"O! witness Earth beneath, and Heaven above! O! yet my tortur'd senses deep retain
For can I hide it? I am sick of love;
If madness may the name of passion bear,
Or love be call'd what is indeed despair.

With unborn monarchs charg'd, and Solomons to Then in the flowery mead, or verdant shade,

And, swift into the boundless ocean borne,
Our foolish confidence too late we mourn;
Round our devoted heads the billows beat, [treat.
And from our troubled view the lessen'd lands re-
O mighty Love! from thy unbounded power
How shall the human bosom rest secure?
How shall our thought avoid the various snare?
Or Wisdom to our caution'd soul declare
The different shapes thou pleasest to employ,
When bent to hurt, and certain to destroy?
The haughty nymph, in open beauty drest,
To-day encounters our unguarded breast:
She looks with majesty, and moves with state;
Unbent her soul, and in misfortune great,
She scorns the world, and dares the rage of Fate.
Here whilst we take stern manhood for our guide,
And guard our conduct with becoming pride;
Charm'd with the courage in her action shown,
We praise her mind, the image of our own,
She that can please is certain to persuade,
To-day belov'd, to-morrow is obey'd.

We think we see through Reason's optics right,
Nor find how Beauty's rays elude our sight:
Struck with her eye, whilst we applaud her mind,
And when we speak her great, we wish her kind.
To-morrow, cruel power! thou arm'st the fair
With flowing sorrow, and dishevell'd hair;
Sad her complaint, and humble is her tale,
Her sighs explaining where her accents fail.
Here generous softness warms the honest breast;
We raise the sad, and succor the distress'd.
And, whilst our wish prepares the kind relief,
Whilst pity mitigates her rising grief,
We sicken soon from her contagious care,
Grieve for her sorrows, groan for her despair;
And against Love too late those bosoms arm,
Which tears can soften, and which sighs can warm.
Against this nearest, cruellest of foes,
What shall Wit meditate, or Force oppose?
Whence, feeble Nature, shall we summon aid,
If by our pity and our pride betray'd?
External remedy shall we hope to find, [mind;
When the close fiend has gain'd our treacherous
Insulting there does Reason's power deride,
And, blind himself, conducts the dazzled guide?
My conqueror now, my lovely Abra, held
My freedom in her chains; my heart was fill'd
With her, with her alone; in her alone
It sought its peace and joy: while she was gone,
It sigh'd and griev'd, impatient of her stay;
Return'd, she chas'd those sighs, that grief, away:
Her absence made the night, her presence brought
the day.

The ball, the play, the mask, by turns succeed:
For her I make the song, the dance with her I lead.
I court her various in each shape and dress,
That luxury may form, or thought express.

To-day, beneath the palm-tree on the plains,
In Deborah's arms and habit Abra reigns:
The wreath, denoting conquest, guides her brow,
And low, like Barak, at her feet I bow.
The mimic chorus sings her prosperous hand,
As she had slain the foe, and sav'd the land.
To-morrow she approves a softer air,
Forsakes the pomp and pageantry of war,
The form of peaceful Abigail assumes,
And from the village with the present comes.
The youthful band depose their glittering arms,
Receive her bounties, and recite her charms;

Whilst I assume my father's step and mien,
To meet with due regard my future queen.

If haply Abra's will be now inclin'd
To range the woods, or chase the flying hind,
Soon as the Sun awakes, the sprightly court
Leave their repose, and hasten to the sport.
In lessen'd royalty, and humble state,
Thy king, Jerusalem, descends to wait

Till Abra comes: she comes; a milk-white steed
Mixture of Persia's and Arabia's breed,
Sustains the nymph: her garments flying loose,
(As the Sydonian maids or Thracian use,)
And half her knee and half her breast appear,
By art, like negligence, disclos'd and bare.
Her left-hand guides the hunting courser's flight,
A silver bow she carries in her right,
And from the golden quiver at her side
Rustles the ebon arrow's feather'd pride..
Sapphires and diamonds on her front display
An artificial moon's increasing ray.
Diana, huntress, mistress of the groves,
The favorite Abra speaks, and looks, and moves.
Her, as the present goddess, I obey:
Beneath her feet the captive game I lay.
The mingled chorus sings Diana's fame:
Clarions and horns in louder peals proclaim
Her mystic praise; the vocal triumphs bound
Against the hills; the hills reflect the sound.

