Ours was a Levite, and as times went then,
His tribe were God Almighty's gentlemen.

Sunk were his eyes, his voice was harsh and loud,
Sure figns he neither choleric was, nor proud :
His long chin prov'd his wit;

his faint-like grace

A church vermillion, and a Mofes' face.
His memory, miraculously great,

Could plots, exceeding man's belief, repeat;
Which therefore cannot be accounted lies,
For human wit could never fuch devife.
Some future truths are mingled in his book;
But where the witnefs fail'd, the prophet spoke :
Some things like vifionary flight appear;

The spirit caught him up the Lord knows where;
And him his rabbinical degree,
gave

Unknown to foreign university.

His judgment yet his memory did excel;
Which piec'd his wondrous evidence so well,
And fuited to the temper of the times,
Then groaning under jebufitic crimes.
Let Ifrael's foes fufpect his heavenly call,
And rafhly judge his writ apocryphal ;
Our laws for fuch affronts have forfeits made:
He takes his life, who takes away his trade.
Were I myself in witnefs Corah's place,
The wretch who did me fuch a dire difgrace,
Should whet my memory, though once forgot,
To make him an appendix of my plot.
His zeal to heaven made him his prince defpife,
And load his perfon with indignities.
L 2

But

But zeal peculiar privilege affords,
Indulging latitude to deeds and words :
And Corah might for Agag's murder call,
In terms as coarfe as Samuel us'd to Saul.
What others in his evidence did join,
The beft that could be had for love or coin,
In Corah's own predicament will fall :
For Witness is a common name to all.
Surrounded thus with friends of every fort,
Deluded Abfalom forfakes the court:
Impatient of high hopes, urg'd with renown,
And fir'd with near poffeffion of a crown.
Th' admiring crowd are dazzled with surprize,
And on his goodly perfon feed their eyes.
His joy conceal'd he sets himself to show;
On each side bowing popularly low :

His looks, his gestures, and his words he frames,
And with familiar ease repeats their names.
Thus form'd by nature, furnish'd out with arts,
He glides unfelt into their fecret hearts.
Then with a kind compaffionating look,
And fighs, befpeaking pity ere he spoke,
Few words he faid; but eafy thofe and fit,
More flow than Hybla-drops, and far more fweet.
I mourn, my countrymen, your lost estate ;
Though far unable to prevent your fate :
Behold a banish'd man for your dear caufe
Expos'd a prey to arbitrary laws!

Yet oh! that I alone could be undone,
Cut off from empire, and no more a son !

Now

Now all your liberties a spoil are made;
Egypt and Tyrus intercept your trade,
And Jebufites your facred rites invade.

My father, whom with reverence yet I name,
Charm'd into eafe, is careless of his fame;
And, brib'd with petty fums of foreign gold,
Is grown in Bathsheba's embraces old;
Exalts his enemies, his friends destroys;
And all his power against himself employs.
He gives, and let him give, my right away:
But why should he his own and yours betray?
He, only he, can make the nation bleed,

And he alone from my revenge is freed.
Take then my tears,
with that he wip'd his eyes,
'Tis all the aid my prefent power supplies :
No court-informer can these arms accufe;
These arms may sons against their fathers use :
And 'tis my wish, the next fucceffor's reign
May make no other Ifraelite complain.

Youth, beauty, graceful action, feldom fail;
But common intereft always will prevail :
And pity never ceases to be shown

To him who makes the people's wrongs his own.
The crowd, that still believe their kings opprefs,
With lifted hands their young Messiah bless:
Who now begins his progress to ordain

With chariots, horsemen, and a numerous train:
From east to weft his glories he displays,
And, like the fun, the promis'd land furveys.

Fame runs before him as the morning star,
And shouts of joy falute him from afar :
Each houfe receives him as a guardian god,
And confecrates the place of his abode.
But hofpitable treats did most commend
Wife Iffachar, his wealthy western friend.
This moving court, that caught the people's eyes,
And feem'd but pomp, did other ends disguise;
Achitophel had form'd it, with intent

To found the depths, and fathom where it went,
The people's hearts, distinguish friends from foes;
And try their strength before they came to blows.
Yet all was colour'd with a smooth pretence
Of fpecious love, and duty to their prince.
Religion, and redrefs of grievances,

Two names that always cheat, and always please,
Are often urg'd; and good king David's life
Endanger'd by a brother and a wife.
Thus in a pageant fhew a plot is made;
And peace itself is war in masquerade.
Oh foolish Ifrael! never warn'd by ill!
Still the fame bait, and circumvented still!
Did ever men forfake their prefent ease,
In midst of health imagine a disease ;
Take pains contingent mifchiefs to foresee,
Make heirs for monarchs, and for God decree?
What fhall we think? Can people give away,
Both for themfelves and fons, their native fway?
Then they are left defenceless to the fword
Of each unbounded, arbitrary lord:

And

And laws are vain, by which we right enjoy,
If kings unqueftion'd can those laws destroy.
Yet if the crowd be judge of fit and just,
And kings are only officers in trust,
Then this resuming covenant was declar'd
When kings were made, or is for ever barr'd.
If those who gave the fcepter could not tie
By their own deed their own pofterity,

How then could Adam bind his future race?
How could his forfeit on mankind take place?
Or how could heavenly justice damn us all,
Who ne'er confented to our father's fall?

Then kings are flaves to those whom they command,
And tenants to their people's pleasure stand.
Add, that the power for property allow'd

Is mischievously feated in the crowd:
For who can be secure of private right,
If fovereign fway may be diffoly'd by might?
Nor is the people's judgment always true:
The most may err as grossly as the few?
And faultlefs kings run down by common cry,
For vice, oppreffion, and for tyranny.

What standard is there in a fickle rout,
Which, flowing to the mark, runs faster out?
Nor only crowds but sanhedrims may be
Infected with this public lunacy,

And fhare the madness of rebellious times,
To murder monarchs for imagin'd crimes.
If they may give and take whene'er they please,
Not kings alone, the Godhead's images,