Leave for a while the Citie and the Court,
Go and divert your self with Country-sport;
Perhaps your Foes may then abate their spight,
And you may be forgot, when out of sight.
By your Retirement, you will let them see
You’d take away all cause of Jealousie.
That you, like Absalom, will never prove,
To court the head-strong Peoples factious Love.
96 Nor will I ever prove Achitophel,
To give you wicked Counsel to rebel.
Continue still your Loyalty, be just;
And for the Crown, God and your Vertue trust.
Endeavour not to take what may be giv’n;
Deserve it first, and then receive’t from Heav’n.

He said, And this Advice above the rest,
Suited with Azaria’s Vertue best.
He was not stain’d with Cruelty or Pride;
A thousand Graces he possest beside.
To Vertue he was naturally inclin’d,
And Goodness clothed his heroick Mind.
His Kingly Vertues made him fit to reign,
Yet scorn’d by evil Arts the Crown to gain.
And tho he Empire to desire did seem,
His Loyalty was still more dear to him:
Therefore he did not court the Peoples Love,
Nor us’d their Pow’r his Rival to remove.
From’s Father he fought not their Hearts to steal,
Nor head a Faction mov’d by blinding Zeal;
But like a vertuous and a pious Son,
Sought all occasions of Offence to shun.
In private like a common man sat down,
His Peace his Rule, his Loyalty his Crown.

Thus humble, vertuous, loyal, void of Pride,
Most of the Jews he gained to his side.
Not factious Sects, the Rabble, or the rude
Erring, unthinking, vulgar Multitude:
But the chief Tribes and Princes of the Land,
Who durst for Moses’s ancient Statutes stand.
The pious, just, religious, and the good,
Men of great Riches, and of greater Bloud,
Did, as one man, themselves together joyn
To stop the Baalites, and Hell’s curst design.
Not wicked, or seduc’d by impious Arts,
But Loyal all, and Patriots in their Hearts.
For they beheld the Baalites foul intent,
Religion to o’rethrow and Government.
97 These at the Monarch’s Power did not grutch,
Since bound by Laws, he could not have too much.
What Laws prescribe, they thought he well might have,
How could he else his Realm in danger save?
But Baal’s or Egypt’s Yoke they would refuse,
Not fitting for the Necks of free-born Jews.
They all resolve the King not to oppose,
Yet to defend the Nation from its Foes.
And were it not for those great Worthy men,
The Jews distress’d and wretched soon had been.
Among the Rout perhaps there some might blend,
Whose int’rest made them Publick Good pretend;
Weary of Peace, new Troubles would create,
And for their private Gain, embroyl the State.
And some perhaps there were, who thought a King
To be of Charge, and but an useless thing.
Some idle Fops, who publickly debate
To shew their Parts, the deep Intrigues of State;
These and some others, for a Commonwealth,
Among the Herd, unseen, might hide by stealth:
But it would strange to common Justice seem,
For some few bad, the sound Flock to condemn.
Like Goats among the Sheep, well known these bleat,
And are like Darnel ’mong the purest Wheat.
These not as Friends, but Enemies to the Throne,
Good Patriots and good Subjects did disown.
And Azaria, tho they us’d his name,
Disdain’d their Friendship with a loyal shame.

But he beheld appearing on his side,
Princes, whose Faith and Loyalty were try’d;
Such as no base or sordid ends could move,
Who did his Father and their Country love.
In the first rank of these did Nashon stand,
None nobler or more loyal in the Land.
Under the King he once did Edom sway,
And taught that Land the Jews good Laws t’obey.
True to his Word, and of unspotted Fame;
Great both in Parts, in Vertue, and in Name.
98 His Faith ne’r touch’d, his Loyalty well known,
A Friend both to his Country and the Throne.
Base ends his great and noble Soul did scorn,
Of loyal, high, and noble Parents born.
His Father with renown and great Applause,
For Joash di’d, and suffer’d for his Cause.
Of great Aminadab who would not sing,
Whose glory shin’d next to the martyr’d King?
From him his Son true Loyalty understood,
Imprest on’s Soul, seal’d with his Father’s Bloud.

In the Jews Laws, and strict Religion bred,
And Baal’s curst Rites did much abhor and dread.
His Son Eliab, in the Sanhedrim,
With courage had oppos’d Eliakim:
A man whose many Vertues, and his Parts,
Had won upon the sober Peoples Hearts.

