Who yet not only on the Town depends,
For ev'n in Court the Faction had its Friends;
These thought the Places they poffeft too small,
And in their hearts wifht Court and King to fall:
Whose Names the Muse difdaining, holds i'th' Dark,
Thruft in the Villain Herd without a Mark;
With Parafites and Libel-fpawning Imps,
Intriguing Fops, dull Jefters, and worse Pimps.
Difdain the Rafcal Rabble to purfue,

Their fet Cabals are yet a viler Crew;

See where involv'd in common fmoak they fit ;
Some for our Mirth, fome for our Satyr fit:
These gloomy, thoughtful, and on Mischief bent,,
While those for mere good Fellowship frequent
Th' appointed Club, can let Sedition pafs,
Senfe, Nonfenfe, any thing t'employ the Glass;
And who believe in their dull honeft Hearts,
The Reft talk Treafon but to fhew their Parts ;
Who ne'er had Wit or Will for Mischief yet,
But pleas'd to be reputed of a Set.

But in the Sacred Annais of our Plot, Industrious AROD never be forgot : The Labours of this Midnight-Magiftrate, May Vie with Corah's to preferve the State. In fearch of Arms, he fail'd not to lay hold On War's most powerful dangʼrous Weapon, GOLD. And laft, to take from Jebuhtes all Odds, Their Altars pillag'd, ftole their very Gods; Oft would he Cry, when Treafure he furpriz'd, 'Tis Baalifh Gold in David's Coyn Difguis'd. Which to his House with richer Reliques came, While Lumber Idols only fed the Flame: For our wife Rabble ne'er took pains t'enquire, What 'twas he burnt, fo't made a roufing Fire. With which our Elder was enricht no more Than Falfe Gehazi with the Syrian's Store; So poor, that when our Chufing-Tribes were met, Ev'n for his Stinking Votes he ran in Debt;

For Meat the Wicked, and as Authors think,
The Saints he chous'd for his Electing Drink}
Thus ev'ry Shift and subtle Method paft,
And All to be no Zaken at the laft.

Now, rais'd on Tyre's fad Ruins, Pharaoh's Pride
Soar'd high, his Legions threatning far and wide ;
As when a batt'ring Storm ingendred high,
By Winds upheld, hangs how ring in the Sky,
Is gaz'd upon by ev'ry trembling Swain,

This for his Vineyard fears, and that his Grain ;
For blooming Plants, and Flow'rs new opening, Thefe
For Lambs yean'd lately, and, far-lab'ring Bees;
To guard his Stock each to the Gods does call,
Uncertain where the Fire-charg'd Clouds will fall :"
Ev'n fo the doubtful Nations watch his Arms,
With Terror each expecting his Alarms.
Where Judah, where was now thy Lyon's Roar?
Thou only cou'dft the Captive Lands reftore;
But Thou, with inbred Broils and Faction preft,
From Egypt need'ft a Guardian with the reft.
Thy Prince from Sanhedrims no Truft allow'd,
Too much the Reprefenters of the Crowd,
Who for their own Defence give no Supply,
But what the Crown's Prerogatives muft buy:
As if their Monarch's Rights-to violate
More needful were, than to preferve the State!
From prefent Dangers they divert their Care,
And all their Fears are of the Royal Heir;
Whom now the reigning Malice of his Foes,
Unjudg'd would Sentence, and e'er Crown'd, Depofe
Religion the Pretence, but their Decree

To bar his Reign, whate'er his Faith shall be!
By Sanhedrims, and clam'rous Crowds, thus preft
What Paffions rent the Righteous David's Breaft
Who knows not how t'oppofe, or to comply,
Unjuft to Grant, and dangerous to Deny!
How near in this dark Juncture Ifrael's Fate,
Whofe Peace one fole Expedient could create,

ין

Which yet th' extreameft Virtue did require,
Ev'n of that Prince whofe Downfal they confpire!
His Abfence David does with Tears advife
T'appease their Rage. Undaunted He complies;
Thus he who prodigal of Blood and Eafe,
A Royal Life expos'd to Winds and Seas,
At once contending with the Waves and Fire,
And heading Danger in the wars of Tyre,
Inglorious now forfakes his Native Sand,
And like an Exile quits the promis'd Land!
Our Monarch scarce from preffing Tears refrains,
And painfully his Royal State maintains,
Who now embracing on th' extremeft Shore
Almoft revokes what he injoin'd before:
Concludes at laft more Truft to be allow'd
To Storms and Seas, than to the raging Crowd!
Forbear, rash Mufe, the parting Scene to draw,
With filence charm'd as deep as theirs that faw!
Not only our attending Nobles weep,

