This he believ’d, and on his Shield he bore,
And prais'd their Strength, but thought his omn

( was more.
The Valley now this Monster seem'd to fill;
And we (methought) look'd up t'him from our Hill.
All armd in Brass, the richest dress of War,
(A dismal glorious Sight) he fhone afar.
The Sun himself started with sudden fright,
To see his Beams return fo dismal bright.
Brass was his Helmet, his Boot brals; all o'er
Ilis Breast a thick Plate of strong Brass he wore,
llis Spear the Trunk was of a lofty Treez
Which Nature meant fome tall Ship's-Maft should be
Tnhuge Iron Head lix Hundred Shekels weigh’d,
And of trhole Bodies, but one wound it made,
Able Death's worst command to over-do,
D.stroy Life at once, and Carcass too:
Thus arm'd he stood, all direful and all gay,
And round him Aung a scornful Look away,
So when a Scythian Tyger gazing round,
An Herd of Kine in some fair Plain has found,
Lowing secure, he swells with angry Pride,
And calls forth all his Spots on ev'ry Side.
Then stops, and hurls his haughty Eyes at all,
In choice of some strong Neck on which to fall,
Almoft he scorns, so weak, fo cheap a prey,
And grieves to see them trembling haft away,

Cómley:

XVI.
A Paraphrase on the 148th Pfalm.

By the Earl of Rofcommon.
Azure Vaults! O Chryftal Sky,

The World's transparent Canopy ; Break your long Silence, and let Mortals know, With what Contempt ye look on Things below. Wing'd Squadrons of the God of War, Who conquer wherefoe'er you are; Let ecchoing Anthems make his Praises known On Earth, his Foot Stool, as in Heav'n his Throne: Great Eye of all, whose glorious Ray Rules the bright Empire of the Day; O praise hiç Name, without whose purer Light, Thou hadst been hid in an Abyss of Night.

Ye Moon and Planets, who dispense,

By God's Command, your Influence;Resign tq hin, as your Creator's due, That Veneration which Men pay to you.

Fairest, as well as first of Things,

From whom all-Joy, all Beauty Springs;O praise th’Almighty Ruler of the Globe, Who useth thee for his Empyreal Robe : Praise him ye loud harmonious Spheres, Whose facred Stamp all Nature bears,

Who did all Fornis from the rudc Chaos draw,
And whose Command is th’universal Law.

Ye watry Mountains of the Sky,
And you so far above our Eye;

Vast

Vaft ever-moving Orbs, exalt his Name,
Who gave its Being to your glorious Frame.

Ye Dragons whose contagious Breath,
Peoples the dark Retreats of Death,

-Change your fierce Hisling into joyful Song,
And praise your Maker with your forked Tongue;
Praise him ye Monsters of the deep,

That in the Sea's.vast Bofonas sleep;
At whose Command the foaming Billows roar,
Yet know their Limits. Tremble and adore,

Ye Mists and Vapours, Hail and Snow,

And you who through the Concave blow. Swift Exécutors of his holy Word, Whirlwinds and Tempests, praise the Almighty Lord,

Mountains, who to your Maker's View,

Şeen less than Mole-Hills do to you; Renienber how, when firft Jehovahe spoke, All Heaven was fire, and Sinai hid in Smoke.

Praise hin sweet Offspring of the Ground

With heavenly Nectar yearly crown'd. And ye tall Cedars, celebrate his Praise, That in his Teniple facred Altars raise.

Idle Musicians of the Spring,

Whose only Care's to love and fing,
Fly thro'the World, and let your Trembling Throat,
Praise your Creator with the fweetest Note.

Praise him each Salvage furious Beast,
That on his Stores do daily Feast.

And

And you tame Slaves of the-laborious Plow,
Your weary Knees to your Creator bow.

Majestick Monarchs, Mortal Gods,
Whose Power hath here no Periods;

May all Attempts against your Crown be vain, But still remember by whose Power you reign.

Let the wide World his Praises fing,

Where Tagus and Euphrates.spring; And from the Danube's frosty Banks, to those Where from an unknown Head great Nilus flows.

You that dispose of all our Lives,

Praise him from whom your Power derives. Be true and just like him, and fear his Word, As much as Malefactors do your Sword.

Praise him old Monuments of Time,

O praise him in your youthful Primé. Praise him fair Idols of our greedy Senfe, Exalt his Name, sweet Age of Innocence :

Jehovah's Name shall only last,

When Heaven, Earth, and all is past. Nothing, Great God, is to be found in Thee, But unconceivable Eternity.

Exalt, O Jacob's Sacred Race,

The God of Gods, the God of Grace; Who will above the Stars your Empire raise, And with his Glory recompence your praise.

XVII.

LOVE.

I'LL
'LL sing of Heroes, and of Kings,

In mighty Numbers, mighty Things,
Begin, my Muse; but lo the Strings
To my great Song rebellious prove;
The Strings will sound of nought but Love,
I broke them all, and put on new ,
'Tis this or nothing sure will do.
These fure, faid I, will me obey;
These sure Heroick Notes will play.
Straight I began with thund'ring Fove,
And all th'immortal Powers but Love.
Love smild, and from my enfeebled Lyre
Came gentle Ayres, such as inspire
Melting Love, soft Desire.
Farewel then. Heroes, farewel Kings,
And mighty Numbers, mighty Things.
Love tunes my Heart just to my Strings.

Conley

А

Mighty Pain to Love it is,

And 'tis a Pain that Pain to misso
But of all Pain, the greatest Pain
It is to love, but love in vain..
Virtue now nor noble Blood,
Nor Wit by Love is understood.

Gold