Books: Poemata (William Cowper, trans.)
J >>
John Milton >> Poemata (William Cowper, trans.)
This eBook was produced by Eaon Walkker.
POEMATA: LATIN, GREEK AND ITALIAN POEMS BY JOHN MILTON
(Translated by William Cowper).
Digraphs, accents and italics have been omitted.
Spelling has been modernized. Some notes and Titles
have been slightly edited without comment. Notes follow
the poem to which they refer.
CONTENTS
Complimentary Pieces Addressed to the Author.
1. Elegies
Elegy I -To Charles Diodati.
Elegy II -On the Death of the University Beadle at
Cambridge.
Elegy III-On the Death of the Bishop of Winchester.
Elegy IV -To My Tutor, Thomas Young.
Elegy V -On the Approach of Spring.
Elegy VI -To Charles Diodati.
Elegy VII
On the Gunpowder Plot.
Another on the Same.
Another on the Same.
Another on the Same.
On the Invention of Gunpowder.
To Leonora, Singing in Rome.
Another to the Same.
Another to the Same.
The Fable of the Peasant and his Landlord.
2. Poems in Various Metres.
On the Death of the Vice-Chancellor, a Physician.
On the Fifth of November.
On the Death of the Bishop of Ely.
That Nature is Not Subject to Decay.
On the Platonic Ideal as Understood by Aristotle.
To My Father.
Psalm CXIV.
The Philosopher and the King.
On the Engraver of his Portrait.
To Giovanni Salzilli.
To Giovanni Battista Manso.
The Death of Damon.
To John Rouse.
3. Translations of the Italian Poems.
Appendix: To Christina, Queen of Sweden.
Appendix: Translations of Poems in the Latin Prose Works.
Appendix: Translation of a Latin Letter.
Appendix: Translations of the Italian Poems by George
MacDonald (I876).
Complimentary Pieces Addressed to the Author.
1Well as the author knows that the following testimonies are not
so much about as above him, and that men of great ingenuity, as
well as our friends, are apt, through abundant zeal, so to praise
us as rather to draw their own likeness than ours, he was yet
unwilling that the world should remain always ignorant of
compositions that do him so much honour; and especially because he
has other friends, who have, with much importunity, solicited
their publication. Aware that excessive commendation awakens envy,
he would with both hands thrust it from him, preferring just so
much of that dangerous tribute as may of right belong to him; but
at the same time he cannot deny that he sets the highest value on
the suffrages of judicious and distinguished persons.
1 Milton's Preface, Translated.
1 These complimentary pieces have been sufficiently censured
by a great authority, but no very candid judge either of Milton
or his panegyrists. He, however, must have a heart sadly
indifferent to the glory of his country, who is not gratified by
the thought that she may exult in a son whom, young as he was,
the Learned of Italy thus contended to honour.--W.C.
The Neapolitan, Giovanni Battista Manso, Marquis of Villa,
to the Englishman, John Milton.
What features, form, mien, manners, with a mind
Oh how intelligent, and how refined!
Were but thy piety from fault as free,
Thou wouldst no Angle1 but an Angel be.
1 The reader will perceive that the word "Angle" (i.e. Anglo-
Saxon) is essential, because the epigram turns upon it.--W.C.
An Epigram Addressed to the Englishman, John Milton, a Poet
Worthy of the Three Laurels of Poesy, the Grecian, Latin, and
Etruscan, by Giovanni Salzilli of Rome
Meles1 and Mincio both your urns depress!
Sebetus, boast henceforth thy Tasso less!
But let the Thames o'erpeer all floods, since he,
For Milton famed, shall, single, match the three.
1 Meles is a river of Ionia, in the neighborhood of Smyrna, whence
Homer is called Melesigenes.
The Mincio watered the city of Mantua famous as the birthplace
of Virgil.
Sebetus is now called the Fiume della Maddalena--it runs through
Naples.--W.C.
To John Milton.
