in Hells Legends match’d before,The remov’d Plot’s laid at the Enemies door.The old Plot forg’d against the Saints ofBaal,Cheat, Perjury, and Subornation all,Whilst with a more damn’d Treason of their own,Like working Moles they’re digging round the Throne;Baal,Baal, the cry, andAbsolomthe Name,ButDavidsglory, Life and Crown the Aim.44Nay, if but a Petition peep abroad,Though for the Glory both of Church and God,And to preserve even their yet unborn Heirs;There’s Blood and Treason in their very Prayers.This unexampled Impudence upheld;The Governments best Friends, the Crowns best Sheild,The Great and Brave with equal Treason brands.Faith, Honour, and Allegiance strongest BandsAll broken like the Cords ofSampsonfall,Whilst th’universal Leprosie taints all.These poysonous shafts with greater spleen they draw,Than the Outragious Wife ofPotypha.So the chastJosephunseduc’d to herAdult’ries, was pronounc’d a Ravisher.
This hellish Ethnick Plot the Court alarms;The Traytors seventy thousand strong in Arms,NearEndorTown lay ready at a Call,And garrison’d in Airy Castles all.These Warriours on a sort of Coursers rid,Ne’r log’d in Stables, or by Man bestrid.What though the steele with which the Rebels fought,No Forge e’re felt, or Anvile ever wrought?Yet this Magnetick Plot, for black Designs,Can raise cold Iron from the very Mines.To this were twenty Under-plots, contriv’dBy Malice, and by Ignorance believ’d,Till Shamms met Shamms, and Plots with Plots so crost,That the True Plot amongst the False was lost.
Of all the much-wrong’d Worthies of the LandWhom this Contagious Infamy profan’d,In the first Rank the youthfulIthreamstood,His Princely Veins fill’d with greatDavidsBlood.With so much Manly Beauty in his Face,Scarce his High Birth could lend a Nobler Grace.And for a Mind fit for this shrine of GoldHeaven cast his Soul in the same Beauteous Mould;With all the sweets of Prideless Greatness blest,As Affable asAbrahamsAngel-Guest.But when in Wars his glittering Steel he drew,No Chief more Bold with fiercer Lightning flew:45Witness his tryal of an Arm Divine,Passing the Ordeal of aBurning Mine:Such forward Courage did his Bosome fill,Starting from nothing, but from doing ill.
To their false perspectives his Fate he owes,The spots i’th’ Glass, not in the Star it shows.Yet when by the Imperial Sentence doom’d,The Royal Hand the Princely Youth unplum’d,He his hard Fate without a Murmur took,And stood with that Calm, Duteous, Humble look.Of all his shining Honours unarray’d,LikeIsaac’sHead onAbrahamsAltar lay’d.Yes,Absolom, thou hast him in the Toyl,Rifled, and lost; now Triumph in the Spoyl.His Zeal too high forIsraelsTemples soar’d,His God-like Youth by prostrate Hearts ador’d,Till thy Revenge from Spight and Fear began,And too near Heaven took Care to make him Man.ThoughIsraelsKing, God, Laws, share all his Soul,Adorn’d with all that Heroes can enrol,Yet Vow’d Successions cruel Sacrifice,GreatJudah’s Son likeJeptha’s Daughter dies.Yes, like a Monument of Wrath he stands;Such RuineAbsolonsRevenge demands;His Curiosity his Doom assign’d:For ’twas a Crime of as destructive Kind,To pry howBabylonsBurning Zeal aspires,As to look back on Sodoms blazing Fires.But spoyl’d, and rob’d, his drossier Glories gone,His Virtue and his Truth are still his own.No rifling Hands can that bright Treasure take,Nor all his Foes that Royal Charter shake.