He went not to their Synagogues to pray,
But to the Holy Temple every day.
With piercing Judgment saw the Lands Disease,
And labour’d onely for the Kingdoms Peace:
Loyal and honest was esteem’d by all,
Excepting those who strove to set up Baal.
For an ill Action he ne’r stood reprov’d;
But’s King, his Country, and Religion lov’d.
No Taint ere fell upon Eliab’s name,
Nor Hell it self found cause to spot his Fame.
Pagiel with honour loaded, and with years,
Among this Loyal Princely Train appears.
None Pagiel tax’d, for no one ever knew
That he to Amazia was untrue.
A Fame unspotted he might truly boast;
Yet he had Foes, and his gain’d Favours lost.
Zuar, a sober and a vertuous Prince,
Who never gave least cause of an offence.

Enan, a Prince of very worthie Fame;
Great in deserved Title, Bloud, and Name.
Elizur too, who number’d with the best
In Vertue, scorn’d to lag behind the rest.
Abidon and Gamaliel had some sway;
Both loyal, and both zealous in their way.
And now once more I will invoke my Muse,
To sing brave Ashur’s praise who can refuse?
Sprung from an ancient and a noble Race,
With Courage stampt upon his manly face;
Young, active, loyal; had through Dangers run,
And with his Sword abroad had Honours won:
Well-spoken, bold, free, generous, and kind,
And of a noble and discerning mind.
Great ones he scorn’d to court, nor fools would please,
But thought it better for to trust the Seas.
He thought himself far safer in a Storm,
And should receive from raging Seas less harm,
Than from those dangerous men, who could create
A Storm at Land, with Envie and with Hate.

With grief they saw the cursed Baalites bent
To batter down the Jewish Government;
To pull their Rights and true Religion down,
By setting up a Baalite on the Throne.
These wisely did with the Sanhedrim joyn;
Which Council by the Jews was thought divine.
The next Successour would remove, ’tis true,
Onely because he was a Baalite Jew.

100 But such who had possest his Royal Ear,
Had made the King his Loyal Subjects fear;
Did their good Prince with causeless terrour fright,
As if these meant to rob him of his Right.
Said, They with other Rebels did combine,
And had against his Crown some ill designe:
That the wise Hushai laid a wicked Train,
And Azaria sought in’s stead to reign:
That the old Plot to ruine Church and State,
Was born from Hushai’s and the Levite’s Pate:
That Pharisees were bold and numerous grown,
And sought to place their Elders in his Throne.
No wonder then if Amazia thought
These Loyal Worthies did not as they ought;
That they did Duty and Obedience want,
And no Concessions from the Throne would grant.