Greece sound thy Homer's, Rome thy Virgil's name,
But England's Milton equals both in fame.
--Selvaggi.
To John Milton, English Gentleman.
An Ode.
Exalt Me, Clio,1 to the skies,
That I may form a starry crown,
Beyond what Helicon supplies
In laureate garlands of renown;
To nobler worth be brighter glory given,
And to a heavenly mind a recompense from heaven.
Time's wasteful hunger cannot prey
On everlasting high desert,
Nor can Oblivion steal away
Its record graven on the heart;
Lodge but an arrow, Virtue, on the bow
That binds my lyre, and death shall be a vanquished foe.
In Ocean's blazing flood enshrined.
Whose vassal tide around her swells,
Albion. from other realms disjoined,
The prowess of the world excels;
She teems with heroes that to glory rise,
With more than human force in our astonished eyes.
To Virtue, driven from other lands,
Their bosoms yield a safe retreat;
Her law alone their deed commands,
Her smiles they feel divinely sweet;
Confirm my record, Milton, generous youth!
And by true virtue prove thy virtue's praise a truth.
Zeuxis, all energy and flaine,
Set ardent forth in his career,
Urged to his task by Helen's fame,
Resounding ever in his ear;
To make his image to her beauty true,
From the collected fair each sovereign charm he drew.2
The bee, with subtlest skill endued,
Thus toils to earn her precious juice,
From all the flowery myriads strewed
O'er meadow and parterre profuse;
Confederate voices one sweet air compound,
And various chords consent in one harmonious sound.
An artist of celestial aim,
Thy genius, caught by moral grace,
With ardent emulation's flame
The steps of Virtue toiled to trace,
Observed in everv land who brightest shone,
And blending all their best, make perfect good thy own.
Front all in Florence born, or taught
Our country's sweetest accent there,
Whose works, with learned labor wrought,
Immortal honors justly share,
Then hast such treasure drawn of purest ore,
That not even Tuscan bards can boast a richer store.
Babel, confused, and with her towers
Unfinished spreading wide and plain,
Has served but to evince thy powers,
With all hot, tongues confused in vain,
Since not alone thy England's purest phrase,
But every polished realm thy various speech displays.
The secret things of heaven and earth,
By nature, too reserved. concealed
From other minds of highest worth,
To thee ate copiously revealed;
Thou knowest them clearly, and thy views attain
The utmost bounds prescribed to moral truth's domain.
Let Time no snore his wing display,
And boast his ruinous career,
For Virtue, rescued front his sway.
His injuries may cease to fear;
Since all events that claim remembrance find
A chronicle exact in thy capacious mind.
Give me, that I may praise thy song,
Thy lyre, by which alone I can,
Which, placing thee the stars among,
Already proves thee more than man;
And Thames shall seem Permessus,3 while his stream
Graced with a swan like thee. shall be my favorite theme.
I, who beside the Arno, strain
To match thy merit with my lays,
Learn, after many an effort vain,
To admure thee rather than to praise;
And that by mute astonishment alone,
Not by the fathering tongue, thy worth may best be shown.
--Signor Antonio Francini, Gentleman, of Florence.
1 The muse of History.
2 The portrait of Helen was painted at the request of the people
of Crotna, who sent to the artist all their lovliest girls for
models. Zeuxis selected five, and united their separate beauties
in his picture.
