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< "Twould be in vain for me, with fly deceit, To plead not guilty, and my cause debate, He, whom the jarring elements obey, Who governs all things with defpotic fway, To whom all nature's open at a view, • Would soon my crime, as now he does, pursue, • Favor'd as others of that chosen race, The feed of Jacob, objects of his grace; My lot was caft in Judah's pleasant land, • Where join'd I was to a distinguish'd band, That knows God's mind, and bears his high com• mand.
Long had I dwelt in Sion's holy hill,
• And prophesy'd to men my master's will.
When, by commiffion, I was charg❜d to go,
And warn th' Affyrians of approaching woe;
Yet, much distrusting providential care,
I rather chose to fly, than perish there.
Unthinking wretch! to disobey my God,
Since fad deftruction waits his awful nod;
And they who fin against the clearest light,
• Provoke him most t' exert his vengeful might.
• Now here I stand an object of his wrath,
And, for my fake, you're all expos'd to death.
Ye charge the horrors of the deep in vain,
And, to deaf idol deities, complain.
His word, that turn'd these wat❜ry worlds to flame,
That flame to tempeft, can the tempeft tame.'
The failors now with this account amaz'd,
All trembling ftood, and on each other gaz'd.
A deadly cold ran fhiv'ring through their hearts,
Thrill'd in their veins, and froze their inward parts,
All, for the prophet, utmost pity show'd,
And, as they could, the finking veffel row'd.
But winds rage furious, fwelling billows roar,
Clouds clash with clouds, and lightnings play the more.
All nature wore confufion in her face,
And feem'd as joftled from her proper place.
Now hopes were loft, and all effays thought vain, To Jonah thus the failors turn again :
Since by thy fault (as thou didst now confess) We labor, helpless, in this fad distress,
• Tell, if thou know'ft th' Almighty's fov'reign will, • How we may beft the raging tempest ftill;
• What means are needful to appease his wrath, And fave ourselves, if poffible, from death.' The prophet, trembling, made a faint reply; • T' atone for guilt, the guilty foul must die. For me alone hath happen'd all this woe; • The ftorm is mine, not your avenging foe, Make hafte to plunge me in the swelling deep, And all your cares, and all the winds fhall fleep. Soon as the fhip of fuch a weight is eas'd,
• A calm shall spread, and juftice be appeas'd.' Again, the pitying failors ply'd their oars, With skill and strength to reach the Tarsian shores. But ceas'd, at length, t'employ a fruitless care, And thus to heaven addrefs'd their pious prayer: "O pow'rful Being! of all Gods the beft! Regard, we pray, regard our fad request.
• Thou know'ft we thirft not for thy fervant's life, Nor are we prompted by revengeful ftrife; • We covet not the riches he enjoys,
'Nor is his death our pleasure, but his choice. Thee, by his crimes, he has enrag'd, and now
Thy juftice threatens to inflict the blow.
• We inftruments are only in thy hand,
• To execute what juftice does demand.
• Then from the guilt of blood, thy fuppliants fave, 'Nor fatisfaction in thy fury crave.'
With strange reluctance the obedient crew,
Into the deep the rebel Jonah threw.
Lo! he defcends; and o'er his deftin'd head
The waters close---he's number'd with the dead.
O, fudden change! the fea is all ferene,
And gladness in each countenance is feen.
All feize their oars, and, with elated minds,
To urge their hafte, invite the willing winds :
The willing winds the spreading fail supply,
While from each fide the yielding waters fly.
Upon the tide the wanton dolphins play,
And fair in fight appears the Tarsian bay.
Now ftruck with wonder, all the failors raife
Their grateful voices to th' Almighty's praise :
Are taught with humble reverence to view
His wond'rous work, and to his wifdom bow.
No more they vainly pious tribute bring
To their falfe gods, but to th' eternal King.
Him they adore, and beg his friendly hand,
To guide 'em safe to the long-wish'd-for land.
But Jonah, whom of late no fhip could fave,
By care divine, refts in a living grave.
With ardent foul to heaven for help he pray'd,
And heaven, in pity, fent him speedy aid.
The word was giv'n, and foon the scaly herd
Forgot their hunger, and the
Proud to attend the ftranger, all draw near,
Till their huge king, Leviathan, appear,
That, as a mountain of enormous fize,
Confounds the deep, and laves the diftant fkies
O'er finny fhoals maintains despotic reign,
And rolls in ftate thro' the capacious main.
As yawns an earthquake, he, at God's command,
Strange to relate ! does his large jaws expand;
Disclose the hideous cavern of his womb,
And there, alive, the trembling feer entomb.
Now fafe within the monftrous whale he lies,
And all the force of winds and waves defies.
Where light ne'er enter'd, now he draws his breath,
And glides ferene thro' liquid paths of death.
Yet, whilft our prophet is in prison hurl'd
Thro' all the lab'rinths of the watʼry world,
By powerful faith he overcomes despair,
And, as from hell, puts up this pious prayer ;
To thee, my God, enthron'd above the sky,
• From difmal caverns of the deep I cry.
Amidft the horrors of this dreadful place
I hope for mercy, and implore thy grace.
• While thou canst pardon, tho' thou look'st severe, There's room for hope, as well as anxious fear..
Why fhould I, helpless, in my ship-wreck, mourn, Since faith a judge can to a Saviour turn?
• Tho' I'm confin'd in caverns of the main,
• Amidst my woes, I'll faith and hope maintain.
C Thou, who canft thake the centre, canft controul The rebel powers of my tumultuous foul;
• Reftrain the wild diforder of my blood,
. And fave me from the dangers of the flood.' The prophet's fuit, with faith and fervor join'd, Soon reach'd the throne, and footh'd th' Almighty's
Now thro' th' abyfs the reftlefs monfter roam'd,
And, flound'ring high, anew the billows foam'd.
In spite of nature's strong and common laws,
He's forced to expand his wide-devouring jaws,
And vomit forth, at the divine command,
Unhurt, the wond'ring prophet on the land.
Thrice had the fun his daily race renew'd,
E're Jonah, safe, his fellow creatures view'd.
A type of that far greater bliss to come,
When man's Redeemer, buried in a tomb,
Should ride victorious o'er infernal powers,
Lead captive death, and break his prifon doors!
What can't th' almighty power of God perform?
His word can raise, and fudden calm a storm.
The elements from natʼral jars he keeps,
And makes unfrozen billows ftand in heaps.
The dreadful monfters that infeft the main -
Are all obfequious fubjects of his reign.