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This he believ'd, and on his Shield he bore,
And prais'd their Strength, but thought his own
(was more.
The Valley now this Manfter feem'd to fill,
And we (methought) look'd up t' him from our Hill.
All arm'd in Brafs, the richeff drefs of War,
(A difinal glorious Sight) he fhone afar.
The Sun himself started with fudden fright,
To fee his Beams return fo difmal bright.
Brafs was his Helmet, his Boot brafs; all o'er
1 His Breaft a thick Plate of ftrong Brafs he wore,
His Spear the Trunk was of a lofty Tree,

Which Nature meant fome tall Ship's-Maft fhould be;
Th' huge Iron Head fix Hundred Shekels weigh'd,
And of whole Bodies, but one wound it made,
Able Death's worst command to over-do,
Deftroy Life at once, and Carcafs too:
Thus arm'd he ftood; all direful and all gay,
And round him flung a fcornful Look away.
So when a Scythian Tyger gazing round,
An Herd of Kine in fome fair Plain has found,
Lowing fecure, he fwells with angry Pride,
And calls forth all his Spots on ev'ry Side.
Then ftops, and hurls his haughty Eyes at all,
In choice of fome strong Neck on which to fall,
Almoft he fcorns, fo weak, fo cheap a prey,
And grieves to fee them trembling haft away.

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XVI.

A Paraphrafe on the 148th Pfalm..

By the Earl of Rofcommon.

Azure Vaults! O Chryftal Sky,

The World's transparent Canopy;
Break your long Silence, and let Mortals know,
With what Contempt ye look on Things below.

Wing'd Squadrons of the God of War,
Who conquer wherefoe'er you are;

Let ecchoing Anthems make his Praises known
On Earth, his Foot Stool, as in Heav'n his Throne:
Great Eye of all, whofe glorious Ray
Rules the bright Empire of the Day;

O praife his Name, without whofe purer Light,
Thou hadst been hid in an Abyss of Night.
Ye Moon and Planets, who difpenfe,
By God's Command, your Influence; -

Refign to him, as your Creator's due,
That Veneration which Men pay to you.
Faireft, as well as firft of Things,

From whom all Joy, all Beauty Springs;

O praife th' Almighty Ruler of the Globe,
Who ufeth thee for his Empyreal Robe:
Praise him ye loud harmonious Spheres,
Whofe facred Stamp all Nature bears

Who did all Forms from the rude Chaos draw
And whofe Command is th' univerfal Law..
Ye watry Mountains of the Sky,
And you fo far above our Eye

Valt

Vaft ever-moving Orbs, exalt his Name,
Who gave its Being to your glorious Frame.
Ye Dragons whofe contagious Breath,
Peoples the dark Retreats of Death,

Change your fierce Hiffing into joyful Song,
And praife your Maker with your forked Tongue;
Praise him ye Monsters of the deep,
That in the Sea's vaft Bofoms fleep;

At whofe Command the foaming Billows roar,
Yet know their Limits. Tremble and adore,
Ye Mifts and Vapours, Hail and Snow,
And you who through the Concave blow.

Swift Exécutors of his holy Word,

Whirlwinds and Tempefts,praife the Almighty Lord,
Mountains, who to your Maker's View,
Seem less than Mole-Hills do to you;

Remember how, when firft Jehovabespoke,
All Heaven was Fire, and Sinai hid in Smoke.
Praife him fweet Offspring of the Ground,
With heavenly Nectar yearly crown'd.

And ye tall Cedars, celebrate his Praife,
That in his Temple facred Altars raife.
Idle Musicians of the Spring,

Whofe only Care's to love and fing,

Fly thro' the World, and let your Trembling Throat, Praife your Creator with the fweeteft Note.

Praise him each Salvage furious Beaft,

That on his Stores do daily Feaft.

And

And you tame Slaves of the laborious Plow,
Your weary Knees to your Creator bow.
Majeftick Monarchs, Mortal Gods,
Whofe Power hath here no Periods;

May all Attempts against your Crown be vain,
But ftill remember by whofe Power you reign.
Let the wide World his Praises fing,
Where Tagus and Euphrates spring,

And from the Danube's frofty Banks, to those, Where from an unknown Head great Nilus flows. You that dispose of all our Lives,

Praise him from whom your Power derives.

Be true and juft like him, and fear his Word,
As much as Malefactors do your Sword.
Praise him old Monuments of Time,
O praise him in your youthful Prime.

Praife him fair Idols of our greedy Senfe,
Exalt his Name, fweet Age of Innocence:
Jehovah's Name shall only laft,

When Heaven, Earth, and all is past.

Nothing, Great God, is to be found in Thee, But unconceivable Eternity.

Exalt, O Jacob's Sacred Race,

The God of Gods, the God of Grace;

Who will above the Stars your Empire raife,
And with his Glory recompence your praise.

XVII.

LOVE.

I'LL fing of Heroes, and of Kings,
In mighty Numbers, mighty Things,
Begin, my Mufe; but lo the Strings
To my great Song rebellious prove;
The Strings will found of nought but Love,
I broke them all, and put on new;
'Tis this or nothing fure will do.
Thefe fure, faid I, will me obey;
Thefe fure Heroick Notes will play.
Straight I began with thund'ring Jove,
And all th'immortal Powers but Love.
Love fmil'd, and from my' enfeebled Lyre
Came gentle Ayres, fuch as infpire
Melting Love, soft Desire.

Farewel then Heroes, farewel Kings,
And mighty Numbers, mighty Things.
Love tunes my Heart juft to my Strings.

XVIII,

GOL D..

A Mighty Pain to Love it is,

And 'tis a Pain that Pain to mis

But of all Pain, the greatest Pain
It is to love, but love in vain..
Virtue now nor noble Blood,
Nor Wit by Love is underftood.

Cowley.

Gold

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