3 A river in Boeotia which took its rise in Helicon. See Virgil
Ecl. vi.64
To Mr. John Milton of London
A youth eminent from his country and his virtues,
Who in his travels has made himself acquainted with many
nations, and in his studies, with all, that, life another
Ulysses, lie might learn all that all could teach him;
Skilful in many tongues, on whose lips languages now mute so
live again, that the idioms of all are insufficient to his
praise; happy acquisition by which he understands the
universal admiration and applause his talents trace excited;
Whose endowments of mind and person move us to wonder, but at the same time fix
us immovable: whose works prompt us to
extol him, but by their beauty strike us mute;
In whose memory the whole world is treasured; in whose
intellect, wisdom; in whose heart, the ardent desire for
glory; and in whose mouth, eloquence. Who with Astronomy for
his conductor, hears the music of the spheres; with
Philosophy for the teacher, deciphers the hand-writing of
God, in those wonders of creation which proclaim His
greatness; and with the most unwearied literary industry for
his associate, examines, restores, penetrates with case the
obscurities of antiquity, the desolations of ages, and the
labyrinths of learning;
"But wherefore toil to reach these arduous heights?"
To him, in short, whose virtues the mouths of Fame are too few to celebrate, and
whom astonishment forbids us to praise
a he deserves, this tribute due to his merits, and the
offering of reverence and affection, is paid by Carlo Dati, a
patrician Florentine.
This great man's servant, and this good man's friend.
In Miltonum.1
Tres tria, sed longe distantia, saecula vates
Ostentant tribus e gentibus eximios.
Graecia sublimem, cum majestate disertum
Roma tulit, felix Anglia utrique parem.
Partubus ex binis Natura exhausta, coacta est,
Tertis ut fieret, consociare duos.
--Joannem Dridenum.
1 Translation of Dryden's Lines Printed Under the
Engraved Portrait of Milton in Tonson's Folio Edition
of "Paradise Lost," I688.
Stanzas on the Late Indecent Liberties Taken with
the Remains of the Great Milton, by Wm. Cowper, Esq.1
Me too, perchance, in future days,
The sculptur'd stone shall show,
With Paphian myrtle, or with bays
Parnessian, on my brow.
But I, before that season come,
Escap'd from ev'ry care,
Shall reach my refuge in the tomb,
And sleep securely there.
So sang in Roman tone and style
The youthful bard, ere long
Ordain'd to grace his native isle
With her sublimest song.
Who then but must conceive disdain,
Hearing the deed unblest
Of wretches who have dar'd profane
His dread sepulchral rest?
Ill fare the hands that heav'd the stones
Where Milton's ashes lay!
That trembled not to grasp his bones.
And steal his dust away!
Oh! ill-requited bard! Neglect
Thy living worth repaid,
And blind idolatrous respect
As much affronts thee dead.
1 This shocking outrage took place in I790 whilst the Church of St. Giles,
Cripplegate, was repairing. The overseers (for the sake of gain) opened a coffin
supposed to be Milton's, found a body, extracted its teeth, cut off its hair,
and left the remains to the grave-diggers, who exhibited them for money to the
public.
Forsitan & nostros ducat de marmore vultus,
Nectens aut Paphia myrti aut Parnasside lauri
Fronde comas, at ego secura pace quiescam.
--Milton. "Mansus" ("Manso")
Cowper's translation :
To honour me, and with the graceful wreath
Or of Parnassus or the Paphian isle
Shall bind my brows--but I shall rest the while."
POEMATA
1. ELEGIES
ELEGY I
To Charles Diodati.1
At length, my friend, the far-sent letters come,
Charged with thy kindness, to their destin'd home,
They come, at length, from Deva's2 Western side,
Where prone she seeks the salt Vergivian tide.3
Trust me, my joy is great that thou shouldst be,
Though born of foreign race, yet born for me,
And that my sprightly friend, now free to roam,
Must seek again so soon his wonted home.
I well content, where Thames with refluent tide
My native city laves, meantime reside, 10
Nor zeal nor duty, now, my steps impell
To reedy Cam,4 and my forbidden cell.5
Nor aught of pleasure in those fields have I,
That, to the musing bard, all shade deny.
Tis time, that I, a pedant's threats6 disdain,
And fly from wrongs, my soul will ne'er sustain.
If peaceful days, in letter'd leisure spent
Beneath my father's roof, be banishment,
Then call me banish'd, I will ne'er refuse
A name expressive of the lot I chuse. 20
I would that exiled to the Pontic shore,
Rome's hapless bard7 had suffer'd nothing more!
