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They teach her to recede, or to debate
With toys of love to mix affairs of state;
By practis'd rules her empire to secure;
And in my pleasure make my ruin fure.
They gave, and the transfer'd the curs'd advice,
That monarchs fhould their inward foul difguife,
Diffemble and command, be false and wife;
By ignominious arts for fervile ends.

Should compliment their foes, and fhun their friends.
And now I leave the true and juft fupports
Of legal princes, and of honest courts,
Barzillai's, and the fierce Benaiah's heirs ;
Whole fires, great partners in my father's cares,
Saluted their young king at Hebron crown'd,
Great by their toil, and glorious by their wound.
And now, unhappy counsel, I prefer

Thofe whom my follies only made me fear,

Old Corah's brood, and taunting Shimei's race; Mifcreants who ow'd their lives to David's grace; Though they had fpurn'd his rule, and curs'd him to his face.

Still Abra's pow'r my fcandal ftill increas'd; Juftice fubmitted to what Abra pleas'd:

Her will alone could fettle or revoke ;
And law was fix'd by what the latest spoke.
Ifrael neglected, Abra was my care:
I only acted, thought, and liv'd for her.
I durft not reason with my wounded heart.
Abra poffefs'd; he was its better part.
O! had I now review'd the famous caufe,
Which gave my righteous youth fo juft applaufe;

In vain on the diffembled mother's tongue
Had cunning art, and fly perfuafion hung,
And real care in vain, and native love
In the true parent's panting breaft had ftrove;
While both deceiv'd had feen the deftin'd child
Or flain, or fav'd, as Abra frown'd, or fmil'd.
Unknowing to command, proud to obey,
A lifeless king, a royal fhade I lay,
Unheard the injur'd orphans now complain :
The widow's cries address the throne in vain.
'Causes unjudg'd difgrace the loaded file;
And fleeping laws the king's neglect revile.
No more the elders throng'd around my throne,
To hear my maxims, and reform their own.
No more the young nobility were taught,
How Mofes govern'd, and how David fought.
Loose and undisciplin'd the soldier lay;
Or loft in drink and game the solid day :
Porches and schools, defign'd for public good,
Uncover'd, and with fcaffolds cumber'd flood,
Or nodded, threatning ruin-

Half pillars wanted their expected height;
And roofs imperfect prejudic'd the fight.
The artifts grieve; the lab'ring people droop:
My father's legacy, my country's hope,
God's temple lies unfinish'd

The wife and grave deplor'd their monarch's fate,
And future mifchief of a finking ftate.

Is this, the ferious faid, is this the man,
Whose active foul through ev'ry science ran ?
Who by juft rule and elevated skill

Prefcrib'd the dubious bounds of good and ill?

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Whofe golden fayings, and immortal wit,
Onlarge Phylacteries expreffive writ,
Were to the forehead of the Rabbins ty'd,
Our youth's inftruction, and our age's pride?
Could not the wife his wild defires reftrain;
Then was our hearing, and his preaching vain!
What from his life and letters were we taught,
But that his knowledge aggravates his fault?

In lighter mood the humorous and the gay (As crown'd with roses at their feasts they lay) Sent the full goblets, charg'd with Abra's name, And charms fuperior to their master's fame : Laughing fome praise the king, who let 'em fee, How aptly luxe and empire might agree.: Some glofs'd, how love and wifdom were at ftrife; And brought my proverbs to confront my life. However, friend, here's to the king, one cries: To him who was the king, the friend replies. The king, for Judah's, and for wisdom's curse, To Abra yields: could I, or thou do worse ? Our loofer lives let chance or folly fteer: If thus the prudent and determin'd err. Let Dinah bind with flow'rs her flowing hair : And touch the lute, and found the wanton air: Let us the blifs without the sting receive, Free, as we will, or to enjoy, or leave. Pleasures on levity's fmooth furface flow:

Thought brings the weight, that finks the foul to woe
Now be this maxim to the king convey'd,

And added to the thousand he has made.
Sadly, O Reason, is thy pow'r express'd,
Thou gloomy tyrant of the frighted breast!

And harsh the rules, which we from thee receive;
If for our wisdom we our pleafure give;
And more to think be only more to grieve.
If Judah's King at the tribunal try'd,
Forfakes his joy, to vindicate his pride;

And changing forrows, I am only found

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Loos'd from the chains of love, in thine more strictly
But do I call thee tyrant, or complain,

How hard thy laws, how abfolute thy reign?
While thou, alas! art but an empty name,
To no two men, who e'er difcours'd the fame;
The idle product of a troubled thought,
In borrow'd fhapes, and airy colours wrought;
A fancy'd 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 effence bring,
I own thy influence; for I feel thy fting.
Reluctant I perceive thee in my foul,

Form'd to command, and deftin'd to controul.
Yes; thy infulting dictates fhall be heard:
Virtue for once fhall be her own reward:
Yes; rebel Ifrael, this unhappy maid
Shall be difmifs'd: the croud fhall be obey'd:
The king his paffion, and his rule shall leave,
No longer Abra's, but the people's flave.
My coward foul fhall bear its wayward fate:
I will, alas! be wretched, to be great,
And figh in royalty, and grieve in state.

I faid: refolv'd to plunge into my grief

At once fo far, as to expect relief

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From my despair alone-

I chofe to write the thing I durft not speak,
To her I lov'd; to her I must forfake.
The harsh epiftle labour'd much to prove,
How inconfiftent majefty, and love.

I always fhould, it faid, efteem her well;
But never fee 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 juft duties of an humble wife.

She read; and forth to me the wildly ran, To me, the ease of all her former pain. She-kneel'd, intreated, struggled, threaten'd, cry'd, And with alternate paffion liv'd and dy'd: Till now deny'd the liberty to mourn, And by rude fury from my prefence torn, This only object of my real care, Cut off from hope, abandon'd to defpair, In fome few posting fatal hours is hurl'd

From wealth, from pow'r, from love, and from the world.

Here tell me, if thou dar'st, my conscious soul, What diff'rent forrows did within thee roll?

What pangs, what fires, what racks didft thou fuftain ?
What fad viciffitudes of fmarting pain?

How oft from pomp and state did I remove,
To feed defpair, and cherish hopeless love?
How oft, all day, recall'd I Abra's charms,
Her beauties prefs'd, and panting in my arms?
How oft, with fighs, view'd ev'ry female face,
Where mimic fancy might her likeness trace ?
VOL. II.
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