See! how embattled Babylon

Like an unruly deluge rushes on!

Lo! the field with millions swarms!
I hear their shouts! their clashing arms!
Now the conflicting hofts engage,
With more than mortal rage !-
Oh! heaven! I faint. I die!
The yielding powers of Ifrael fly!
Now banner'd hofts furround the walls
Of Sion! now fhe finks, the falls!-

Ah! Sion, how for thee I mourn!
What pangs for thee I feel!

Ah! how art thou become the Pagans' fcorn,
Lovely, unhappy Ifrael!

A fhivering damp invades my heart,

A trembling horror fhoots through every part ;
My nodding frame can scarce sustain
Th' oppreffive load I undergo :
Speechlefs I figh! the envious woe
Forbids the very pleasure to complain :
Forbids my faultering tongue to tell
What pangs for thee I feel,
Lovely, unhappy Ifrael!

Yet though the fig-tree fhould no burthen bear,
Though vines delude the promise of the year,
Yet though the olive fhould not yield her oil,
Nor the parch'd glebe reward the peafant's toil,
Though the tir'd ox beneath his labours fall,
And herds in millions perish from the stall;

Yet fhall my grateful ftrings
For ever praise thy name,

For ever thee proclaim,

Thee everlasting God, the mighty king of kings.

To BELINDA, on her Sicknefs and Recovery.

SURE never pain fuch beauty wore,

Or look'd fo amiable before!
You graces give to a disease,

Adorn the pain, and make it please;
Thus burning incenfe fheds perfumes,
Still fragrant as it still confumes.

Nor can even ficknefs, which difarms
All other nymphs, destroy your charms;
A thousand beauties you can fpare,
And ftill be faireft of the fair.

But fee! the pain begins to fly,
Though Venus bled, fhe could not die ;
See! the new Phoenix point her eyes,

And lovelier from her ashes rife :

Thus rofes, when the form is o'er,
Draw beauties from th' inclement shower.

Welcome ye hours! which thus repay
What envious fickness ftole away !
Welcome as thofe which kindly bring,
And ufher in the joyous fpring;

That

That to the smiling earth restore

The beauteous herb, and blooming flower,
And give her all the charms the loft

By wintery ftorms, and hoary froft!

And yet how well did the sustain,
And greatly triumph o'er her pain!
So flowers, when blafting winds invade,
Breathe sweet, and beautifully fade.

Now in her cheeks, and radiant eyes,
New blushes glow, new lightnings rife;
Behold a thousand charms fucceed,
For which a thousand hearts must bleed!
Brighter from her disease she shines,
As fire the precious gold refines.

becomes

Thus when the filent grave
Pregnant with life, as fruitful wombs;
When the wide feas, and fpacious earth,
Refign us to our fecond birth;

Our moulder'd frame rebuilt affumes
New beauty, and for ever blooms;

And, crown'd with youth's immortal pride,
We angels rife, who mortals dy'd.

TO BELINDA, On her Apron embroidered with Arms and Flowers.

*

THE listening trees Amphion drew

To dance from hills, where once they grew;

But you express a power more great,
The flowers you draw not, but create.

Behold your own creation rife,
And fimile beneath your radiant eyes!
'Tis beauteous all! and yet receives
From you more graces than it gives.

But fay, amid the fofter charms
Of blooming flowers, what mean these arms?
So round the fragrance of the rose,
The pointed thorn, to guard it, grows.

But cruel you, who thus employ

Both arms and beauty to destroy !
So Venus marches to the fray
In armour, formidably gay.

VARIATION.

*The lovely Flora paints the earth,
And calls the morning flowers to birth:
But you difplay a power more great;
She calls forth flowers, but you create.

It is a dreadful pleasing fight!
The flowers attract, the arms affright;
The flowers with lively beauty bloom,
The arms denounce an instant doom.

Thus when the Britons in array
Their enfigns to the fun display,
In the fame flag are lilies shown,
And angry lions fternly frown;
On high the glittering ftandard flies,

And conquers all things---like your eyes.

Part of the XXXVIII and XXXIX Chapters of JO B.

A PARAPHRASE.

NOW from the fplendors of his bright abode

On wings of all the winds th' Almighty rode,
And the loud voice of thunder spoke the God.
Cherubs, and feraphs from cœleftial bowers,
Ten thousand thousand! bright, ethereal powers!
Miniftrant round, their radiant files unfold,
Arm'd in eternal adamant, and gold!

Whirlwinds and thundrous forms his chariot drew
'Tween worlds and worlds, triumphant as it flew :
He stretch'd his dark pavilion o'er the floods,
Bade hills fubfide, and rein'd th' obedient clouds,
Then from his awful gloom the godhead spoke,
And at his voice affrighted nature shook.