He then had equall'd even Homer's lays,
And, Virgil! thou hadst won but second praise.
For here I woo the Muse with no control,
And here my books--my life--absorb me whole.
Here too I visit, or to smile, or weep,
The winding theatre's majestic sweep;
The grave or gay colloquial scene recruits
My spirits spent in Learning's long pursuits. 30
Whether some Senior shrewd, or spendthrift heir,
Wooer, or soldier, now unarm'd, be there,
Or some coif'd brooder o'er a ten years' cause
Thunder the Norman gibb'rish of the laws.
The lacquey, there, oft dupes the wary sire,
And, artful, speeds th'enamour'd son's desire.
There, virgins oft, unconscious what they prove,
What love is, know not, yet, unknowing, love.
Or, if impassion'd Tragedy wield high
The bloody sceptre, give her locks to fly 40
Wild as the winds, and roll her haggard eye,
I gaze, and grieve, still cherishing my grief.
At times, e'en bitter tears! yield sweet relief.
As when from bliss untasted torn away,
Some youth dies, hapless, on his bridal day,
Or when the ghost, sent back from shades below,
Fills the assassin's heart with vengeful woe,
When Troy, or Argos, the dire scene affords,
Or Creon's hall8 laments its guilty lords.
Nor always city-pent or pent at home 50
I dwell, but when Spring calls me forth to roam
Expatiate in our proud suburban shades
Of branching elm that never sun pervades.
Here many a virgin troop I may descry,
Like stars of mildest influence, gliding by,
Oh forms divine! Oh looks that might inspire
E'en Jove himself, grown old, with young desire!
Oft have I gazed on gem-surpassing eyes,
Outsparkling every star that gilds the skies.
Necks whiter than the iv'ry arm bestow'd 60
By Jove on Pelops, or the Milky Road!
Bright locks, Love's golden snares, these falling low,
Those playing wanton o'er the graceful brow!
Cheeks too, more winning sweet than after show'r,
Adonis turn'd to Flora's fav'rite flow'r!
Yield, Heroines, yield, and ye who shar'd th'embrace
Of Jupiter in ancient times, give place;
Give place ye turban'd Fair of Persia's coast,
And ye, not less renown'd, Assyria's boast!
Submit, ye nymphs of Greece! Ye once the bloom 70
Of Ilion,9 and all ye of haughty Rome,
Who swept of old her theatres with trains
Redundant, and still live in classic strains!
To British damsels beauty's palm is due,
Aliens! to follow them is fame for you.
Oh city,10 founded by Dardanian hands,
Whose towering front the circling realm commands,
Too blest abode! no loveliness we see
In all the earth, but it abounds in thee.
The virgin multitude that daily meets, 80
Radiant with gold and beauty, in thy streets,
Outnumbers all her train of starry fires
With which Diana gilds thy lofty spires.
Fame says, that wafted hither by her doves,
With all her host of quiver-bearing Loves,
Venus, prefering Paphian scenes no more,
Has fix'd her empire on thy nobler shore.
But lest the sightless boy inforce my stay,
I leave these happy walls, while yet I may.
Immortal Moly11 shall secure my heart 90
From all the sorc'ry of Circaean art,
And I will e'en repass Cam's reedy pools
To face once more the warfare of the Schools.
Meantime accept this trifle; Rhymes, though few,
Yet such as prove thy friend's remembrance true.
1 Diodati was a schoolfellow of Milton at St. Paul's, of Italian
extraction, nephew of Giovanni Diodati, the translator of the
Bible into Italian, and son of Theodore Diodati, a physician of
eminence, who married and settled in England. charles Diodati's
early death formed the subject of The "Epitaphium Damonis" ("The
Death of Damon").
2 The Dee of Chester.
3 The Vergivian Sea, so called by Ptolemy, was the Irish Sea
between England and Ireland.