They who in Amazia’s favour grew,
Themselves obnoxious to the People knew.
Some were accused by the Sanhedrim,
Most Friends and Allies to Eliakim:
For his Succession eagerly they strove,
And him, the rising Sun, adore and love.
When Doeg, who with Egypt did combine,
And to enslave Judea did designe,
Accus’d of Treason by the Sanhedrim,
Kept in the Tower of Jerusalem;
The Object prov’d of fickle Fortunes sport,
And lost the Honours he possest at Court.
Elam in favour grew, out stript by none,
And seem’d a Prop to Amazia’s Throne.
He had in foreign parts been sent to School,
And did in Doeg’s place the Kings thin Treasure rule.
He to Eliakim was neer alli’d;
What greater parts could he possess beside?
For the wise Jews believ’d the King did run
Some hazard, if he prov’d his Father’s Son.
But now, alas! th’ Exchequer was grown poor,
The Coffers empty, which did once run o’re.
101 The bounteous King had been so very kind,
That little Treasure he had left behind.
Elam had gotten with the empty Purse,
For his dead Father’s sake the Peoples Curse:
For they believ’d that no great good could spring
From one false to his Country and his King.
Jotham the fickle Shuttle-cock of Wit,
Was bandied several ways to be made fit:
Unconstant, he always for Honour tri’d,
At last laid hold upon the rising side.
If Wit he had, ’twas thought, by not a few,
He a better thing did want, and Wisdom too.
Then Amiel would scarce give place to him,
Who once the chief was of the Sanhedrim.
He then appeared for the Crowns defence;
But spoke his own, and not the Nations sense.
And tho he praised was by Shimei’s Muse,
The Jews of many Crimes did him accuse.
Harim, a man like a bow’d Ninepence bent,
Had tried all the ways of Government:
Was once a Rebel, and knew how to cant;
Then turn’d a very Devil of a Saint:
Peevish, morose, and some say, prov’d a fool,
When o’re the Edomites he went to rule.
When to his bent the King he could not bring,
He fairly then went over to the King.
Old Amalack, a man of cunning head,
Once in the cursed School of Rebels bred;
From thence his Maximes and his Knowledge drew,
Of old known Arts how to enslave the Jew.
For pardon’d Treason, thus sought to atone,
Had wrong’d the Father, would misguide the Son.
Once in Religion a strict Pharisee,
To Baal’s then turn’d, or else of none was he.
He long before seem’d to approve their Rites,
Marrying his issue to the Baalites.
A constant hunter after sordid Pelf;
Was never just to any but himself:
A very Proteus in all shapes had been,
And constant onely, and grown old in sin.
102 To speak the best of Amalack we can,
A cunning Devil in the shape of Man.
Muppim, a man of an huge working Pate,
Not how to heal, but to embroil the State;
Knew how to take the wrong, and leave the right;
Was once himself a Rebel Benjamite.
To that stiff Tribe he did a while give Law,
And with his iron Yokes kept them in aw.
The Tyrant Zabed less did them provoke,
And laid upon their necks a gentler Yoke.
Amongst that Tribe he left an hated Name,
And to Jerusalem from thence he came,

Refus’d, the Serpent did with Woman joyn,
And Counsels gave th’Egyptian Concubine.
Adam, first Monarch, fell between these two;
What can’t the Serpent and a Woman do?
These with some more of the like size and sort,
In Sion made up Amazia’s Court:
Whilst his best friends became these Rulers scorn,
Saw how they drove, and did in silence mourn.
Sion did then no Sacrifice afford;
Gibbar had taught the frugal King to board.
Void were its Cellars, Kitchins never hot,
And all the Feasts of Solomon forgot.
Others there were, whose Names I shan’t repeat;
Eliakim had friends both small and great:
And many, who then for his Favour strove,
With their hot heads, like furious Jehu, drove.
Some Wits, some Witless, Warriors, Rich and Poor,
Some who rich Clothes and empty Titles wore;
Some who knew how to rail, some to accuse,
And some who haunted Taverns and the Stews.
Some roaring Bullies, who ran th’row the Town
Crying, God damn ’um, they’d support the Crown:
Whose wicked Oaths, and whose blasphemous Rant,
Had quite put down the holy zealous Cant.
103 Some were for War, and some on Mischief bent;
And some who could, for gain, new Plots invent.
Some Priests and Levites too among the rest,
Such as knew how to blow the Trumpet best:
Who with loud noise and cackling, cri’d like Geese,
For Rites, for Temple, and for dearer Fleece.

The Pharasees they curse, as Sons of Cham,
And all dissenting Jews to Hell they damn.
Shimei the Poet Laureate of that Age,
The falling Glory of the Jewish Stage,
Who scourg’d the Priest, and ridicul’d the Plot,
Like common men must not be quite forgot.
Sweet was the Muse that did his wit inspire,
Had he not let his hackney Muse to hire:
But variously his knowing Muse could sing,
Could Doeg praise, and could blaspheme the King:
The bad make good, good bad, and bad make worse,
Bless in Heroicks, and in Satyrs curse.
Shimei to Zabed’s praise could tune his Muse,
And Princely Azaria could abuse.
Zimri we know he had no cause to praise,
Because he dub’d him with the name of Bays.
Revenge on him did bitter Venome shed,
Because he tore the Lawrel from his head;
Because he durst with his proud Wit engage,
And brought his Follies on the publick Stage.
Tell me, Apollo, for I can’t divine,
Why Wives he curs’d, and prais’d the Concubine;
Unless it were that he had led his life
With a teeming Matron ere she was a Wife:
Or that it best with his dear Muse did sute,
Who was for hire a very Prostitute.
The rising Sun this Poets God did seem,
Which made him tune’s old Harp to praise Eliakim.
Bibbai, whose name won’t in Oblivion rot,
For his great pains to hide the Baalites Plot,
104 Must be remembred here: A Scribe was he,
Who daily damn’d in Prose the Pharisee.
With the Sectarian Jews he kept great stir;
Did almost all, but his dear self, abhor.
What his Religion was, no one could tell;
And it was thought he knew himself not well:
Yet Conscience did pretend, and did abuse,
Under the notion of Sectarian Jews,
All that he thought, or all that did but seem
Foes to Baal’s Rites, Eliakim, and him.
He was a man of a pernicious Wit
For railing, biting, and for mischief fit:
He never slept, yet ever in a Dream;
Religion, Law, and State, was all his Theam.
On these he wrote in Earnest and in Jeast,
Till he grew mad, and turn’d into a Beast,
Zattue his Zanie was, Buffoon, and Fool,
Who turn’d Religion into Ridicule:
Jeer’d at the Plot, did Sanhedrims abuse,
Mock’d Magistrates, damn’d all Sects of the Jews.
Of little Manners, and of lesser Brains;
Yet to embroil the State, took wondrous pains.
In jeasting still his little Talent lay;
At Hushai scoft in’s witless grinning way.

