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In exile with his godlike prince he mourn'd;
For him he suffer’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 noblest objects knew to choose,
The fighting warrior, and recording Muse.
His bed could once a fruitful issue boast;
Now more than half a father's name is loft.
His eldest hope, with every grace adorn'd,
By me, so heaven will have it, always mourn’d,
And always honour'd, snatch'd in manhood's prime
B’unequal fates, and providence's crime :
Yet not before the goal of honour won,
All parts fulfilld of subject 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 sea, by land, thy matchless 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 stop’d.
Oh ancient honour! Oh unconquer d hand,
Whoin foes unpunish'd never could withstand!
But Israel was unworthy of his naine :
Short is the date of all immoderate fame.
It looks as heaven our ruin had design'd,
And durft not trust thy fortune and thy mind.
Now, free from earth, thy disencumber'd soul
Mounts up, and leaves behind the clouds and starry pole :

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From thence thy kindred legions mayit thou bring,
To aid the guardian angel of thy king.
Here stop, my Muse, here cease tły painful flight:
No pinions can pursue immortal height:
Tell good Barzillai thou canst sing no more,
And tell thy soul she should 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 fee
If thou canst find on earth another he :
Another he would be too hard to find;
See then whom thou canst see not far behind.
Zadoc the priest, whom, shunning power and place,
His lowly mind advanc'd to David's grace.
With him the Sagan of Jerusalem,
Of hospitable soul, and noble se:n ;
Him of the western dome, whose weighty sense
Flows in fit words and heavenly eloquence.
The prophets fons, by such example led,
To learning and to loyalty were bred :
For colleges on hounteous kings depend,
And never rebel was to arts a friend.
To these succeed the pillars of the laws;
Who best can plead, and best can judge a cause.
Next them a train of ioyal peers ascend;
Sharp-judging Adriel, the Muses' friend,
Himself a Muse : in sanhedrims debate
True to his prince, but not a flave of state ;
Whom David's love with honours did adorn,
That from his disobedient son were torn.

Jotham

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Jotham of piercing wit, and pregnant thought;
Endued by nature, and by learning taught,
To move assemblies, who but only try'd
The worse a-while, then chose the better fide :
Nor chose alone, but turn'd the balance too ;
So much the weight of one brave man can do.
Hushai, the friend of David in distress;
In public storms of manly stedfastness :
By foreign treaties he inform’d his youth,
And join'd experience to his native truth.
His frugal care supply'd the wanting throne;
Frugal for that, but bounteous of his own :
'Tis easy conduct when exchequers flow;
But hard the talk to manage well the low :
For sovereign power is too depress’d or high,
When kings are forc'd to fell, or crowds to buy.
Indulge one labour more, my weary Muse,
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 fanhedriin long time as chief he rul'd,
Their reason guided, and their passion coold:
So dextrous was he in the crown's defence,
So form’d to speak a loyal nation's sense,
That, as their band wis Ifrael's tribes in small,
So fit was le to represent them all.
Now rainer charioteers the seat ascend,
Whose loose careers his steady skill commend :
They, like th' unequal ruler of the day,
Miiguide the seasons, and mistake the way;

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While he withdrawn at their mad labours siniles,
And safe enjoys the sabbath of his toils.

These were the chief, a small 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 such 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 witnesses, improv'd.
These ills they saw, and, as their duty bound,
They shew'd the king the danger of the wound;
That no concessions from the throne would please,
But lenitives fomented the disease :
That Absalom, ambitious of the crown,
Was made the lure to draw the people down :
That false Achitophel's pernicious hate
Had turn'd the plot to ruin church and state :
The council violent, the rabble worse :
That Shimei taught Jerusalem to curse.

With all these loads of injuries opprest,
And long revolving in his careful breast
Th' event of things, at last his patience tir’d,
Thus, from his royal throne, by heaven inspir'd,

god-like David spoke ; with awful fear His train their Maker in their master hcar.

Thus long have I, by native mercy (way'd, My wrongs dissembled, my revenge delay'd :

So

So willing to forgive th' offending age;
So much the father did the king assuage.
But now so far my clemency they Night,
Tli' offenders question 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, since they will divert my native course,
'Tis time to shew 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 sustain and prop the nation's weight :
If my young Samson will pretend a call
To make the column, let him share the fall :
But oh, that yet he would repent and live !
How easy 'tis for parents to forgive!
With how few tears a pardon might be won
From nature, pleading for a darling son!
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 soul another turn :
Gulld with a patriot's name, whose niodern sense
Is one that would by law supplant 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 Abfaloni's than David's cause ?

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