If, tir'd this evening with the hunted woods,
To the large fish-pools, or the glassy floods,
Her mind to-morrow points; a thousand hands,
To-night employ'd, obey the king's commands.
Upon the watery beach an artful pile

Of planks is join'd, and forms a moving isle :
A golden chariot in the midst is set,
And silver cygnets seem to feel its weight.
Abra, bright queen, ascends her gaudy throne,
In semblance of the Grecian Venus known:
Tritons and sea-green Naïads round her move,
And sing in moving strains the force of love;
Whilst, as th' approaching pageant does appear,
And echoing crowds speak mighty Venus near,
I, her adorer, too devoutly stand
Fast on the utmost margin of the land,
With arms and hopes extended, to receive
The fancied goddess rising from the wave.

O subject Reason! O imperious Love!
Whither yet further would my folly rove?
Is it enough, that Abra should be great
In the wall'd palace, or the rural seat?
That masking habits, and a borrow'd name,
Contrive to hide my plenitude of shame ?
No, no! Jerusalem combin'd must see
My open fault, and regal infamy.
Solemn a month is destin'd for the feast:
Abra invites; the nation is the guest.
To have the honor of each day sustain'd,
The woods are travers'd, and the lakes are drain'd:
Arabia's wilds, and Egypt's, are explor'd:
The edible creation decks the board:
Hardly the phenix 'scapes-

The men their lyres, the maids their voices raise,
To sing my happiness, and Abra's praise;
And slavish bards our mutual loves rehearse
In lying strains and ignominious verse:
While, from the banquet leading forth the bride,
Whom prudent Love from public eyes should hide
I show her to the world, confess'd and known
Queen of my heart, and partner of my throne.

Y

And now her friends and flatterers fill the court; Were to the forehead of the rabbins tied,
From Dan and from Beer-sheba they resort:
They barter places, and dispose of grants,
Whole provinces unequal to their wants;
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 sure.

Our youth's instruction, and our age's pride?
Could not the wise his wild desires restrain?
Then was our hearing, and his preaching, vain!
What from his life and letters were we taught,
But that his knowledge aggravates his fault?"

They gave, and she transferr'd the curs'd advice,
That monarchs should their inward soul disguise,
Dissemble and command, be false and wise;
By ignominious arts, for servile ends,

In lighter mood the humorous and the gay
(As crown'd with roses at their feasts they lay)
Sent the full goblet, charg'd with Abra's name,
And charms superior to their master's fame.
Laughing, some praise the king, who let them see
How aptly luxe and empire might agree:

Should compliment their foes, and shun their Some gloss'd, how love and wisdom were at strife, friends.

And now I leave the true and just supports

Of legal princes, and of honest courts,
Barzillai's and the fierce Benaiah's heirs,
Whose sires, 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
Those whom my follies only made me fear,
Old Corah's blood, and taunting Shimei's race;
Miscreants who ow'd their lives to David's grace,
Though they had spurn'd his rule, and curs'd him
to his face.

1

Still Abra's power, my scandal still increas'd;
Justice submitted to what Abra pleas'd:
Her will alone could settle or revoke,
And law was fix'd by what she latest spoke.
Israel neglected, Abra was my care:

I only acted, thought, and liv'd, for her.
I durst not reason with my wounded heart;
Abra possess'd; she was its better part.
O! had I now review'd the famous cause,
Which gave my righteous youth so just applause,
In vain on the dissembled mother's tongue
Had cunning art and sly persuasion hung,
And real care in vain, and native love,

In the true parent's panting breast had strove;
While both, deceiv'd, had seen the destin'd child
Or slain or sav'd, as Abra frown'd or smil'd.
Unknowing to command, proud to obey,

A lifeless king, a royal shade, I lay.
Unheard, the injur'd orphans now complain;
The widow's cries address the throne in vain.
Causes unjudg'd disgrace the loaded file,
And sleeping 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 Moses govern'd, and how David fought.
Loose and undisciplin'd the soldier lay,
Or lost in drink and game the solid day.
Porches and schools, design'd for public good,
Uncover'd, and with scaffolds cumber'd, stood,
Or nodded, threatening ruin.-

Half pillars wanted their expected height,
And roofs imperfect prejudic'd the sight.
The artists grieve; the laboring people droop:
My father's legacy, my country's hope,

God's temple, lies unfinish'd.

