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On David's Throne; or Throne of all the world,
Now at full age, fulness of time; thy season,
When Prophecies of thee are best fulfilld.
Now contrary, if I read aught in Heav'n,
Or Heav'n write aught of Fate, by what the Stars
Voluminous, or single Characters,
In their conjunction met, give me to spell,
Sorrows and labours, opposition, hate,
Attends thee, scorns, reproaches; injuries,
Violence and stripes, and lastly cruel death;
A Kingdom they portend thee, but what Kingdom,
Real or Allegoric I discern not,
Nor, when, eternal sure, as without end,
Without beginning; for no date perfixt,
Directs me in the Starry Rubric set.

So saying he took (for still he knew his Pow'r
Not yet expir’d) and to the Wilderness
Brought back the Son of God, and left him there,
Feigning to disappear. Darkness now rose,
As day-light sunk, and brought in lowring night.
Her shad’wy off-spring unsubstantial both,
Privation meer of light and absent day.
Our Saviour meek and with untroubled mind

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After

After his aery jaunt, though hurry'd fore,
Hungry and cold betook him to bis rest,
Whereyer, under fome concourse of shades
Whose branchingarms thick intertwin'd might shield
From dews and damps of night his shelter'd head,
But shelter'd slept in vain, for at his Head
The Tempter watch'd, and foon with ugly dreams
Disturb'd his sleep; and either Tropic now
'Gan thunder, and both ends of Heay'n the Clouds
From many a horrid rift abortive pour'd
Fierce rain with lightning mixt, water with fire
In ruin reconcild: nor flept the winds
Within their stony caves, but rush'd abroad
From the four hinges of the world, and felt
On the vext Wilderness, whose tallest Pines,
Though rooted deep as high, and sturdiest Oaks
Bow'd their stiff necks, loaden with stormy blasts
Or torn up sheer: ill wast thou shrouded théng .
O patient Son of God, yet.only stoods
Unhaken; nor yer staid the terror there,
Infernal Ghosts, and Hellish Furies, round (öhrick'd,

, Environd thee; some howld, fome yelled, fome Some bent at thectheir fierý darts while thou

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Sat'st unappal'd in calm and finless peace. .
Thus pass’d the night so foul till morning fair
Came forth with Pilgrim steps in amice gray,
Who with her radiant finger ftilld the roar
Of thunder, chas'd the clouds, and laid the winds,
And grisly Spectres which the Fiend had rais'd
To tempt the Son of God with terrors dire.
And now the Son with more effectual beams
Had cheard the face of Earth, and dry'd the wec
From drooping plant, or dropping tree; the birds,
Who all things now behold more fresh and green,
After a night of storm fo ruinous,
Clear'd up their choicest notes in bush and spray
To gratulate the sweet return of morn;
Nor yet amidst this joy and brightest morn
Was absent, after all his mischief done,
The Prince of darkness, glad would also seem
Of this fair change, and to our Saviour came,
Yet with no new device, they all were spent,
Rather by this his last affront resolvid,
Desprate of better course;: to pent his rage,
And mad despight to be so oft repell’d,
Hìm walking on a Sunny hill he found,

Back'd

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Back'd on the North and West by a thick wood;
Out of the wood he starts in wonted shape,
And in a careless mood thus to him said.

Fair morning yet betides thee Son of God,
After a dismal night; I heard the rack
As Earth and Sky would mingle ; but my

self
Was distant; and these flaws, though mortals fear
As dang’rous to the pillar'd frame of Heav'n,[them
Or to the Earth's dark basis underneath,
Are to the main as inconsiderable,
And harmless, if not wholsom, as a sneeze
To mans less universe, and soon are gone;
Yeț as being oft times noxious where they light
On man, beast, plant, wastful and turbulent,
Like turbulencies in th' affairs of

men,
Over whose heads they rore, and seem to point,
They oft fore-fignifie and threaten ill:
This Tempest at this Defart most was bent;
Of men at thee, for only thou here dwell'ft. ·
Did I not tell thee, if thou didst reject
The perfect season offer'd with my aid
To win thy destinéd seat, but wilt prolong
All to the push of Fate, pursue thy way

Of

Of gaining David's Throne no man knows when, For both the when and how is no where told, Thou shalt be what thou art ordain'd, no doubt; For Angels have proclaim'd it, but concealing The time and means: each act is rightliest done, Not when it must, but when it

may

be best. If thou observe not this, be sure to find, What I foretold thee, many a hard assay: Of dangers, and adversities, and pains, E’er thou of Israel's Scepter get fast hold; Whereof this ominous night that clos'd thee round, So many terrors, voices, prodigies

! May warn thee, as a sure fore-going sign.

So talk'd he, while the Son of God went on And staid not, but in brief him answer'd thus.

Me worse than wet chou find'st not; other harm Those terrors which thou speak'st of, did me none; I never fear'd they could, though noising loud And threat’ning nigh, what they can do as signs Betok’ning, or ill boding, I contemn As falfe portents, not sent from God, but thee; Who knowing I shall reign past thy preventing, Obtrud'ft thy offer'd aid, that I accepting

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