For _Israel_ still was Heav'ns peculiar charge:
Unshaken still in all this Scene of Blood,
Truths Temple firm on Golden Columns stood.
Whilst _Sauls_ Revenging Arm proud _Geshur_ scourg'd,
From their rank soyl their _Hydra's_ poyson purg'd.

Yet does not here their vanquish'd spleen give o're,
But as untir'd, and restless as before,
Still through whole waiting Ages they outdo
At once the Chimists pains and patience too.
Who though he sees his bursting Limbecks crack,
And at one blast, one fatal Minutes wrack,
The forward Hopes of sweating years expire;
With sad, yet painful hand new lights his Fire:
Pale, lean, and wan, does Health, Wealth, all consume;
Yet for the great Elixir still to come,
Toyls and hopes on. No less their Plottings cease;
So hope, so toyl, the foes of _Israels_ peace.

When lo, a long expected day appears,
Sought for above a hundred rowling years;
A day i'th' register of Doom set down,
Presents 'em with an Heir of _Israels_ Crown.
Here their vast hopes of the rich _Israels_ spoils,
Requites the pains of their long Ages Toyls.
_Baals_ Banners now i'th' face of day shall march,
With Heav'ns bright Roof for his Triumphal Arch.
His lurking Missioners shall now no more
From Forreign Schools in borrow'd shapes come o're;
Convert by Moon-light, and their Mystick Rites
Preach to poor Female half-Soul'd Proselytes.
An all-commanding Dragon now shall soar,
Where the poor Serpents onely crawl'd before.
_Baals_ Restoration, that most blest Design, }
Now the great work of Majesty, shall shine, }
Made by his consecrating hand Divine. }
He shall new plant their Groves with each blest Tree,
A graft of an Imperial Nursery.
In the kind Air of this new _Eden_ blest,
Percht on each bough, and Palaces their nest;
No more by frighting Laws forc'd t'obscure flight,
And gloomy walks, like obscene Birds of Night;
Their warbling Notes like _Philomel_ shall sing,
And like the Bird of _Paradise_ their wing.
Thus _Israels_ Heir their ravisht Souls all fired;
For all things to their ardent hopes conspired.

His very youth a Bigot Mother bred,
And tainted even the Milk on which he fed.
Him onely of her Sons design'd for _Baals_
Great Champion 'gainst _Jerusalems_ proud Walls;
Him dipt in _Stygian_ Lake, by timely craft,
Invulnerable made against Truths pointed shaft.
But to confirm his early poyson'd Faith,
'Twas in the cursed Forreign Tents of _Gath_,
'Twas there that he was lost. There _Absolon_