iving God,
Beneath the pressure of his furious wheels
The Heav'ns all rattle, and the Globe all reels?
So does this Thunder's Ape its lightning play,
Keen as Heav'ns Fires, and scarce less swift than they.
A short-liv'd glaring Murderer it flies, }
In Times least pulse, a Moments wing'd surprize; }
'Tis born, looks big, talks lowd, breaths death, and dies. }
This Mixture was th'Invention of a Priest;
The Sulphurous Ingredients all the best
Of Hells own growth: for to dire Compounds still
Hell finds the Minerals, and the Priest the Skill.

From this curst Mine they had that blow decreed,
A Moments dismal blast, as should exceed
All the Storms, Battles, Murders, Massacres,
And all the strokes of Daggers, Swords, or Spears,
Since first _Cain's_ hand at _Abels_ Head was lift:
A Blow more swift than Pestilence, more swift
Than ever a destroying Angel rod,
To pour the Vial of an angry God.

The Train was laid, the very Signal giv'n;
But here th'all-seeing, _Israels_ Guardian, Heav'n
Could hold no longer; and to stop their way,
With a kind Beam from th'Empyraean Day,
Disclos'd their hammering Thunder at the Forge;
And made their Cyclops Cave their Bolts disgorge.

Discover'd thus, thus lost, betray'd, undone,
Yet still untir'd, the Restless Cause goes on;
And to retrieve a yet auspicious day,
A glowing spark even in their Ashes lay,
Which thus burst out in flames. In _Geshur_ Land,
The utmost Bound of _Israels_ Command,
Where _Judah's_ planted Faith but slowly grew,
A Brutal Race that _Israels_ God n'er knew:
A Nation by the Conquerors Mercy grac'd,
Their Gods preserv'd, and Temples undefac'd;
Yet not content with all the Sweets of Peace,
Free their Estates, and free their Consciences;
'Gainst _Israel_ those confederate Swords they drew,
Which with that vast Assassination flew
Two hundred thousand Butcher'd Victims shar'd
One common doom: No Sex nor Age was spar'd:
Not kneeling Beauties Tears, not Virgins Cries,
Nor Infants Smiles: No prey so small but dies.
Alas, the hard-mouth'd Blood-hound, Zeal, bites through;
Religion hunts, and hungry Jaws pursue.
To what strange Rage is Superstition driven,
That Man can outdo Hell to fight for Heav'n!
So Rebel _Geshur_ fought: so drown'd in gore,
Even Mother Earth blusht at the Sons she bore;
And still asham'd of her old staining Brand,
Her Head shrinks down and Quagmires half their Land.
Yet not this blow _Baals_ Empire could enlarge