Rife, lovely Piety, from earthy bed,
The parted flame defcends upon thine head,
This wondrous mitre, fram'd by facred love,
And for thy triumph sent thee from above,
In two bright points with upper rays afpires,
And rounds thy temples with innocuous fires.
Rife, lovely Piety, with pomp appear,

And thou, kind Mercy, lend thy chariot here;
On either fide, fair Fame and Honour place,
Behind let Plenty walk in hand with Peace;
While Irreligion, muttering horrid found,
With fierce and proud Oppreffion backward bound,
Drag by the wheels along the dufty plain,
And gnathing lick the ground, and curfe with pain.
Now come, ye thousands, and more thousands
yet,

With order join to fill the train of state,
Souls tun'd for praising to the temple bring,
And thus amidst the sacred music fing ;
Hail, Piety! triumphant goodness, hail!
Hail, O prevailing, ever O prevail !
At thine entreaty, Juftice leaves to frown,
And wrath appeafing lays the thunder down;
The tender heart of yearning Mercy burns,
Love afks a bleffing, and the Lord returns.
In his great name that heaven and earth has made,
In his great name alone we find our aid;
Then bless the Name, and let the world adore,
From this time forward, and for evermore.

HANNAH.

Now crowds move off, retiring trumpets found,
On ethoes dying in their last rebound;
The notes of fancy feem no longer strong,
But fweetening clofes fit a private fong.

So when the storms forfake the fea's command,
To break their forces in the winding land,
No more their blasts tumultuous rage proclaim,
But fweep in murmurs o'er a murmuring stream.
Then feek the fubject, and its fong be mine,
Whose numbers, mixt in facred story, shine:
Go, brightly working thought, prepar'd to fly,
Above the page on hovering pinions lie,
And beat with ftronger force, to make thee rise
Where beauteous Hannah meets the fearching eyes.
There frame a town, and fix a tent with cords,
The town be Shiloh call'd, the tent the Lord's.
Carv'd pillars, filletted with Gilver, rear,
To close the curtains in an outward square,
But those within it, which the porch uphold,
Be finely wrought, and overlaid with gold.
Here Eli comes to take the refting feat,
Slow moving forward with a reverend gait :
Sacred in office, venerably fage,
And venerably great in filver'd age.
Here Hannah comes, a melancholy wife,
Reproach'd for barren in the marriage life;
Like fummer mornings fhe to fight appears,
Bedew'd and fhining in the midst of tears.
Her heart in bitterness of grief fhe bow'd,
And thus her wishes to the Lord fhe vow'd:
If thou thine handmaid with compaffion fee,
If L, my God! am not forgot by thee;

If in mine offspring thou prolong my line,
The child I wish for all his days be thine;
His life devoted, in thy courts be led,
And not a razor come upon his head.

So, from receffes of her inmost soul, Through moving lips her ftill devotion ftole: As filent waters glide through parted trees, Whose branches tremble with a rifing breeze. The words were loft because her heart was low, But free defire had taught the mouth to go; This Eli mark'd, and, with a voice fevere, While yet the multiply'd her thoughts in prayer, How long fhall wine, he cries, diftract thy breaft? Be gone, and lay the drunken fit by reft.

Ah! fays the mourner, count not this for fin,
It is not wine, but grief, that works within;
The fpirit of thy wretched handmaid know,
Her prayer's complaint, and her condition woe.
Then fpake the facred priest, in peace depart,
And with thy comfort God fulfil thine heart!
His blefling thus pronounc'd with awful found,
The votary bending leaves the folemn ground,
She feems confirm'd the Lord has heard her cries,
And cheerful hope the tears of trouble dries,
And makes her alter'd eyes irradiate roll,

| With joy that dawns in thought upon the foul.
Now let the town, and tent, and court remain,
And leap the time till Hannah comes again.
As painted profpects fkip along the green,
From hills to mountains eminently feen,
And leave their intervals that fink below,
In deep retreat, and unexprefs'd to show.

Behold! fhe comes (but not as once the came, To grieve, to figh, and teach her eyes to stream); Content adorns her with a lively face,

An open look, and fmiling kind of grace;
Her little Samuel in her arms the bears,
The wish of long defire, and child of prayers;
And as the facrifice fhe brought begun,
To reverend Eli fhe prefents her fon.
Here, cries the mother, here my Lord may fee
The woman come, who pray'd in grief by thee:
The child I fued for, God in bounty gave;
And what he granted, let him now receive.