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 looser lives let Chance or Folly steer,
If thus the prudent and determin'd ́err.
Let Dinah bind with flowers her flowing hair,
And touch the lute, and sound the wanton air:
Let us the bliss without the sting receive,
Free, as we will, or to enjoy, or leave.
Pleasures on levity's smooth surface flow:
Thought brings the weight that sinks the soul to woe.
Now be this maxim to the king convey'd,
And added to the thousand he has made."

"Sadly, O Reason! is thy power express'd,
Thou gloomy tyrant of the frighted breast!
And harsh the rules which we from thee receive,
If for our wisdom we our pleasure give;
And more to think be only more to grieve:
If Judah's king, at thy tribunal tried,
Forsakes his joy, to vindicate his pride,
And, changing sorrows, I am only found
Loos'd from the chains of Love, in thine more
strictly bound!-

"But do I call thee tyrant, or complain
How hard thy laws, how absolute thy reign?
While thou, alas! art but an empty name,
To no two men, who e'er discours'd, the same;
The idle product of a troubled thought,
In borrow'd shapes and airy colors wrought;
A fancied 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 essence bring,

I own thy influence, for I feel thy sting.
Reluctant I perceive thee in my soul,
Form'd to command, and destin'd to control.
Yes; thy insulting dictates shall be heard;
Virtue for once shall be her own reward:
Yes; rebel Israel! this unhappy maid
Shall be dismiss'd: the crowd shall be obey'd:
The king his passion and his rule shall leave,
No longer Abra's, but the people's slave.
My coward soul shall bear its wayward fate;

I will, alas! be wretched to be great,

And sigh in royalty, and grieve in state."
I said: resolv'd to plunge into my grief

The wise and great deplor'd their monarch's fate, At once so far, as to expect relief

And future mischiefs of a sinking state.
"Is this," the serious said, "is this the man,
Whose active soul through every science ran?
Who, by just rule and elevated skill,
Prescrib'd the dubious bounds of good and ill?
Whose golden sayings, and immortal wit,
On large phylacteries expressive writ,

From my despair alone

I chose to write the thing I durst not speak
To her I lov'd, to her I must forsake.
The harsh epistle labor'd much to prove
How inconsistent majesty and love.

I always should, it said, esteem her well,
But never see 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 just duties of an humble wife.

She read, and forth to me she wildly ran,

To me, the ease of all her former pain.

By its own force destroy'd, fruition ceas'd,
And, always wearied, I was never pleas'd.
No longer now does my neglected mind

Its wonted stores and old ideas find.
Fix'd Judgment there no longer does abide,
To take the true, or set the false aside.

She kneel'd, entreated, struggled, threaten'd, cried, No longer does swift Memory trace the cells,

And with alternate passion liv'd and died:
Till, now, denied the liberty to mourn,
And by rude fury from my presence torn,
This only object of my real care,
Cut off from hope, abandon'd to despair,
In some few posting fatal hours is hurl'd

From wealth, from power, from love, and from the
world.

Where springing Wit, or young Invention, dwells.
Frequent debauch to habitude prevails;
Patience of toil, and love of virtue, fails.
By sad degrees impair'd, my vigor dies,
Till I command no longer ev'n in vice.

The women on my dotage build their sway:
They ask, I grant; they threaten, I obey.
In legal garments now I gravely stride,
Aw'd by the Persian damsel's haughty pride:
Now with the looser Syrian dance and sing,
thou In ropes tuck'd up, opprobrious to the king.

"Here tell me, if thou dar'st, my conscious soul,
What different sorrows did within thee roll?
What pangs, what fires, what racks, didst
sustain ?

What sad vicissitudes of smarting pain?
How oft from pomp and state did I remove,
To feed despair, and cherish hopeless love?
How oft, all day, recall'd I Abra's charms,
Her beauties press'd, and panting in my arms?
How oft, with sighs, view'd ev'ry female face,
Where mimic fancy might her likeness trace?
How oft desir'd to fly from Israel's throne,
And live in shades with her and Love alone?
How oft all night pursued her in my dreams,
O'er flowery valleys, and through crystal streams,
And, waking, view'd with grief the rising Sun,
And fondly mourn'd the dear delusion gone?"

