English

DAVID'S LAMENTATION

Both excellent they were, both equally alli'd
On Nature, and on Valour's side:
Great Saul , who scorn'd a Rival in Renown,
Yet envied not the Fame of's greater Son,
By him, endur'd to be surpass'd alone:
He gallant Prince, did his whole Father shew,
And fast, as he could set, the well-writ Copies drew,

Nor less in high Repute and Worth was his great Son,
Sole Heir of all his Valour and Renown,
Heir too (if cruel Fate had suffer'd) of his Throne:
The matchless Jonathan 'twas, whom loud-tongu'd Fame
Amongst her chiefest Heroes Joys to name,
E're since the wond'rous Deeds at Seneh done,
Where he, himself an Host, o'recame a War alone:
The trembling Enemies fled, they try'd to fly,

Lo! there the mighty Warriour lyes,
With all his Lawrels, all his Victories,
To ravenous Fowls, or worse, to his proud Foes, a Prize:
How chang'd from that great Saul! whose generous Aid,
A conqu'ring Army to distressed Jabesh led,
At whose approach Ammon 's proud Tyrant fled:
How chang'd from that great Saul ! whom we saw bring
From vanquish'd Amalek their captive Spoils and King;

For ever, Gilboa , be curst thy hated Name,
Th'eternal Monument of our Disgrace and Shame!
For ever curst be that unhappy Scene,
Where Slaughter, Blood, and Death did lately reign!
No Clouds henceforth above thy barren top appear,
But what may make thee mourning wear:
Let them ne're shake their dewy Fleeces there,
But only once a year
On the sad Anniverse drop a remembring Tear:

In Gath let not the mournful News be known,
Nor publish'd in the streets of Askalon ;
May Fame it self be quite struck dumb!
Oh may it never to Philistia come,
Nor any live to bear the cursed Tidings home!
Lest the proud Enemies new Trophies raise,
And loudly triumph in our fresh Disgrace:
No captive Israelite their pompous Joy adorn,

A H wretched Israel! once a bless'd, and happy State,
The Darling of the Stars, and Heavens Care,
Then all the bord'ring world thy Vassals were,
And thou at once their Envy and their Fear,
How soon art thou (alas!) by the sad turn of Fate
Become abandon'd and forlorn?
How art thou now become their Pity, and their scorn?
Thy Lustre all is vanish'd, all thy Glory fled,

New South Wales

For miles the Illawarra range
Runs level with Pacific seas:
What glory when the morning breeze
Upon its slopes doth shift and change
Deep pink and crimson hues, till all
The leagues-long distance seems a wall
Of swift uncurling flames of fire
That wander not nor reach up higher.

New South Wales

The amber-tinted level sands
Unbroken stretch for leagues away
Beyond these granite slabs, dull grey
And lifeless, herbless — save where stands
The mighty rock-flow'r towering high,
With carmine blooms crowned gloriously:
A giant amongst flowers it reigns,
The glory of these Austral plains.

Sunrise

The lightning-stricken giant gum
Stands leafless, dead — a giant still
But heedless of this sunrise-thrill:
What stir is this where all was dumb? —
What seem like old dead leaves break swift,
And lo, a hundred wings uplift
A cloud of birds that to and fro
Dart joyous midst the sunrise-glow.

Satyr I

By hell 'twas bravely done! what less than this?
What sacrifice of meaner worth and price
Could we have offer'd up for our success?
So fare all they, whoe're provoke our hate,
Who by like ways presume to tempt their fate;
Fare each like this bold medling Fool, and be
As well secur'd, as well dispatch'd as he:
Would he were here, yet warm, that we might drain
His reeking gore, and drink up ev'ry vein!
That were a glorious sanction, much like thine,