But ftill the votary feels her temper move,
With all the tender violence of love,
That ftill enjoys the gift, and inly burns
To fearch for larger, or for more returns.
Then, fill'd with bleffings which allure to praife,
And rais'd by joy to foul-enchanting lays,
Thus thanks the Lord, beneficently kind,
In fweet effufions of the grateful mind:
My lifting heart, with more than common heat,
Sends up its thanks to God on every beat,
My glory, rais'd above the reach of scorn,
To God exalts its highly planted horn;
My mouth enlarg'd, mine enemics defies,
And finds in God's falvation full replies.
Oh, bright in holy beauty's power divine,
There's none whofe glory can compare with thine!
None fhare thine honours, nay, there's none
be fide,

No rock on which thy creatures can confide.
Ye proud in fpirits, who your gift adore,
Unlearn the faults, and fpeak with pride no more;

No more your words in arrogance be shown,
Nor call the works of Providence your own,
Since he that rules us infinitely knows,
And, as he wills, his acts of power difpofe.
The ftrong, whofe finewy forces arch'd the bow,
Have feen it fhatter'd by the conquering foe;
The weak have felt their nerves more firmly brace,
And new-fprung vigour in the limbs encreafe.
The full, whom vary'd tastes of plenty fed,
Have let their labour out to gain their bread.
The poor, that languish'd in a starving state,
Content and full, have ceas'd to beg their meat.
'The barren womb, no longer barren now,
(Oh, be my thanks accepted with my vow!)
In pleasure wonders at a mothers pain,
And fees her offspring, and conceives again ;
While the that glory'd in her numerous heirs,
Now broke by feeblenefs, no longer bears.

Such turns their rifing from the Lord derive,
The Lord that kills, the Lord that makes alive;
He brings by ficknefs down to gaping graves,
And, by refloring health, from fickness faves.
He makes the poor by keeping back his store,
And makes the rich by bleffing men with more;
He finking hearts with bitter grief annoys,
Or lifts them bounding with enliven'd joys.

He takes the beggar from his humble clay,
From off the dunghill where despis'd he lay,
To mix with princes in a rank fupreme,
Fill thrones of honour, and inherit fame :
For all the pillars of exalted state,
So nobly firm, fo beautifully great,
Whofe various orders bear the rounded ball,
Which would without then to confufion fall,
All are the Lord's, at his disposure stand,
And prop the govern'd world at his command.
His mercy,
still more wonderfully sweet,
Shall guard the righteous, and uphold their feet,
While, through the darkness of the wicked foul,
Amazement, dread, and desperation roll;
While envy ftops their tongues, and hopeless grief,
That fees their fears, but not their fears relief.
And they their strength as unavailing view,
Since none fhall trust in that and safety too.
The foes of Ifrael, for Ifrael's fake,

God will to pieces in his anger break ;
His bolts of thunder, from an open'd sky,
Shall on their heads, with force unerring, fly.
His voice fhall call, and all the world fhall hear,
And all for fentence at his feat appear.

But mount to gentler praises, mount again,
My thoughts, prophetic of Meffiah's reign;
Perceive the glories which around him shine,
And thus thine hymn be crown'd with grace
divine.

'Tis here the numbers find a bright repofe, The vows accepted, and the votary goes. But thou, my foul, upon her accents hang, And fweetly pleas'd with what the fweetly fung, Prolong the pleasure with thine inward cyes, Turn back thy thoughts, and see the subject rise. In her peculiar cafe, the fong begun, And for a while through private bleflings run, As through their banks the curling waters play, And foft in murmurs kifs the flowery way,

With force encreafing then the leaps the bounds
And largely flows on more extended grounds;
Spreads wide and wider, till vast seas appear,
And boundless views of Providence are here.
How swift these views along her anthem glide,
As waves on waves push forward in the tide!
How swift thy wonders o'er my fancy sweep,
O Providence, thou great unfathom'd deep!
Where refignation gently dips the wing,
And learns to love and thank, admire and fing;
But bold prefumptuous reasonings, diving down
To reach the bottom, in their diving drown.