4 Cambridge.
5 Milton had been rusticated (suspended) on account of a quarrel with his tutor,
Chappell.
6 Chappell.
7 Ovid.
8 In Thebes--the guilty lords are Eteocles and Polynices the
brothers-sons of Oedipus and Jocasta, who fell in their unnatural
strife.
9 Troy.
10 London. The Dardanian (i.e. Trojan) hands are those of Brutus,
the legendary founder of London.
11 The magical plant by which Odysseus was enabled to escape from
Circe. See Homer (Odyssey, x. 370-375).
ELEGY II
On the Death of the University Beadle at Cambridge.1
Thee, whose refulgent staff and summons clear,
Minerva's flock longtime was wont t'obey,
Although thyself an herald, famous here,
The last of heralds, Death, has snatch'd away.
He calls on all alike, nor even deigns
To spare the office that himself sustains.
Thy locks were whiter than the plumes display'd
By Leda's paramour2 in ancient time,
But thou wast worthy ne'er to have decay'd,
Or, Aeson-like,3 to know a second prime, 10
Worthy for whom some Goddess should have won
New life, oft kneeling to Apollo's son.4
Commission'd to convene with hasty call
The gowned tribes, how graceful wouldst thou stand!
So stood Cyllenius5 erst in Priam's hall,
Wing-footed messenger of Jove's command,
And so, Eurybates6 when he address'd
To Peleus' son Atrides' proud behest.
Dread Queen of sepulchres! whose rig'rous laws
And watchful eyes, run through the realms below, 20
Oh, oft too adverse to Minerva's cause,
Too often to the Muse not less a foe,
Chose meaner marks, and with more equal aim
Pierce useless drones, earth's burthen and its shame!
Flow, therefore, tears for Him from ev'ry eye,
All ye disciples of the Muses, weep!
Assembling, all, in robes of sable dye,
Around his bier, lament his endless sleep,
And let complaining Elegy rehearse
In every School her sweetest saddest verse. 30
1 Richard Redding of St. John's College, M.A. He died in October,
I626.
2 The Swan--Jove had turned himself into that bird.
3 i.e. Jason, who was restored to youth by his daughter Medea.
4 Esculapius, the god of medicine.
5 Hermes.
6 One of the heralds sent to Achilles by Agamemnon.
ELEGY III
Anno Aetates 17.1
On the Death of the Bishop of Winchester.2
Silent I sat, dejected, and alone,
Making in thought the public woes my own,
When, first, arose the image in my breast
Of England's sufferings by that scourge, the pest.3
How death, his fun'ral torch and scythe in hand,
Ent'ring the lordliest mansions of the land,
Has laid the gem-illumin'd palace low,
And level'd tribes of Nobles at a blow.
I, next, deplor'd the famed fraternal pair4
Too soon to ashes turn'd and empty air, 10
The Heroes next, whom snatch'd into the skies
All Belgia saw, and follow'd with her sighs;
But Thee far most I mourn'd, regretted most,
Winton's chief shepherd and her worthiest boast;
Pour'd out in tears I thus complaining said--
Death, next in pow'r to Him who rules the Dead!
Is't not enough that all the woodlands yield
To thy fell force, and ev'ry verdant field,
That lilies, at one noisome blast of thine,
And ev'n the Cyprian Queen's own roses, pine, 20
That oaks themselves, although the running rill
Suckle their roots, must wither at thy will,
That all the winged nations, even those
Whose heav'n-directed flight the Future shows,
And all the beasts that in dark forests stray,
And all the herds of Proteus5 are thy prey?
Ah envious! arm'd with pow'rs so unconfined
Why stain thy hands with blood of Human kind?
Why take delight, with darts that never roam,
To chase a heav'n-born spirit from her home? 30
While thus I mourn'd, the star of evening stood,
Now newly ris'n, above the western flood,
And Phoebus from his morning-goal again
Had reach'd the gulphs of the Iberian main.
