In exile with his godlike prince he mourn'd;
For him he fuffer'd, and with him return'd.
The court he practis'd, not the courtier's art :
Large was his wealth, but larger was his heart.
Which well the nobleft objects knew to choose,
The fighting warrior, and recording Mufe.
His bed could once a fruitful iffue boaft;
Now more than half a father's name is loft.
His eldest hope, with every grace adorn'd,
By me, fo heaven will have it, always mourn'd,
And always honour'd, fnatch'd in manhood's prime
B'unequal fates, and providence's crime :
Yet not before the goal of honour won,
All parts fulfill'd of fubject and of fon :
Swift was the race, but short the time to run.
Oh narrow circle, but of power divine,
Scanted in space, but perfect in thy line!
By fea, by land, thy matchlefs worth was known,
Arms thy delight, and war was all thy own:
Thy force infus'd the fainting Tyrians prop'd:
And haughty Pharaoh found his fortune ftop'd.
Oh ancient honour! Oh unconquer'd hand,
Whom foes unpunifh'd never could withstand!
But Ifrael was unworthy of his name:
Short is the date of all immoderate fame.
It looks as heaven our ruin had defign'd,
And durft not truft thy fortune and thy mind.
Now, free from earth, thy difencumber'd foul
Mounts up, and leaves behind the clouds and starry pole :
From thence thy kindred legions mayst thou bring,
To aid the guardian angel of thy king.
Here stop, my Muse, here cease thy painful flight:
No pinions can purfue immortal height:
Tell good Barzillai thou canst fing no more,
And tell thy foul fhe fhould have fled before:
Or fled the with his life, and left this verse
To hang on her departed patron's hearse ?
Now take thy steepy flight from heaven, and see
If thou canft find on earth another he:
Another he would be too hard to find;
See then whom thou canft fee not far behind.
Zadoc the priest, whom, fhunning power and place,
His lowly mind advanc'd to David's grace.
With him the Sagan of Jerufalem,
Of hofpitable foul, and noble flem;
Him of the western dome, whofe weighty sense
Flows in fit words and heavenly eloquence.
The prophets fons, by fuch example led,
To learning and to loyalty were bred :
For colleges on bounteous kings depend,
And never rebel was to arts a friend.
To thefe fucceed the pillars of the laws;
Who best can plead, and best can judge a cause.
Next them a train of loyal peers afcend;
Sharp-judging Adriel, the Mufes' friend,
Himfelf a Mufe: in fanhedrims debate
True to his prince, but not a flave of state;
Whom David's love with honours did adorn,
That from his difobedient fon were torn.
Jotham of piercing wit, and pregnant thought;
Endued by nature, and by learning taught,
To move assemblies, who but only try'd
The worfe a-while, then chofe the better fide:
Nor chofe alone, but turn'd the balance too;
So much the weight of one brave man can do.
Hufhai, the friend of David in distress;
In public ftorms of manly stedfastness :
By foreign treaties he inform`d his youth,
And join'd experience to his native truth.
His frugal care fupply'd the wanting throne;
Frugal for that, but bounteous of his own:
'Tis eafy conduct when exchequers flow;
But hard the task to manage well the low:
For fovereign power is too deprefs'd or high,
When kings are forc'd to fell, or crowds to buy.
Indulge one labour more, my weary Mufe,
For Amiel who can Amiel's praise refuse?
Of ancient racę by birth, but nobler yet
In his own worth, and without title great :
The fanhedrim long time as chief he rul'd,
Their reafon guided, and their paffion cool'd:
So dextrous was he in the crown's defence,
So form'd to fpeak a loyal nation's fenfe,
That, as their band was Ifrael's tribes in fmall,
So fit was he to reprefent them all.
Now rather charioteers the feat afcend,
Whofe loose careers his steady skill commend :
They, like th' unequal ruler of the day,
Milguide the seasons, and miftake the way;
While he withdrawn at their mad labours finiles,
And fafe enjoys the sabbath of his toils.
Thefe were the chief, a fmall but faithful band
Of worthies, in the breach who dar'd to stand,
And tempt th' united fury of the land,
With grief they view'd fuch powerful engines bent,
To batter down the lawful government.
A numerous faction, with pretended frights,
In fanhedrims to plume the regal rights ;
The true fucceffor from the court remov'd;
The plot, by hireling witneffes, improv'd.
Thefe ills they faw, and, as their duty bound,
They fhew'd the king the danger of the wound;
That no conceffions from the throne would please,
But lenitives fomented the disease:
That Abfalom, ambitious of the crown,
Was made the lure to draw the people down :
That falfe Achitophel's pernicious hate
Had turn'd the plot to ruin church and state :
The council violent, the rabble worse :
That Shimei taught Jerufalem to curse.
With all thefe loads of injuries oppreft,
And long revolving in his careful breast
Th' event of things, at last his patience tir'd,
Thus, from his royal throne, by heaven infpir'd,
The god-like David fpoke; with awful fear
His train their Maker in their mafter hear.
Thus long have I, by native mercy fway'd,
My wrongs diffembled, my revenge delay'd:
So willing to forgive th' offending age;
So much the father did the king affuage.
But now fo far my clemency they flight,
Th' offenders queftion my forgiving right,
That one was made for many, they contend;
But 'tis to rule; for that's a monarch's end.
They call my tenderness of blood, my fear;
Though manly tempers can the longest bear.
Yet, fince they will divert my native course,
'Tis time to fhew I am not good by force.
Those heap'd affronts that haughty subjects bring,
Are burdens for a camel, not a king.
Kings are the public pillars of the state,
Born to fuftain and prop the nation's weight :
If my young Samfon will pretend a call
To shake the column, let him fhare the fall:
But oh, that yet he would repent and live!
How eafy 'tis for parents to forgive!
With how few tears a pardon might be won
From nature, pleading for a darling fon!
Poor, pitied youth, by my paternal care,
Rais'd up
to all the height his frame could bear!
Had God ordain'd his fate for empire born,
He would have given his foul another turn:
Gull'd with a patriot's name, whofe modern fenfe
Is one that would by law fupplant his prince;
The people's brave, the politician's tool;
Never was patriot yet, but was a fool.
Whence comes it, that religion and the laws
Should more be Abfalom's than David's caufe?
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