Then in a Pageant shew a Plot was made,
And Law it self made War in Masquerade.
But fools they were, not warn’d by former ill,
By their own selves were circumvented still.
They thought by Bloud to give the Kingdom ease;
Physick’d the Jews when they had no Disease.
Contingent mischiefs these did not foresee,
Against their Conscience fought, and God’s Decree.
What shall we think, when such, pretending good,
Would build the Nations Peace on Innocent Blood?
These would expose the People to the Sword
Of each unbounded Arbitrary Lord.
105 But their good Laws, by which they Right enjoy,
The King nor could, nor ever would destroy.
And tho he Judge be of what’s fit and just,
He own’d from Heaven, and from Man a Trust.
Tho Laws to Kingly Power be a Band,
They are not Slaves to those whom they command.
The Power that God at first to Adam gave,
Was different far from what all Kings now have:
He had no Law but Will; but all Kings now
Are bound by Laws, as all Examples show.
By Laws Kings first were made, and with intent
Men to defend, by Heav’n’s and Man’s consent.
God to the Crown the Regal Power did bring,
And by Consent at first, Men chose their King.
If Kings usurp’d a Power, by force did sway,
The People by no Law were bound t’obey.
This does not in the People place a Right
To dissolve Soveraign sway by force or might.
To Kings, by long succession, there is giv’n
A native Right unto the Throne, by Heav’n:
Who may not be run down by common Cry,
For Vice, Oppression, and for Tyranny.
But if that Kings the tyes of Laws do break,
The People, without fault, have leave to speak;
To shew their Grievances, and seek redress
By lawful means, when Kings and Lords oppress.
Tho they can’t give and take, whene’r they please,
And Kings allow’d to be God’s Images.
The Government you Tyranny must call,
Where Subjects have no Right, and Kings have all.
But if reciprocal a Right there be,
Derived down unto Posteritie,
That side’s in fault, who th’other doth invade,
By which soe’r at first the breach is made:
For Innovation is a dangerous thing,
Whether it comes from People or from King.
To change Foundations which long Ages stood,
Which have prov’d firm, unshaken, sound, and good,
To pull all down, and cast the Frame anew,
Is work for Rebels, and for Tyrants too.

106 Now what relief could Amazia bring,
Fatal indeed to be too good a King?
Friends he had many, but them did not know,
Or else made to believe they were not so:
For all that did ill Ministers oppose,
Were represented to him as his Foes.
Yet there were many thousands in those days,
Who Amazia did both love and praise;
Who for him daily pray’d, and wish’d his good,
And for him would have spent both Coin and Bloud.
Yet these, tho the more numerous, and the best,
Were call’d but murmuring Traytors by the rest:
By such who strain’d till they had crackt the string
Of Government; lov’d Pow’r, and not the King
These daily hightned Amazia’s fears,
And thus they whisper’d to his Royal Ears:

Sir, it is time you now take up the Sword,
And let your Subjects know you are their Lord.
Goodness by Rebels won’t be understood,
And you are much too wonderful and good.
The Jews, a moody, murmuring, stubborn Race,
Grow worse by Favours, and rebel with Grace.
Pamper’d they are, grown rich and fat with ease,
Whom no good Monarch long could ever please.
Freedom and Liberty pretend to want;
That’s still the cry, where they’re on Mischief bent.
Freedom is their Disease; and had they less,
They would not be so ready to transgress.
Give them but Liberty, let them alone,
They shall not onely you, but God dethrone.
Remember, Sir, how your good Father fell;
It was his goodness made them first rebel.
And now the very self-same tract they tread,
To reach your Crown, and then take off your head.
A senseless Plot they stumbl’d on, or made,
To make you of th’old Canaanites afraid.
Still when they mean the Nation to enthral,
With heavie Clamour they cry out on Baal.
107 But these hot Zealots who Baal’s Idols curse,
Bow to their own more ugly far and worse.
Baal would but rob some Jewels from your Crown,
But these would Monarchy itself pull down:
Both Church and State they’l not reform by Halves,
Pull down the Temple, and set up their Calves.
You, and your Priests, they would turn out to Graze,
Nor would they let you smell a Sacrifize,
Those pious Offerings which Priests lasie made,
To Rebels, should, instead of God be paid.
How to the Prey these factious Jews do run!
From you by art they have debauch’d your Son;
That little subtle Instrument of Hell,
Worse than to David was Achitophel,
The young Man tutors, sends him through the Land,
That he the peoples minds may understand;
That he, with winning Charms, might court the Jew,
And draw your fickle Subjects hearts from you.
Alas! already they of you Complain.
And are grown sick of your too peaceful Reign,
Their Lusts grown high, they are debauch’d with Grace,
And like unfrozen Snakes fly in your Face.
These men who now pretend to give you Law,
Stood of the Tyrant Zabed’s power in awe;
He made them crouch who scorn’d a Prince’s sway,
And forc’d them, like dull slaves, his power obey.
Of Israel, and of Juda’s Tribe you spring,
A Lion is the Ensign of a King,
Rouse up your self, in mildness sleep no more,
And make them tremble at your princely roar:
Appear like Jove with Thunder in your hand,
And let the Slaves your power understand;
Strike but the sinning Princes Down to Hell,
The rest will worship you, and ne’r rebel.

Thus these rash Men with their bad Counsels strove,
To turn to hate good Amazia’s Love.

108 But these with Art did dangers represent,
And Plots they fram’d the People never meant.
Each Mole hill they a Mountain did create,
And sought to fright him with his Fathers Fate.
Hushai at last was to a Prison sent,
As a false Traitor to the Government.
Loud murmurs then possest the troubled Jews,
Who were surprised at the fatal News;
His Wisdom they believed their chief support,
Against the evil Instruments at Court;
Nor, by his Actions, did they ever find,
He bore a Trait’rous, or a factious Mind:
And now they thought themselves expos’d to all
The Arts, and Plots of the hid friends to Baal.
Troubled, and discontented, at the last,
Their Eyes upon the noble Prince they cast.
Who fearing lest their discontent and rage,
Should them, to some rebellious Crime ingage,
Both for his Fathers, and his Countries sake,
The murmuring People sought more calm to make.
With a sweet Air, and with a graceful look,
He did command their silence, e’er he spoke.
Then thus he said, and though his words were few,
They fell like Manna, or the Hony Dew;