Neglecting man, forgetful of thy ways,
Nor owns thy care, nor thinks of giving praise,
But from himself his happiness derives,
And thanks his wifdom, when by thine he thrives;
His limbs at ease in soft repose he spreads,
Bewitch'd with vain delights, on flowery beds;
And, while his sense the fragrant breezes kifs,
He meditates a waking dream of bliss;

He thinks of kingdoms, and their crowns are near;
He thinks of glories, and their rays appear;
He thinks of beauties, and a lovely face
Serenely smiles in every taking grace;
He thinks of riches, and their heaps arife,
Difplay their glittering forms, and fix his eyes;
Thus drawn with pleasures in a charming view,
Rifing he reaches, and would fain purfue.
But ftill the fleeting fhadows mock his care,
And still his fingers grafp at yielding air;
Whate'er our tempers as their comforts want,
It is not man's to take, but God's to grant.
If then, perfifting in the vain defign,
We look for blifs without an help divine,
We still may fearch, and fearch without relief,
Nor only want a bliss, but find a grief.
That fuch conviction may to fight appear,
Sit down, ye fons of men, fpectators here;
Behold a fcene upon your folly wrought,
And let this lively scene inftruct the thought.
Boy, blow the pipe until the bubble rife,
Then caft it off to float upon the skies;
Still fwell its fides with breath-O beauteous frame!
It grows, it fhines: be now the world thy name!
Methinks creation forms itfelf within,

The men, the towns, the birds, the trees, are seen;
The fkies above prefent an azure fhow,
And lovely verdure paints an earth below.
I'll wind myself in this delightful sphere,
And live a thousand years of pleasure there;
Roll'd up in bliffes, which around me close,
And now regal'd with these, and now with thofe.
Falfe hope, but falfer words of joy, farewell,
You've rent the lodging where I meant to dwell,
My bubbles burft, my profpects disappear,
And leave behind a moral and a tear.
If at the type our dreaming fouls awake,
And Hannah's ftrains their juft impreffion make,
The boundless power of Providence we know,
And fix our trust on nothing here below.
Then he, grown pleas'd that men his greatness

For which our thanks be justly fent above,
Enlarg'd by gladness, and inspir'd with love:
For which his praises be for ever sung,
O fweet employment of the grateful tongue!
Burft forth, my temper, in a godly flame,
For all his bleffings laud his holy name :
That, ere mine eyes faluted cheerful day,
A gift devoted in the womb I lay,
Like Samuel vow'd, before my breath I drew,
O could I prove in life like Samuel too!
That all my frame is exquifitely wrought,
The world enjoy'd by sense, and God by thought;
That living ftreams through living channels glide,
To make this frame by Nature's course abide;
That, for its good, by Providence's care,
Fire joins with water, earth concurs with air;
That mercy's ever-inexhausted store
Is pleas'd to proffer, and to promise more;
And all the proffers ftream with grace divine,
And all the promises with glory shine.
O praise the Lord, my soul, in one accord,
Let all that is within me praise the Lord;
O praise the Lord, my foul, and ever strive
To keep the fweet remembrances alive.
Still raife the kind affections of thine heart,
Raise every grateful word to bear a part,
With every word the ftrains of love devife,
Awake thine harp, and thou thyself arise;
Then, if his mercy be not half exprefs'd,
Let wondering filence magnify the rest.

DAVID.

7

My thought, on views of admiration hung,
Intently ravish'd, and depriv'd of tongue,
Now darts a while on earth, a while in air,
Here mov'd with praife, and mov'd with glory
there;

The joys entrancing, and the mute surprise,
Half fix the blood, and dim the moistening eyes;
Pleasure and praise on one another break,
An exclamation longs at heart to speak;
When thus my genius on the work design'd,
Awaiting closely, guides the wandering mind.
If, while thy thanks would in thy lays be
wrought,

A bright astonishment involve the thought,
If yet thy temper would attempt to fing,
Another's quill fhall imp thy feebler wing;
Behold the name of royal David near,
Behold his music, and his measures hear,
Whofe harp devotion in a rapture ftrung,
And left no state of pious fouls unfung.
Him to the wondering world but newly fhewn,
Celeftial poetry pronounc'd her own;

A thoufand hopes, on clouds adorn'd with rays,
Bent down their little beauteous forms to gaze;
Fair blooming innocence, with tender years,
And native sweetness for the ravish'd ears,
Prepar'd to fmile within his early fong,
And brought their rivers, groves, and plains along:
Majeftic honour, at the palace bred,
Enrob'd in white, embroider'd o'er with red,
Reach'd forth the fceptre of her royal fate,
His forehead touch'd, and bid his lays be great,