When thus the gather'd storms of wretched love
In my swoln bosom, with long war had strove;
At length they broke their bounds; at length their
force

Bore down whatever met its stronger course,
Laid all the civil bonds of manhood waste,
And scatter'd ruin as the torrent past.
So from the hills, whose hollow caves contain
The congregated snow and swelling rain,
Till the full stores their ancient bounds disdain,
Precipitate the furious torrent flows:

In vain would speed avoid, or strength oppose;
Towns, forests, herds, and men, promiscuous drown'd,
With one great death deform the dreary ground:
The echoed woes from distant rocks resound.
And now, what impious ways my wishes took,
How they the monarch and the man forsook;
And how I follow'd an abandon'd will,
Through crooked paths, and sad retreats of ill;
How Judah's daughters now, now foreign slaves,
By turns my prostituted bed receives;
Through tribes of women how I loosely rang'd
Impatient: lik'd to-night, to-morrow chang'd;
And, by the instinct of capricious lust,
Enjoy'd, disdain'd, was grateful, or unjust:
O! be these scenes from human eyes conceal'd,
In clouds of decent silence justly veil'd!

O! be the wanton images convey'd

To black oblivion and eternal shade!

Or let their sad epitome alone,

And outward lines, to future age be known,

Enough to propagate the sure belief,

Charm'd by their eyes, their manners I acquire,
And shape my foolishness to their desire;
Seduc'd and aw'd by the Philistine dame,
At Dagon's shrine I kindle impious flame.
With the Chaldean's charms her rites prevail,
And curling frankincense ascends to Baal,
To each new harlot I new altars dress,
And serve her god, whose person I caress.
Where, my deluded sense, was Reason flown?
Where the high majesty of David's throne?
Where all the maxims of eternal truth,
With which the living God inform'd my youth,
When with the lewd Egyptian I adore
Vain idols, deities that ne'er before
In Israel's land had fix'd their dire abodes,
Beastly divinities, and droves of gods;
Osiris, Apis, powers that chew the cud,
And dog Anubis, flatterer for his food?
When in the woody hills' forbidden shade
I carv'd the marble, and invok'd its aid;
When in the fens to snakes and flies, with zeal
Unworthy human thought, I prostrate fell;
To shrubs and plants my vile devotion paid,
And set the bearded leek, to which I pray'd;
When to all beings sacred rites were given,
Forgot the Arbiter of Earth and Heaven?

Through these sad shades, this chaos in my soul,
Some seeds of light at length began to roll.
The rising motion of an infant ray

Shot glimmering thro' the cloud, and promis'd day
And now, one moment able to reflect,

I found the king abandon'd to neglect,

Seen without awe, and serv'd without respect.
I found my subjects amicably join
To lessen their defects by citing mine.
The priest with pity pray'd for David's race,
And left his text, to dwell on my disgrace.
The father, whilst he warn'd his erring son
The sad examples which he ought to shun,
Describ'd, and only nam'd not, Solomon.
Each bard, each sire, did to his pupil sing,
A wise child better than a foolish king."
Into myself my Reason's eye I turn'd,
And as I much reflected, much I mourn'd.
A mighty king I am, an earthly god;
Nations obey my word, and wait my nod:

That vice engenders shame, and folly broods o'er I raise or sink, imprison or set free,

And life or death depends on my decree.
Fond the idea, and the thought is vain;
O'er Judah's king ten thousand tyrants reign;
Legions of lust, and various powers of ill,
Insult the master's tributary will:

And he, from whom the nations should receive
Justice and freedom, lies himself a slave,
Tortur'd by cruel change of wild desires,
Lash'd by mad rage, and scorch'd by brutal fires.
"O Reason! once again to thee I call;
Accept my sorrow, and retrieve my fall.
Wisdom, thou say'st, from Heaven receiv'd her birth,
Her beams transmitted to the subject Earth:
Yet this great empress of the human soul
Does only with imagin'd power control,
If restless Passion, by rebellious sway,
Compels the weak usurper to obey.

"O troubled, weak, and coward, as thou art,
Without thy poor advice, the laboring heart
To worse extremes with swifter steps would run,
Not sav'd by virtue, yet by vice undone!"

Oft have I said, the praise of doing well
Is to the ear as ointment to the smell.
Now, if some flies, perchance, however small,
Into the alabaster urn should fall,

The odors of the sweets inclos'd would die,
And stench corrupt (sad change!) their place supply.
So the least faults, if mix'd with fairest deed,
Of future ill become the fatal seed;
Into the balm of purest virtue cast,
Annoy all life with one contagious blast.