But hardy Sailors fwell with Tears the Deep!
The Tide reftrain'd her Courfe, and more amaz'd,
The Twin-ftars on the Royal Brothers gaz'd:
While this fole fear-----

Does trouble to our fuff'ring Heroe bring,
Left next the popular Rage oppress the King!
Thus parting, each for th' other's Danger griev'd,
The Shore the King, and Seas the Prince receiv'd. ̧
Go injur'd Heroe, while propitious gales,
Soft as thy Confort's breath, infpire thy fails;
Well may the truft her beauties on a flood,
Where thy triumphant Fleets so oft have rode!
Safe on thy breaft reclin'd her Reft be deep,
Rockt like a Nereid by the Waves a-fleep;
While happiest dreams her fancy entertain,
And to Elyfian Fields convert the Main!
Go injur'd Heroe, while the fhores of Tyre
At thy approach fo filent fhall admire,
Who on thy thunder ftill their thoughts imploy,
And greet thy Landing with a trembling Joy,

1

On Heroes thus the Prophet's Fate is thrown,
Admir'd by ev'ry Nation but their own;

Yet while our factious Jews his Worth deny,
Their aking Conscience gives their Tongue the lie.
Ev'n in the worst of Men the nobleft Parts
Confefs him, and he triumphs in their Hearts,
Whom to his King the best Respects commend
Of Subject, Soldier, Kinfman, Prince and Friend;
All facred Names of moft divine Esteem,
And to Perfection all fuftain'd by him,
Wife, Juft and Conftant, Courtly without Art,
Swift to difcern and to reward Defert;
No hour of his in fruitless Eafe destroy'd,
But on the nobleft Subje&t's ftill employ'd:
Whofe fteddy Soul ne'er learnt to separate
Between his Monarch's Int'reft and the State,
But heaps thofe Bleffings on the Royal Head,
Which he well knows must be on Subjects hed.

On what Pretence cou'd then the Vulgar Rage
Against his Worth, and native Rights engage?
Religious Fears their Argument are made,
Religious Fears his facred Rights invade!
Of future Superftition they complain,
And Jebufitick Worship in his Reign:

With fuch Alarms his Foes the Crowd deceive,
With Dangers fright, which not themselves believe,
Since nothing can our facred Rites remove,
Whate'er the Faith of the Succeffour prove:
Our Jews their Ark shall undisturb'd retain,
At leaft while their Religion is their Gain,
who know by old Experience Baal's Commands
Not only claim'd their Confcience, but their Lands;
They grudge God's Tythes, how therefore fhall they
An Idol full poffeffion of the Field?
[yield
Grant fuch a Prince enthron'd, we must confefs
The Peoples fuff'rings than that Monarch's lefs,
Who must to hard Conditions ftill be bound,
And for his Quiet with the Crowd compound;

Or fhou'd his Thoughts to Tyranny incline,
Where are the Means to compafs the Design?
Our Crown's Revenues are too short a ftore,
And jealous Sanhedrims wou'd give no more.
As vain our fears of Egypt's potent Aid,
Not fo has Pharoah learnt Ambition's trade, -
Nor ever with fuch measures can comply,
As fhock the common Rules of Policy;
None dread like him the growth of Ifrael's King,
And he alone fufficient Aids can bring;
Who knows that Prince to Egypt can give Law,
That on our ftubborn Tribes his Yoke cou'd draw,
At fuch profound Expence he has not stood,
Nor dy'd for this his Hands fo deep in Blood; [take,
Wou'd ne'er through wrong and right his Progrefs
Grudge his own Reft, and keep the World awake,
To fix a lawless Prince on Judah's Throne,
First to invade our Rights, and then his Own;
His dear-gain'd Conquefts cheaply to defpoil,
And reap the harveft of his Crimes and Toil.
We grant his Wealth vast as our Ocean's Sand,
And curfe its fatal Influence on our Land,
Which our brib'd Jews fo num'roufly partake,
That ev'n an Hoft his Penfioners wou'd make;
From these Deceivers our Divisions spring,
Our weakness, and the growth of Egypt's King;
These with pretended Friendship to the State,
Our Crowd's fufpicion of their Prince create,
Both pleas'd and frighten'd with the specious cry,
To guard their facred Rights and Property;
To Ruin, thus, the chofen Flock are fold,
While Wolves are ta'en for Guardians of the Fold;
Seducd by thefe, we groundlefly complain,
And loath the Manna of a gentle Reign:
Thus our Fore-fathers crooked Paths are trod,
We truft our Prince, no more than they their God.
But all in vain our Reafoning Prophets preach,
To those whom fad Experience ne'er could teach,