Undaunted courage, deck'd with manly charms,
With waving azure plumes, and gilded arms,
Difplay'd the glories and the toils of fight,
De:nanded fame, and call'd him forth to write.
To perfect thefe, the facred Spirit came,
By mild infufion of celestial flame,

And mov'd with dove-like candour in his breast,
And breath'd his graces over all the rest.
Ah! where the daring flights of men afpire,
To match his numbers with an equal fire;
In vain they strive to make proud Babel rife,
And with an earth-born labour touch the skies:
While I the glittering page refolv'd to view,
That will the fubject of my lines renew;
The laurel wreath, my fame's imagin'd fhade,
Around my beating temples fears to fade;
My fainting fancy trembles on the brink,
And David's God muft help, or else I fink.

As rolling rivers in their channels flow,
Swift from aloft, but on the level flow:
Or rage in rocks, or glide along the plains,
So juft, fo copious, move the Pfalmist's strains;
So iweetly vary'd with proportion'd heat,
So gently clear, or so fublimely great;
While Nature's feen in all her forms to fhine,
And mix with beauties drawn from Truth divine
Sweet beauties (fweet affection's endless rill)
That in the foul like honey drops diftil.

Hail, Holy Spirit, hail Supremely Kind, Whose inspiration thus enlarg'd the mind; Who taught him what the gentle fhepherd fings, What rich expreffions fuit the port of kings; What daring words defcribe the foldier's heat, And what the prophet's ecftafies relate; Nor let his worst condition be forgot, In all this fplendour of exalted thought, On one thy different forts of graces fall, Still made for each, of equal force in all; And while from heavenly courts he feels a flame, He fings the place from whence the bleffing came; And makes his infpirations sweetly prove The tuneful fubject of the mind they move. Immortal Spirit, light of life instill'd,

Who thus the bofom of a mortal fill'd,

Though weak my voice, and though my light be dim,

Yet fain I'd praise thy wondrous gifts in him;
Then, fince thine aid's attracted by defire,
And they that speak thee right muft feel thy fire,
Vouchfafe a portion of thy grace divine,
And raise my voice, and in my numbers shine:
I fing of David, David fings of thee,
Affitt the Pfalmift, and his work in me.

But now, my verse, arifing on the wing,
What part of all thy fubject wilt thou fing?
How fire thy first attempt? in what refort
Of Paleftina's plains, or Salem's court;
Where, as his hands the folemn measure play'd,
Curs'd fiends with torment and confufion fled;
Where, at the rofy spring of cheerful light,
(If pious fame record tradition right)
A foft efflation of celestial fire

Came like a rushing breeze, and fhook the lyre;
Still fweetly giving every trembling firing
So much of found, as made him wake to fing?

Within my view the country first appears,
The country firft enjoy'd his youthful years;
Then frame thy fhady landfcapes in my strain,
Some confcious mountain, or accuftom'd plain;
Where by the waters, on the grafs reclin'd,
With notes he rais'd, with notes he calm'd his
mind;

For through the paths of rural life I'll stray,
And in his pleafures paint a fhepherd's day.

With grateful fentiments, with active will,
With voice exerted, and enlivening skill,
His free return of thanks he duly paid,
And each new day new beams of bounty fhed.
Awake, my tuneful harp; awake, he cries;
Awake, my lute, the fun begins to rife;
My God, I'm ready now! then takes a flight,
To pureft Piety's exalted height:

From thence his foul, with heaven itself in view,
On humble prayers and humble praifes flew.
The praife as pleasing, and as sweet the prayer,
As incenfe curling up through morning air.

When towards the field with early steps he trod,
And gaz'd around, and own'd the works of God,
Perhaps, in fweet melodious words of praife,
He drew the profpect which adorn'd his ways;
The foil, but newly vifited with rain,
The river of the Lord with fpringing grain,
Inlarge, encrease the foften'd furrow bleft,
The year with goodness crown'd, with beauty dreft.
And fill to power divine afcribe it all,

From whofe high paths the drops of fatnefs fall;
Then in the fong the fmiling fights rejoice,
And all the mute creation finds a voice;
With thick returns delightful echoes fill
The paftur'd green, or soft afcending hill,
Rais'd by the bleatings of unnumber'd sheep,
To boast their glories in the crowds they keep.
And corn, that's waving in the western gale,
With joyful found proclaims the cover'd vale.