I wish'd repose, and, on my couch reclined
Took early rest, to night and sleep resign'd,
When--Oh for words to paint what I beheld!
I seem'd to wander in a spacious field,
Where all the champain glow'd with purple light
Like that of sun-rise on the mountain height; 40
Flow'rs over all the field, of ev'ry hue
That ever Iris wore, luxuriant grew,
Nor Chloris,6 with whom amtrous Zephyrs play,
E'er dress'd Alcinous' gardens7 half so gay.
A silver current, like the Tagus, roll'd
O'er golden sands, but sands of purer gold,
With dewy airs Favonius fann'd the flow'rs,
With airs awaken'd under rosy bow'rs.
Such poets feign, irradiated all o'er
The sun's abode on India's utmost shore. 50
While I, that splendour and the mingled shade
Of fruitful vines, with wonder fixt survey'd,
At once, with looks that beam'd celestial grace,
The Seer of Winton stood before my face.
His snowy vesture's hem descending low
His golden sandals swept, and pure as snow
New-fallen shone the mitre on his brow.
Where'er he trod, a tremulous sweet sound
Of gladness shook the flow'ry scene around:
Attendant angels clap their starry wings, 60
The trumpet shakes the sky, all aether rings,
Each chaunts his welcome, folds him to his breast,
And thus a sweeter voice than all the rest.
"Ascend, my son! thy Father's kingdom share,
My son! henceforth be free'd from ev'ry care."
So spake the voice, and at its tender close
With psaltry's sound th'Angelic band arose.
Then night retired, and chased by dawning day
The visionary bliss pass'd all away.
I mourn'd my banish'd sleep with fond concern, 70
Frequent, to me may dreams like this return.
1 i.e. "In my seventeeth year," meaning at the age of sixteen.
2 Lancelot Andrewes, Fuller's "peerless prelate."
3 The plague which ravaged England in I626.
4 Prince Christian of Brunswick, and Count Mansfelt. They were
brothers in arms and the Protestant champions. They both died in
I626.
5 Marine creatures. Proteus was the shepherd of the seas.
6 Flora.
7 See the account of his gardens in the Odyssey.
ELEGY IV.
Anno Aetates 18.
To My Tutor, Thomas Young,1
Chaplain of the English Merchants Resident at Hamburg.
Hence, my epistle--skim the Deep--fly o'er
Yon smooth expanse to the Teutonic shore!
Haste--lest a friend should grieve for thy delay--
And the Gods grant that nothing thwart thy way!
I will myself invoke the King2 who binds
In his Sicanian ecchoing vault the winds,
With Doris3 and her Nymphs, and all the throng
Of azure Gods, to speed thee safe along.
But rather, to insure thy happier haste,
Ascend Medea's chariot,4 if thou may'st, 10
Or that whence young Triptolemus5 of yore
Descended welcome on the Scythian shore.
The sands that line the German coast descried,
To opulent Hamburg turn aside,
So call'd, if legendary fame be true,
From Hama,6 whom a club-arm'd Cimbrian slew.
There lives, deep-learn'd and primitively just,
A faithful steward of his Christian trust,
My friend, and favorite inmate of my heart--
That now is forced to want its better part! 20
What mountains now, and seas, alas! how wide!
From me this other, dearer self divide,
Dear, as the sage7 renown'd for moral truth
To the prime spirit of the Attic youth!
Dear, as the Stagyrite8 to Ammon's son,9
His pupil, who disdain'd the world he won!
Nor so did Chiron, or so Phoenix shine10
In young Achilles' eyes, as He in mine.
First led by him thro' sweet Aonian11 shade
Each sacred haunt of Pindus I survey'd; 30
And favor'd by the muse, whom I implor'd,
Thrice on my lip the hallow'd stream I pour'd.
