The idle product of a troubled thought,
In borrow'd shapes, and airy colours wrought;
A fancied line, and a reflected shade;
A chain which man to fetter man has made;
By artifice impos'd, by fear obey'd.
Yet, wretched name, or arbitrary thing,
Whence ever I thy cruel essence bring,
I own thy influence; for I feel thy sting.
Reluctant I perceive thee in my soul,
Form'd to command, and destin❜d to control.
Yes; thy insulting dictates shall be heard:
Virtue for once shall be her own reward:
Yes; rebel Israel, this unhappy maid
Shall be dismiss'd: the crowd shall be obey'd:
The king his passion, and his rule shall leave,
No longer Abra's, but the people's slave.
My coward soul shall bear its wayward fate:
I will, alas! be wretched, to be great,
And sigh in royalty, and grieve in state.
I said: resolv'd to plunge into my grief
At once so far, as to expect relief
From my despair alone
I chose to write the thing I durst not speak,
To her I lov'd, to her I must forsake.
The harsh epistle labour'd much to prove,
How inconsistent majesty, and love.
I always should, it said, esteem her well;
But never see her more: it bid her feel
No future pain for me; but instant wed
A lover more proportion'd to her bed ;
And quiet dedicate her remnant life
To the just duties of an humble wife.
She read; and forth to me she wildly ran, To me, the ease of all her former pain: She kneel'd, entreated, struggled, threaten'd, cried, And with alternate passion liv'd, and died: Till, now, denied the liberty to mourn, And by rude fury from my presence torn, This only object of my real care,
Cut off from hope, abandon'd to despair,
In some few posting fatal hours is hurl'd [world. From wealth, from power, from love, and from the
Here tell me, if thou dar'st, my conscious soul, What different sorrows did within thee roll? What pangs, what fires, what racks didst thou susWhat sad vicissitudes of smarting pain? [tain? How oft from pomp and state did I remove, To feed despair, and cherish hopeless love? How oft, all day, recall'd I Abra's charms, Her beauties press'd, and panting in my arms? How oft, with sighs, view'd every female face, Where mimic fancy might her likeness trace? How oft desir'd to fly from Israel's throne, And live in shades with her and love alone? How oft, all night, pursued her in my dreams, O'er flowery valleys, and through crystal streams; And waking, view'd with grief the rising sun, And fondly mourn'd the dear delusion gone? When thus the gather'd storms of wretched love, In my swoln bosom, with long war had strove ;
At length they broke their bounds: at length their
Bore down whatever met its stronger course:
Laid all the civil bonds of manhood waste:
And scatter'd ruin as the torrent past.
So from the hills, whose hollow caves contain
The congregated snow, and swelling rain;
Till the full stores their ancient bounds disdain;
Precipitate the furious torrent flows:
In vain would speed avoid, or strength oppose; Towns, forests, herds, and men promiscuous
With one great death deform the dreary ground: The echo'd woes from distant rocks resound.
And now, what impious ways my wishes took; How they the monarch, and the man forsook; And how I follow'd an abandon'd will,
Through crooked paths, and sad retreats of ill;
How Judah's daughters now, now foreign slaves,
By turns my prostituted bed receives:
Through tribes of women how I loosely rang'd
Impatient; liked to-night, to-morrow chang'd;
And, by the instinct of capricious lust,
Enjoy'd, disdain'd, was grateful, or unjust:
O, be these scenes from human eyes conceal'd,
In clouds of decent silence justly veil'd!
O, be the wanton images convey'd
To black oblivion, and eternal shade!
Or let their sad epitome alone,
And outward lines, to future age be known,
Enough to propagate the sure belief,
That vice engenders shame; and folly broods o'er
Buried in sloth, and lost in ease I lay:
The night I revell'd; and I slept the day.
New heaps of fuel damp'd my kindling fires;
And daily change extinguish'd young desires.
By its own force destroy'd, fruition ceas'd;
And, always wearied, I was never pleas'd.
No longer now does my neglected mind
Its wonted stores, and old ideas find.
Fix'd judgment there no longer does abide,
To take the true, or set the false aside.
No longer does swift memory trace the cells,
Where springing wit, or young invention dwells.
Frequent debauch to habitude prevails:
Patience of toil, and love of virtue fails.
By sad degrees impair'd my vigour dies;
Till I command no longer e'en in vice.
The women on my dotage build their sway:
They ask; I grant: they threaten; I obey.
In regal garments now I gravely stride,
Aw'd by the Persian damsel's haughty pride.
Now with the looser Syrian dance, and sing,
In robes tuck'd up, opprobrious to the king.
Charm'd by their eyes, their manners I acquire,
And shape my foolishness to their desire;
Seduc'd and aw'd by the Philistine dame,
At Dagon's shrine I kindle impious flame.
With the Chaldean's charms her rites prevail,
And curling frankincense ascends to Baal.
To each new harlot I new altars dress,
And serve her god, whose person I caress.
Where, my deluded sense, was reason flown?
Where the high majesty of David's throne?
Where all the maxims of eternal truth,
With which the living God inform'd my youth?
When with the lewd Egyptian I adore
Vain idols, deities that ne'er before
In Israel's land had fix'd their dire abodes,
Beastly divinities, and droves of gods:
Osiris, Apis, powers that chew the cud,
And dog Anubis, flatterer for his food;
When in the woody hills' forbidden shade
I carv'd the marble, and invok'd its aid:
When in the fens to snakes and flies, with zeal
Unworthy human thought, I prostrate fell;
To shrubs and plants my vile devotion paid;
And set the bearded leek, to which I pray'd:
When to all beings sacred rites were given;
Forgot the arbiter of earth and heaven.
Thro' these sad shades, this chaos in my soul,
Some seeds of light at length began to roll.
The rising motion of an infant ray
Shot glimmering thro' the cloud, and promis'd day.
And now, one moment able to reflect,
I found the king abandon'd to neglect,
Seen without awe, and served without respect.
I found my subjects amicably join,
To lessen their defects by citing mine.
The priest with pity pray'd for David's race;
And left his text, to dwell on my disgrace.
|