Whene'er his flocks the lovely fhepherd drove, To neighbouring waters, to the neighbouring grove;

To Jordan's flood, refresh'd by cooling wind,
Or Cedron's brook, to mossy banks confin'd;
in eafy notes, and guife of lowly swain, [train:
'Twas thus he charm'd and taught the liftening
The Lord's my shepherd, bountiful and good,
I cannot want, fince he provides me food;
Me for his fheep along the verdant meads,
Me, all too mean, his tender mercy leads,
To tafte the springs of life, and tafte repose
Wherever living pafture fweetly grows.
And as I cannot want, I need not fear,
For ftill the prefence of my shepherd's near;
Through darkfome vales, where beafts of prey
refort,

Where death appears with all his dreadful court,
His rod and hook direct me when i ftray,
He calls to fold, and they direct my way.

Perhaps, when feated on the river's brink,
He faw the tender sheep at noon-day drink,
He fung the land where milk and honey glide,
And fattening plenty rolls upon the tide.

Or, fix'd within the freshness of a shade, Whofe, boughs diffufe their leaves around his head

He borrow'd notions from the kind retreat,
Then fung the righteous in their happy state,
And how, by providential care, fuccels
Shall all their actions in due feafon blefs;
Sp firm they ftand, so beautiful they look,
As planted trees afide the purling brook:
Not faded by the rays that parch the plain,
Nor careful for the want of dropping rain:
The leaves fprout forth, the rising branches fhoot,
And fummer crowns them with the ripen'd fruit.
But if the flowery field, with varied hue,
And native fweetnefs, entertain'd his view;
The flowery field with all the glorious throng
Of lively colours rofe, to paint his fong;
Its pride and fall within the numbers ran,
And fpake the life of tranfitory nian.

As grafs arifes by degrees unfeen

To deck the breaft of earth with lovely green,
Till Nature's order brings the withering days,
And all the funimer's beauteous pomp decays;
So, by degrees unfeen, doth man arise,

So blooms by course, and fo by courfe he dies.
Or as her head the gaudy floweret heaves,
Spreads to the fun, and boasts her filken leaves,
Till accidental winds their glory shed,
And then they fail before the time to fade;
So man appears, fo falls in all his prime,
Ere age approaches on the steps of time.

But thee, my God! thee ftill the fame we find,
Thy glory lafting, and thy mercy kind;
That ftill the juft, and all his race, may know
No caufe to mourn their fwift account below.
When from beneath he faw the wandering

sheep

That graz'd the level, range along the steep,
Then rofe, the wanton ftragglers home to call,
Before the pearly dews at evening fall;
Perhaps new thoughts the rifing ground fupply,
And that employs his mind which fills his eye.
From pointed hills, he cries, my wishes tend,
To that great hill from whence fupports descend;
The Lord's that hill, that place of fure defence,
My wants obtain their certain help from thence.
And as large hills projected fhadows throw,
To ward the fun from off the vales below,
Or for their fafety stop the blast above,
That, with raw vapours loaded, nightly rove;
So fhall protection o'er his fervants (pread,
And I repose beneath the sacred fhade,
Unhurt by rage, that, like a fummer's day,
Destroys and fcorches with impetuous ray;
By wafting forrows, undepriv'd of reft,
That fall, like damps by moon-fhine, on the breast,
Here from the mind the profpes seem to wear,
And leave the couch'd defign appearing bare;
And now no more the fhepherd fings his hill,
But fings the fovereign Lord's protection ftill.
For as he fees the night prepar'd to come,
On wings of evening he prepares for home;
And in the fong thus adds a blefling more,
To what the thought within the figure bore:
Eternal goodness manifeftly ftill

Preferves my foul from each approach of ill :
Ends all my days, as all my days begin,
And keeps my goings, and my comings-in.

Here think the fiqking fun defcends apace, And, from thy first attempt, my fancy cease; Here bid the ruddy fhepherd quit the plain, And to the fold return his flocks again. Go, left the lion, or the fhagged bear, Thy tender lambs with favage hunger tear; Though neither bear nor lion match thy might, When in their rage they stood reveal'd to fight; Go, left thy wanton fheep returning home, Should, as they país, through doubtful darknefs

roam.

Go, ruddy youth, to Bethlem turn thy way,
On Bethlem's road conclude the parting day.

Methinks he goes as twilight leads the night,
And fees the crefcent rife with filver light;
His words confider all the sparkling show
With which the stars in golden order glow.
And what is man, he cries, that thus thy kind,
Thy wondrous love, has lodg'd him in thy
mind?

