with a Dooming Godhead joyn'd.
(But why, oh why! if such restraining pow'r
Can bind Omnipotence, should Kings wish more?)
A Constitution, so Divinely mixt,
Not Natures bounded Elements more fixt.
Thus Earths vast Frame with firm and solid ground, }
Stands in a foaming Ocean circled round; }
Yet This not overflowing, That not drown'd. }
But to rebuild their Altars, and enstal
Their Moulten Gods, the Sanedrin must fall;
That Constellation of the Jewish Pow'r,
All blotted from its Orb must shine no more;
Or stampt in _Pharoahs_ darling Mould, must quit
Their Native Beams, for a new-model'd Light;
Like _Egypts_ Sanedrins, their influence gone,
Flash but like empty Meteors round the Throne:
That that new Lord may _Judahs_ Scepter weild,
To whom th'old Brickill Taskmasters must yield;
Who, to erect new Temples for his Gods,
Shall th'enslav'd _Israel_ drive with Iron Rods;
If they want Bricks for his new Walls t'aspire,
To their sad cost, he'll find 'em Straw and Fire.

All this t'effect, and their new Fabrick build,
Both close Cabals and Forreign Leagues are held:
To _Babylon_ and _Egypt_ they send o're,
And both their Conduct and their Gold implore.
By such Abettors the sly Game was plaid;
One of their Chiefs a Jewish Renegade,
High-born in _Israel_, one _Michals_ Priest,
But now in _Babylons_ proud Scarlet drest.
'Tis to his Hands the Plotting Mandats come
Subscrib'd by the Apostate _Absolom_.
Nay, and to keep themselves all danger-proof,
That none might track the _Belial_ by his Hoof,
Their Correspondence veil'd from prying Eyes,
In Hieroglyphick Figures they disguise.
Husht as the Night, in which their Plots combin'd,
And silent as the Graves they had design'd,
Their Ripening Mischiefs to perfection sprung.
But oh! the much-loath'd _David_ lives too long.
Their Vultures cannot mount but from his Tomb;
And with too hungry ravenous Gorges come,
To be by airy Expectation fed.
No Prey, no Spoil, before they see Him Dead.
Yes, Dead; the Royal Sands too slowly pass,
And therefore they're resolved to break the Glass:
And to ensure Times tardy dubious Call,
Decree their Daggers should his Sythe forestall.
For th'execrable Deed a Hireling Crew
Their Hell and They pick out; whom to make true,
An Oath of Force so exquisite they frame,
Sworn in the Blood of _Israels_ Paschal Lamb.
If false, the Vengeance of that Sword that slew
_Egypts_ First-born, their perjur'd Heads pursue.
Strong was the Oath,