Lost Solomon! pursue this thought no more:
Of thy past errors recollect the store;

And silent weep, that, while the deathless Muse
Shall sing the just, shall o'er their heads diffuse
Perfumes with lavish hand, she shall proclaim
Thy crimes alone, and, to thy evil fame
Impartial, scatter damps and poisons on thy name.
Awaking, therefore, as who long had dream'd,
Much of my women and their gods asham'd;
From this abyss of exemplary vice

Resolv'd, as time might aid my thought, to rise;
Again I bid the mournful goddess write
The fond pursuit of fugitive delight;
Bid her exalt her melancholy wing,

Now when Solomon had made an end of praying, the fire came down from Heaven, and consumed the burntoffering, and the sacrifices; and the glory of the Lord filled the house."-2 CHRON. vii. 1.

By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down; yea, we wept, when we remembered Sion," &c.-PSALM cxxxvii. 1.

"I said of laughter, It is mad; and of mirth, What doth
it?"-ECCLES. ii. 2.

"No man can find out the work that God maketh, from
the beginning to the end."-Ch. iii. 11.
"Whatsoever God doeth, it shall be for ever; nothing can
be put to it, nor any thing taken from it; and God
doeth it, that men should fear before him."-Ver. 14.

"Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter; fear
God, and keep his commandments; for this is the whole
duty of man."-Ch. xii. 13.

ARGUMENT.

Solomon considers man through the several stages
and conditions of life, and concludes, in general,
that we are all miserable. He reflects more par-
ticularly upon the trouble and uncertainty of
greatness and power; gives some instances thereof
from Adam down to himself; and still concludes
that all is vanity. He reasons again upon life,
death, and a future being; finds human wisdom
too imperfect to resolve his doubts; has recourse
to religion; is informed by an angel, what shall
happen to himself, his family, and his kingdom
till the redemption of Israel; and, upon the
whole, resolves to submit his inquiries and anxi-
eties to the will of his Creator.

COME then, my soul! I call thee by that name,
Thou busy thing, from whence I know I am :
For, knowing what I am, I know thou art;

And, rais'd from earth, and sav'd from passion, sing Since that must needs exist, which can impart.

Of human hope by cross event destroy'd,

of useless wealth and greatness unenjoy'd,

Of lust and love, with their fantastic train,

But how cam'st thou to be, or whence thy spring?
For various of thee priests and poets sing.
Bear'st thou submissive, but a lowly birth,

Their wishes, smiles, and looks, deceitful all, and Some separate particles of finer earth,

vain.

BOOK HI-POWER.

Texts chiefly alluded to in Book III.

A plain effect which Nature must beget,
As motion orders, and as atoms meet;
Companion of the body's good or ill,

From force of instinct, more than choice of will; Conscious of fear or valor, joy or pain, As the wild courses of the blood ordain; Who, as degrees of heat and cold prevail, In youth dost flourish, and with age shalt fail; Till, mingled with thy partner's latest breath, Thou fly'st dissolv'd in air, and lost in death? Or, if thy great existence would aspire To causes more sublime, of heavenly fire. Wert thou a spark struck off, a separate ray, Ordain'd to mingle with terrestrial clay; "The wind goeth towards the south, and turneth about With it condemn'd for certain years to dwell, It whirleth about continually; and To grieve its frailties, and its pain to feel; the wind returneth again, according to his circuit." To teach it good and ill, disgrace or fame,

"Or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken, or the pitcher be broken at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the cistern."-ECCLES. chap. xii. ver. 6. "The Sun ariseth, and the Sun goeth down, and hasteth to his place where he arose."-Ch. i. 5.

unto the north.

Ver. 6.

"All the rivers run into the sea: yet the sea is not full. Unto the place from whence the rivers come, thither they return again."-Ver. 7.

Pale it with rage, or redden it with shame ;
To guide its actions with informing care,
In peace to judge, to conquer in the war;
Render it agile, witty, valiant, sage,
As fits the various course of human age;

"Then shall the dust return to the earth, as it was: and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it."-Till as the earthly part decays and falls, The captive breaks her prison's mouldering walls;

Ch. xii. 7.