For him they glitter, him the beafts of prey,
That fcare my sheep, and these my fheep obey.
O Lord, our Lord, with how deferv'd a fame,
Does earth record the glories of thy name!
Then, as he thus devoutly walks along,
And finds the road has finish'd with the fong,
He fings, with lifted hands and lifted eyes,
Be this, my God, an evening facrifice.

But now, the lowly dales, the trembling groves,
O'er which the whisper'd breeze ferenely roves,
Leave all the coarfe of working fancy clear,
Or only grace another fubject here;
For in my purpose new designs arise,
Whofe brightening images engage mine eyes.
Then here, my verfe, thy louder accents raife,
Thy theme through lofty paths of glory trace;
Call forth his honours in imperial throngs,
And frive to touch his more exalted fongs,

While yet in humble vales his harp he trung, While yet he follow'd after ewes with young, Eternal Wildom chofe him for his own, And from the flock andyanc'd him to the throne; That there his upright heart, and prudent hand, With more diftinguish'd skill, and high command, Might act the fhepherd in a noble sphere, And take his nation into regal care. He could of mercy then, and justice Ling, Toole radiant virtues that adorn a king,

That make his reign blaze forth with bright renown,

Beyond thofe gems whose splendour decks a crown:
That fixing peace, by temper'd love and fear,
Make plains abound, and barren mountains bare.
To thee, to whom these attributes belong,
To thee, my God, he cry'd, I send my song;
To thee, from whom my regal glory came,
I fing the forms in which my court I frame;
Affift the models of imperfect fkill,
O come, with facred aid, and fix my will.
A wife behaviour in my private ways,
And all my foul difpos'd to public peace,
Shall daily ftrive to let my fubjects fee
A perfect pattern how to live, in me.
Still will I think, as ftill my glories rife,
Te fet no wicked thing before mine eyes,

Nor will I choose the favourites of flate,
Among thofe men that have incurr'd thine hate,
Whofe vice but makes them fcandalously great;
'fis time that all, whose froward rage of heart
Would vex my realm, fhall from my realm depart;
'Tis time that all, whose private flandering lie
Leads judgment falfely, shall by judgment die.
And time the great, who loose the reins to pride,
Shall with neglect and scorn be laid afide;
But o'er the tracts that my commands obey,
I'll fend my light, with fharp difarming ray,
Through dark retreats, where humble minds
abide,
[hide;
Through fhades of peace, where modeft tempers
To find the good that may fupport my state,
And, having found them, then to make them great.
My voice fhall raise them from the lonely cell,
With me to govern, and with me to dwell.
My voice fhall flattery and deceit difgrace,
And in their room exulted virtue place;
That, with an early care, and ftedfast hand,
The wicked perish from the faithful land.

When on the throne he fate in calm repose,
And with a royal hope his offspring rofe,
His prayers, anticipating time, reveal
Their deep concernment for the public weal;
Upon a good forecasted thought they run,
For common bleffings in the king begun :
For righteoufnefs and judgment strictly fair,
Which from the king defcends upon his heir.
So when his life and all his labour ceafe,
The reign fucceeding, brings fucceeding peace;
So ftill the poor fhall find impartial laws,
And orphans still a guardian of their caufe:
And ftern oppreflion have its galling yoke,
And rabid teeth of prey, to pieces broke.
Then, wondering at the glories of his way,
His friends faali love, his daunted foes obey;
For peaceful commerce neighbouring kings apply,
And with great prefents court the grand ally.
For him rich gums fhall fweet Arabia bear,
For him rich Sheba mines of gold prepare;
Him Tharus, him the foreign ifles fhall greet,
And every nation bend beneath his feet.
And thus his honours far-extended grow,
The type of great Melliah's reign below.

But worldly realms, that in his accents shine,
Are left beneath the full advanc'd defign;
When thoughts of empire in the mind increase
Q'er all the limits that determine place,
If thus the monarch's rifing fancy move
To fearch for more unbounded realms above,
In which celeftial courts the king maintains,
And o'er the vast extent of nature reigns;
He then describes, in clevated words,
His Ifrael's fhepherd, as the Lord of Lords.
How bright between the cherubims he fits,
What dazzling luftre all his throne emits;
How righteoufnefs, with judgment join'd, fup
port

The regal feat, and dignify the court;
How faireft honour, and majestic state,
The prefence grace, and strength the beauty wait
What glittering minifters around him stand,
To fly like winds, or dames, at his command.