Such is thy doom, such scorn and hateful shame Await a ruthless tyrant's perishable name. III. 1. Arise, avenge his impious guilt; By the victor's thirsty hand, To distant regions let them roam, In vain they fly, their foes pursue; JII. 2. Cease, nor thy haughty trophies boast.- Save from the dome and pillared fanes The solitary owl complains; Or obscene Satyrs 'midst the ruins cry, And wake the live-long night with hideous symphony. III. 3. Swoln with the snows and drenching rain, The streams which thro' the champain take Their mazy course, With rapid force Shall deluge all the fertile plain; Around thy antique towers the fetid lake Shall spread its stagnate steams, and hïde Each vestige of thy former pride. Thus hath the LORD irrevocably sworn Who quells the guilty proud in evil hour, And leaves to future multitudes unborn The dread example of his wrathful power. Tyrants abashed, in desperation groan, And learn from others' crimes to tremble for their own. THE CURE OF SAUL.-Dr. Brown. "VENGEANCE, arise from thy infernal bed, "And pour thy tempest on his guilty head !" Thus Heaven's decree, in thunder's sound, Shook the dark abyss profound. The unchained Furies come! Pale Melancholy stalks from Hell: Th' abortive offspring of her womb, In troops they rise; And seas of horror overwhelm his soul. Haste; to Jesse's son repair: On ev'ry string soft-breathing raptures dwell, Or lull the raging storm to rest. Sunk on his couch, and loathing day, To the sad couch the shepherd now drew near; Thy pitying aid, O GOD, impart! For lo, thy arrows drink his heart! The mighty song from chaos rose.— Afound his throne the formless atoms sleep, And drowsy darkness broods upon the deep :— "Let there be light!"-Th' Almighty said: And lo, the radiant sun, Flaming from his orient bed, His endless course begun. Thy glories, too, refulgent moon, he sung; Thy solemn orb of light Guides the triumphant car of Night O'er silver clouds, and sheds a softer day! K Lead the soothing verse along : He feels, he feels the pow'r of song. Ocean hastens to his bed; The lab'ring mountain rears his rock-encumber'd head: Down his steep and shaggy side The torrent rolls his foaming tide ; Then, smooth and clear, along the fertile plain The lark, high-soaring, hails the morn. Warbles to the woodland dale. See, descending angels show'r Heav'n's own bliss on Eden's bow'r; Joys divine in circles move, Link'd with innocence and love. Hail, happy love, with innocence combin'd! They paus'd:-the monarch, prostrate on his bed, Ador'd the works of boundless pow'r divine, Then, anguish-struck, he cried (and smote his breast) Why, why is peace the welcome guest Of ev'ry heart but mine! Now let the solemn numbers flow, The messengers of Grace depart: Death glares, and shakes the dreadful dart! Hapless hapless pair, Goaded by despair, Forlorn, thro' desert climes they go ! Wake my lyre! can pity sleep, When Heav'n is mov'd and angels weep! Flow ye melting numbers, flow; 'Till he feel, that guilt is woe.— What sounds of terror and distress The dreadful thunders sound; The forked lightnings flash along the ground. Fly, ye sons of Israel, fly, Who dwells in Korah's guilty tents must die !— They sink !-Have mercy, LORD!-Their cries In dreadful tumult rise! Hark, from the deep their loud laments I hear! They lessen now, and lessen on the ear! |