262. O God faid he, thou patron of my days, 263. Be thou my judge, with what unwearied care And top the iffues of their wafting blood. Thou who haft taught me to forgive the ill, Return that mercy on thy fervant's head. Or if my heedlefs youth has ftep'd aftray, On me alone thy juft difpleasure lay, But take thy judgments from this mourning land. 266. We all have finn'd, and thou haft laid us low, O let it be enough what thou haft done; When fpotted deaths ran arm'd through every street, With poifon'd darts which not the good could fhun, The fpeedy could out-fly, or valiant meet. 268. The living few, and frequent funerals then, 269. O país not, Lord, an abfolute decree, Thy threatnings, Lord, as thine thou may'st revoke: And let not foreign foes oppress thy land. 271. Th' Eternal heard, and from the heavenly quire The bleffed minifter his wings display'd, And like a shooting star he cleft the night: He charg'd the flames, and thofe that difobey'd He lafh'd to duty with his fword of light. 273. The fugitive flames chaftis'd went forth to prey By which to heaven they did affect the way, Ere faith in churchmen without works was heard. 274. The wanting orphans faw with watery eyes, 275. Nor could thy fabric, Paul's, defend thee long, 276. The 276. The daring flames peep'd in, and faw from far Heaven thought it fit to have it purg'd by fire. 277. Now down the narrow ftreets it fwiftly came, If only ruin must enlarge our way. 278. And now four days the fun had feen our woes: And farther from the feverish north retire. 279. In th' empyrean heaven, the blefs'd abode, And an hufh'd filence damps the tuneful sky. At length th' Almighty caft a pitying eye, 281. An hollow crystal pyramid he takes, 282. quarry drove. The vanquish'd fires withdraw from every place, 283. Our 283. Our King this more than natural change beholds ; As when sharp frofts had long conftrain'd the earth, And ftraight the green fields laugh with promis'd grain : 285. By fuch degrees the fpreading gladness grew 286. The father of the people open'd wide His ftores, and all the poor with plenty fed: Thus God's anointed God's own place fupply'd, And fill'd the empty with his daily bread, 287. This royal bounty brought its own reward, And in their minds fo deep did print the fenfe; That if their ruins fadly they regard, "Tis but with fear the fight might drive him thence. 288. But fo may he live long, that town to sway, As he will hatch their afhes by his stay, And not their humble ruins now forfake. 289. They have not loft their loyalty by fire; Nor is their courage or their wealth fo low. That from his wars they poorly would retire, Or beg the pity of a vanquish'd foe. 299. Not 290. Not with more conftancy the Jews, of old Or with more vigour to rebuild it went. 291. The utmost malice of the stars is past, And two dire comets, which have fcourg'd the town, In their own plague and fire have breath'd the laft, Or dimly in their finking fockets frown. 292. Now frequent trines the happier lights among, 293. Methinks already from this chymic flame, Rich as the town which gives the Indies name, Already labouring with a mighty fate, She shakes the rubbish from her mounting brow, And feems to have renew'd her charter's date, Which heaven will to the death of time allow. 295. More great than human now, and more auguft, 296. Before fhe like fome fhepherdefs did fhow, 297. Now |