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Who with a loyalty that did excel,

Brought all th' endowments of Achitophel.
Sincere was Amri, and not only knew,
But Ifrael's fanctions into practice drew;
Our laws, that did a boundless ocean feem,
Were coafted all, and fathom'd all by him.
No rabbin speaks like him their myftic fenfe,
So juft, and with fuch charms of eloquence:
To whom the double bleffing does belong,
With Mofes' infpiration, Aaron's tongue.

Than Sheva none more loyal zeal have shown,
Wakeful as Judah's lion for the crown,
Who for that caufe ftill combats in his age,
For which his youth with danger did engage.
In vain our factious priefts the cant revive;
In vain feditious fcribes with libel ftrive
T'enflame the croud; while he with watchful eye
Obferves, and fhoots their treafons as they fly;
Their weekly frauds his keen replies detect;
He undeceives more faft than they infect.
So Mofes when the peft on legions prey'd,
Advanc'd his fignal and the plague was ftay'd.
Once more my fainting mufe thy pinions try,
And frength's exhaufted ftore let love fupply.
What tribute, Afaph, fhall we render thee?
We'll crown thee with a wreath from thy own tree!
Thy laurel grove no envy's flash can blast;

The fong of Afaph fhall for ever last.

With wonder late pofterity fhall dwell

On Abfalom and falfe Achitophel :

Thy ftrains fhall be our flumbering prophets dream, And when our Sion virgins fing their theme;

Our jubilees fhall with thy verfe be grac'd,

The fong of Afaph fhall for ever last.

How fierce his fatire loos'd; reftrain'd, how tame; How tender of th' offending young man's fame!


How well his worth, and brave adventures ftil'd;
Juft to his virtues, to his error mild.

No page of thine that fears the ftricteft view,
But teems with juft reproof, or praise as due;
Not Eden could a fairer profpect yield,
All paradife without one barren field:
Whose wit the cenfure of his foes has paft,
The fong of Afaph fhall for ever last.

What praise for such rich strains shall we allow ?
What juft rewards the grateful crown bestow?
While bees in flow'rs rejoice, and flow'rs in dew,
While ftars and fountains to their courfe are true;
While Judah's throne, and Sion's rock stand fast,
The fong of Afaph and the fame fhall laft.

Still Hebron's honour'd happy foil retains
Our royal heroes beauteous dear remains ;
Who now fails off with winds nor wishes flack,
To bring his fufferings' bright companion back.
But e'er fuch transport can our fense employ,
A bitter grief muft poifon half our joy;
Nor can our coafts reftor'd those bleffings fee
Without a bribe to envious deftiny!

Curs'd Sodom's doom for ever fix the tide
Where by inglorious chance the valiant dy'd.
Give not infulting Afkalon to know,
Nor let Gath's daughters triumph in our woe!
No failor with the news fwell Egypt's pride,"
By what inglorious fate our valiant dy'd!
Weep Arnon! Jordan weep thy fountains dry,
While Sion's rock diffolves for a fupply.

Calm were the elements, night's filence deep, The waves fcarce murm'ring, and the winds afleep; Yet fate for ruin takes fo ftill an hour,

And treacherous fands the princely bark devour;
Then death unworthy feiz'd a generous race,

To virtue's fcandal, and the ftars difgrace!



Oh! had th' indulgent pow'rs vouchsaf'd to yield,
Inftead of faithlefs fhelves, a lifted field;

A lifted field of heaven's and David's foes,
Fierce as the troops that did his youth oppose,
Each life had on his flaughter'd heap retir'd,
Not tamely, and unconqu'ring thus expir'd,
But destiny is now their only foe,

And dying even o'er that they triumph too;
With loud laft breaths their master's fcape applaud,
Of whom kind force cou'd scarce the fates defraud;
Who for fuch followers loft, O matchlefs mind!
At his own fafety now almost repin'd!
Say, royal Sir, by all your fame in arms,
Your praise in peace, and by Urania's charms ;
If all your fuff'rings paft fo nearly preft,
Or pierc'd with half fo painful grief your breaft?
Thus fome diviner mufe her heroe forms,
Not footh'd with foft delights, but toft in ftorms.
Nor ftretcht on rofes in the myrtle grove,

Nor crowns his days with mirth, his nights with love,
But far remov'd in thund'ring camps is found,
His flumbers short, his bed the herbless ground:
In tasks of danger always feen the first,

Feeds from the hedge, and flakes with ice his thirst.
Long muft his patience ftrive with fortune's rage,
And long oppofing God's themselves engage,
Muft fee his country flame, his friends destroy'd,
Before the promis'd empire be enjoy'd :

Such toil of fate must build a man of fame,

And fuch, to Ifrael's crown, the god-like David came.
What fudden beams dispel the clouds fo fast!
Whose drenching rains laid all our vineyards waste ?
The spring so far behind her course delay'd,
On th' inftant is in all her bloom array'd;
The winds breathe low, the element ferene;
Yet mark what motion in the waves is feen!


Thronging and bufy as Hyblæan swarms,
Or ftraggled foldiers fummon'd to their arms.
See where the princely bark in loofest pride,
With all her guardian fleet, adorns the tide!
High on her deck the royal lovers ftand,

Our crimes to pardon e'er they touch'd our land.
Welcome to Ifrael and to David's breaft!
Here all your toils, here all your fuff'rings reft.
This year did Ziloah rule Jerufalem,
And boldly all fedition's Syrtes ftem,
Howe'er incumber'd with a viler pair
Than Ziph or Shimei to affift the chair;
Yet Ziloah's loyal labours fo prevail'd
That faction at the next election fail'd,
When ev'n the common cry did juftice found,
And merit by the multitude was crown'd:
With David then was Ifrael's peace reftor'd.
Crouds mourn'd their error, and obey'd their lord.

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To both Parts of










HE Duke of Albemarle, fon of general Monk.

The name given, through this poem, to a Lord-Chancellor in general.

Duke of Monmouth, natural fon
of King Charles the fecond.

S Anthony Ashley Cooper, Earl of

John Sheffield, Earl of Mulgrave.
Sir Edmundbury Godfrey.

Mr. Seymour, Speaker of the
House of Commons.
Sir Heneage Finch, Earl of Win-
chelfea, and Lord-Chancellor.
Duchefs of Monmouth.

Sir William Waller.

A character drawn by Tate for
Dryden, in the fecond
this Poem.







Earl of Huntingdon.




Duke of Ormond.


Duchefs of Portsmouth.


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