The dreadful’st Foe their Engines must subdue,The strongest Rock through which their Arts must hew,Was greatBarzillai: could they reach his Head,Their Fears all husht, they had strook Danger dead.46That secondMoses-Guide resolv’d to freeOurIsraelfrom her threatning Slavery,Idolatry and Chains; both from the RodsOfPharoh-Masters, andEgyptianGods:And from that Wilderness of Errour freed,Where Dogstars scorch, and killing Serpents breed:ThatIsraelsLiberty and Truth may grow,TheCanaanwhence our Milk and Honey flow.Such ourBarzillai; butBarzillaitoo,WithMosesFate doesMosesZeal pursue:Leads to that Bliss which his own Silver HairsShall never reach, Rich onely to his Heirs.Kind Patriot, who to plant us Banks of Flow’rs,With purling Streams, cool Shades, and Summer Bow’rs,His Ages needful Rest away does fling,Exhausts his Autumn to adorn our Spring:Whilst his last hours in Toyls and Storms are hurl’d,And onely to enrich th’inheriting World.Thus prodigally throws his Lifes short span,To play his Countries generous Pelican.But oh, that all-be-devill’d Paper, fram’dNo doubt, in Hell; that Mass of Treason damn’d;ByEsau’s Hands, andJacobsVoice disclos’d;And timely to th’ Abhorring World expos’d.Nay, what’s more wondrous, this wast-paper Tool,A nameless, unsubscrib’d, and useless scrowl,Was, by a Politician great in Fame,(His Chains foreseen a Month before they came)Preserv’d on purpose, by his prudent care,To brand his Soul, and ev’n his Life ensnare.But then the Geshuritish Troop, well-Oath’d,And for the sprucer Face, well-fed, and Cloath’d.These to the Bar Obedient Swearers go,With all the Wind their manag’d Lungs can blow.So have I seen from Bellows brazen Snout,The Breath drawn in, and by th’same Hand squeez’d out.But helping Oaths may innocently fly,When in a Faith where dying Vows can lye.Were Treason and Democracie his Ends,Why was’t not prov’d by his Revolting Friends?Why did not th’Oaths of his once-great Colleagues,Achitopheland the rest prove his Intreagues?47Why at the Bar appear’d such sordid scum,And all those Nobler Tongues of Honour dumb?Could he his Plots t’his great Allies conceal,He durst to leaky Starving Wretches tell;Such Ignorant Princes, and such knowing Slaves;HisBabelbuilding Tools from such poor Knaves.Were he that Monster his new Foes would makeTh’unreasoning World beleive, his Soul so black,That they in Conscience did his Side forego,Knowing him guilty they could prove him so.Then ’twas not Conscience made ’em change their side.Or if they knew, yet did his Treasons hide;In not exposing his detested Crime,They’re greater Monsters than they dare think Him.Are these the Proselites renown’d so high,Converts to Duty, Honour, Loyalty?Poorly they change, who in their change stand mute:Converts to Truth ought Falsehood to confute.To conquering Truth, they but small glory give,Who turn to God, yet let the Dagon live.
But who canAmielscharming Wit withstand,The great State-pillar of the Muses Land.For lawless and ungovern’d, had the AgeThe Nine wild Sisters seen run mad with Rage,Debaucht to Savages, till his keen PenBrought their long banisht Reason back again,Driven by his Satyres into Natures Fence,And lasht the idle Rovers into Sense.Nay, his sly Muse, in Style Prophetick, wrotThe whole Intrigue ofIsraelsEthnick Plot;Form’d strange Battalions, in stupendious-wise,Whole Camps in Masquerade, and Armies in disguise.Amiel, whose generous Gallantry, whilst FameShall have a Tongue, shall never want a Name.Who, whilst his Pomp his lavish Gold consumes,Moulted his Wings to lend a Throne his Plumes,Whilst an Ungrateful Court he did attend,Too poor to pay, what it had pride to spend.
But,Amielhas, alas, the fate to hear,An angry Poet play his Chronicler;48A Poet rais’d above Oblivions Shade,By his Recorded Verse Immortal made.But, Sir, his livelier Figure to engrave,With Branches added to theBaysyou gave:No Muse could more Heroick Feats rehearse,Had with an equal all-applauding Verse,GreatDavidsScepter, andSaulsJavelin prais’d:A Pyramide to his Saint,Interest, rais’d.
Priest, whom with so much Gall he does describe,’Cause once unworthy thought ofLeviesTribe.
A Cell there stands by Pious Founders rais’d,Both for its Wealth and LearnedRabbinsprais’d:To this did an Ambitious Bard aspire,To be no less than Lord of that blest Quire:Till Wisdom deem’d so Sacred a Command,A Prize too great for his unhallow’d Hand.Besides, lewd Fame had told his plighted Vow,ToLaura’scooing Love percht on a dropping BoughLaurain faithful Constancy confin’dToEthiopsEnvoy, and to all Mankind.Laurathough Rotten, yet of Mold Divine;He had all her Cl—ps, and She had all his Coine.Her Wit so far his Purse and Sense could drain,Till every P—x was sweetn’d to a Strain.And if at last his Nature can reform,A weary grown of Loves tumultuous storm,’Tis Ages Fault, not His; of pow’r bereft,He left not Whoring, but of that was left.