But thrice the Sun's resplendent chariot roll'd
To Aries, has new ting'd his fleece with gold,
And Chloris twice has dress'd the meadows gay,
And twice has Summer parch'd their bloom away,
Since last delighted on his looks I hung,
Or my ear drank the music of his tongue.
Fly, therefore, and surpass the tempest's speed!
Aware thyself that there is urgent need. 40
Him, ent'ring, thou shalt haply seated see
Beside his spouse, his infants on his knee,
Or turning page by page with studious look
Some bulky Father, or God's Holy Book,
Or minist'ring (which is his weightiest care)
To Christ's assembled flock their heav'nly fare.
Give him, whatever his employment be,
Such gratulation as he claims from me,
And with a down-cast eye and carriage meek
Addressing him, forget not thus to speak. 50
If, compass'd round with arms, thou canst attend
To verse, verse greets thee from a distant friend,
Long due and late I left the English shore,
But make me welcome for that cause the more.
Such from Ulysses, his chaste wife to cheer,
The slow epistle came, tho' late, sincere.
But wherefore This? why palliate I a deed,
For which the culprit's self could hardly plead?
Self-charged and self-condemn'd, his proper part
He feels neglected, with an aching heart; 60
But Thou forgive--Delinquents who confess,
And pray forgiveness, merit anger less;
From timid foes the lion turns away,
Nor yawns upon or rends a crouching prey,
Even pike-wielding Thracians learn to spare,
Won by soft influence of a suppliant's prayer;
And heav'n's dread thunderbolt arrested stands
By a cheap victim and uplifted hands.
Long had he wish'd to write, but was witheld,
And writes at last, by love alone compell'd, 70
For Fame, too often true when she alarms,
Reports thy neighbouring-fields a scene of arms;12
Thy city against fierce besiegers barr'd,
And all the Saxon Chiefs for fight prepar'd.
Enyo13 wastes thy country wide around,
And saturates with blood the tainted ground;
Mars rests contented in his Thrace no more,
But goads his steeds to fields of German gore,
The ever-verdant olive fades and dies,
And peace, the trumpet-hating goddess, flies, 80
Flies from that earth which justice long had left,
And leaves the world of its last guard bereft.
Thus horror girds thee round. Meantime alone
Thou dwell'st, and helpless in a soil unknown,
Poor, and receiving from a foreign hand
The aid denied thee in thy native land.
Oh, ruthless country, and unfeeling more
Than thy own billow-beaten chalky shore!
Leav'st Thou to foreign Care the Worthies giv'n
By providence, to guide thy steps to Heav'n? 90
His ministers, commission'd to proclaim
Eternal blessings in a Saviour's name?
Ah then most worthy! with a soul unfed
In Stygian night to lie for ever dead.
So once the venerable Tishbite stray'd
An exil'd fugitive from shade to shade,
When, flying Ahab and his Fury wife,
In lone Arabian wilds he shelter'd life;
So, from Philippi wander'd forth forlorn
Cilician Paul, with sounding scourges torn; 100
And Christ himself so left and trod no more
The thankless Gergesenes' forbidden shore.
But thou take courage, strive against despair,
Quake not with dread, nor nourish anxious care.
Grim war indeed on ev'ry side appears,
And thou art menac'd by a thousand spears,
Yet none shall drink thy blood, or shall offend
Ev'n the defenceless bosom of my friend;
For thee the Aegis of thy God shall hide,
Jehova's self shall combat on thy side, 110
The same, who vanquish'd under Sion's tow'rs
At silent midnight all Assyria's pow'rs,
The same who overthrew in ages past,
Damascus' sons that lay'd Samaria waste;
Their King he fill'd and them with fatal fears
By mimic sounds of clarions in their ears,
Of hoofs and wheels and neighings from afar
Of clanging armour and the din of war.
Thou therefore, (as the most affiicted may)
Still hope, and triumph o'er thy evil day, 120
Look forth, expecting happier times to come,
And to enjoy once more thy native home!