But wandring Muse bear up thy flagging Wing:To thy more glorious Theme return, and singBraveJothamsWorth, Impartial, Great, and Just,Of unbrib’d Faith, and of unshaken Trust:OnceGeshursLord, their Throne so nobly fill’d,As if to th’borrow’d Scepter that he held,49Th’inspiringDavidyet more generous grew,And lent him his ImperialGeniustoo.Nor has he worn the Royal Image moreInIsraelsViceroy, than Embassador:Witness his Gallantry that resolute hour,When to uphold the Sacred Pride of Pow’r,His stubborn Flags from theSydonianshore,The angry storms of Thundring Castles bore.But these are Virtues Fame must less admire,Because deriv’d from that Heroick Sire,Who on a Block a dauntless Martyr dy’d,With all the Sweetness of a Smiling Bride;Charm’d with the Thought of Honours Starry Pole,With Joy laid down a Head to mount a Soul.
Of all the Champions rich in Honours Scarrs,Whose Loyalty throughDavidsancient Wars,(In spight of the triumphant Tyrants pride,)Was to his lowest Ebb of Fortune ty’d;No Link more strong in all that Chain of Gold,ThenAmasai, the Constant, and the Bold.That Warlike General whose avenging Sword,Through all the Battles of his Royal Lord,Pour’d all the Fires that Loyal Zeal could light,No brighter Star in the lostDavidsnight.
No less with LaurelsAshursBrows adorn,That mangled Brave who withTyresThunder torn,Brought a dismember’d Load of Honour home,And lives to make both th’Earth and Seas his Tomb.
With Reverence the ReligiousHelontreat,Refin’d from all the looseness of the Great.
A Son so high in Sanedrims renown’d,InIsraelsIntrest strong, in Sense profound.
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In the same list youngAdrielspraise record,Adrielthe Academick Neighbour Lord;Adrielennobled by a Grandfather,And Unkle, both those Glorious Sons of War:Both Generals, and both Exiles with their Lord;Till with the Royal Wanderer restored,They lived to see his Coronation Pride;Then surfeiting on too much Transport dy’d.O’reAdrielsHead these Heroes Spirits shine,His Soul with so much Loyal Blood fenc’d in;Such Native Virtues his great Mind adorn,Whilst under their congenial Influence born.
In this Record letCamriesName appear,The GreatBarzillai’s Fellow Sufferer;From unknown Hands, of unknown Crimes accus’d,Till th’hunted Shadow lost, his Chains unloos’d.
Now to the Sweet-tongu’dAmramspraise be just,Once theState-Advocate, that Wealthy Trust,Till Flattery the price of dear-bought Gold,His Innocence for Pallaces unfold,To Naked Truths more shining Beauties true,Th’Embroiderd Mantle from his Neck he threw.
NextHothrielwrite,Baalswatchful Foe, and lateJerusalemsprotecting Magistrate;Who, when false Jurors were to Frenzy Charm’d,And against Innocence even Tribunals arm’d,Saw deprav’d Justice ope her Ravenous Jaw,And timely broke her Canine Teeth of Law.
Amongst th’Asserters of his Countries Cause,Give the boldMicahhis deserv’d Applause,The Grateful Sanedrims repeated Choice,Of Two Great Councels the Successive Voice.Of that old hardy Tribe ofIsraelborne,Fear their Disdain, and Flattery their Scorne,Too proud to truckle, and too Tough to bend.
Of the same Tribe wasHanan, IthreamsFriend,From that fam’d Sire, the Long Robes Glory, sprung,In Sanedrims his Countries Pillar long;
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Till subtley made by Spightful Honour Great,Prefer’d toIsraelsChief Tribunal Seat,Made in a higher Orb his Beams dispense,To hush his Formidable Eloquence.
ButIsraelsnumerous Worthies are too longAnd Great a Theam for one continued Song.Yet These by bold flagitious Tongues run down,Made all Conspirers againstDavidsCrown.
Nay, and there was a Time, had Hell prevail’d,Nor Perjury and Subornation fail’d,When a long List of Names, for Treason doom’d,HadIsraelsPatriots in one Grave entomb’d:A List, with such fair Loyal Colours laid,Even to no less than Royal Hands convey’d.And the great Mover in this pious Fraud,A Dungeon Slave redeem’d by’a Midnight Bawd:Then made by Art a Swearer of Renown,Nurst and embrac’d by th’Heir ofJudahsCrown:Encourag’d too by Pension for Reward,With his forg’d Scrowls for Guiltless Blood prepared.
Yet This, and all Things else now quite blown o’re,AndAbsolom, hisIsraelsFear no more:Luster and Pride shall hem his radiant Brow;All Knees shall fall, and prostrate Nations bow.By Heav’ns, he is, he will, he must, he shallBeIsraelsHeroe, Friend, Saint, Idol, all.What though provok’d with all the crying sinsOf Murmuring Slaves, excluding Sanedrins:By profane Crowds in dirt his Prophets spurn’d,And ev’n his Gods in mock Processions burn’d:Himself fromIsraelintoHebronsent,And doom’d to little less than Banishment.