My Country-men, Let not your discontent
Draw you to actions you will soon repent,
What e’er your fears and jealousies may be,
Let them not break the bonds of Loyalty.
I dare, and you may too, my Father trust,
For he’s so merciful, so good, so just,
That he of no mans Life will make a Prey,
Or take it in an Arbitrary way,
To Heav’n, and to the King submit your cause,
Who never will infringe your ancient Laws;
But if he should an evil Action do,
To run to Arms, ’tis no pretence for you.
The King is Judge of what is just and fit,
And if he judge amiss you must submit,
Tho griev’d you must your constant duty pay,
And your Redress seek in a lawful way.
109 Hushai tho he of Treason be accus’d,
Such loyal precepts in my soul infus’d,
That I the hazard of my life will run,
Rather than prove my self a Rebel Son.
Our Foes, have sought to’ infect my Father’s mind,
To think, you to Rebellion are inclin’d:
To stir you to Rebellion is their aim,
And they are mad, to see you justly tame.
Upon your Heads, they fain would lay their sin,
’Tis War they seek, but would have you begin:
Pretence they want, who for the King do seem,
To bring in, and set up Eliakim.
I am afraid the Baalites cursed Plot,
By many laught at, and by most forgot,
Is carried on still, in their hidden Mine,
I fear, but dare not, the event, divine.
May Heav’n defend my Father’s Life, and late,
Full ripe with Age, in peace, may he’yield to Fate.
I know, my Friends, for Him’s your chiefest Care,
For him, as much as for your selves, you fear,
Upon his Life our happiness depends,
With it the peace of all Judea ends,
Be vigilant, your foes Designs prevent,
Let not loud murmures shew your discontent:
Your Loyal Duty to your Soveraign pay,
Your Griefs present him in a Lawful way:
Be not too anxious for our common Friend,
God, and his Innocence will him defend:
Sit down in quiet, murmure not, but pray,
Submit to Heaven, your King, and Laws obey.
Youth, Beauty, and the Grace wherewith he spoke,
The Eyes, Ears, Hearts, of all the people took,
Their murmures then to joyful shouts were turn’d,
And they rejoyc’d, who lately murmuring mourn’d:
With Loyalty he did their Breasts inflame,
And they with shouts blest Azaria’s name.
The joyful Cry th’row all the City flew,
God save the King, and Azaria too.
To him the Princes, his best Friends resort,
Resolv’d as Suppliants, to repair to Court;
110 In humble wise, to shew the King their Grief,
And on their bended Knees to seek Relief.
They ’approach’d the Throne, to it their homage paid,
Then to the King, the Loyal Nashon said.
Great Sir, whom all good Subjects truly Love,
Tho all things that you do they can’t approve,
We, whom the Throne has with high Honours blest,
Present you here the prayers of the rest;
Our bended Knees, as low as Earth we bow,
And humbly prostrate supplicate you now:
The blessing of your Love to us restore,
And raise us to your Favour, Sir, once more.
Where is the Joy, the Peace, and Quiet flown,
All had, when first you did ascend the Throne;
Now murmuring discontents assault our Ears,
And loud Complaints of jealousies, and fears:
Bad instruments help to blow up this Fire,
And with ill minds, their own worse Arts admire,
Whilst, by their means, you think your Friends your Foes,
For your best friends, your Enemies suppose;
Suspect your Loyal Subjects, and believe
The Sanhedrim would you of Rights bereive.
Your people, who do love your gentle Sway,
And willingly their God, and you obey,
Who for Religion ever zealous were,
For that, for you, and for themselves do fear.
Clear as the Sun, by sad effects they find,
A Baalite to succeed you is design’d:
Sir, they would not dispute with you, his right,
But they can n’re indure a Baalite:
Tho whilst you live, they are secure and blest,
Yet are they with a thousand fears opprest,
Think your Life still in danger of the Plot,
Which now is laugh’d at, and almost forgot.
They see the Baalites Hellish Plot run down,
And on the Pharisees a false one thrown;
Your zealous faithful Jews all Rebels made,
Their ruine hatch’d, you, and themselves betray’d.
Oh! Sir, before things to extreams do run,
Remember, at the least, you have a Son,
111 Let the Sanhedrim with your wisdom joyn,
To keep unbroken still the Royal line;
And to secure our fears, that after you,
None shall succeed but a believing Jew.
Sir, this is all your Loyal Subjects Crave,
On you, as on a God, they cry to save.
Kings are like Gods on Earth, when they redress,
Their peoples Griefs, and save them in distress.
With loads of careful thoughts, the King opprest,
And long revolving in his Royal Breast,
Th’ event of Things——at last he silence broke,
And, with an awful Majesty, he spoke.
I’ve long in Peace Judeas Scepter swaid,
None can Complain, I Justice have delay’d:
My Clemency, and Mercy has been shown,
Blood, and Revenge did ne’r pollute my Throne;
I and my People happy, kindly strove,
Which should exceed, my Mercy or their Love:
Who, till of late, more ready were to give
Supplies to me, than I was to receive.
Oh! happy days, and oh! unhappy change;
That makes my Sanhedrims, and my people strange,
And now, when I am in the Throne grown old,
With grief I see my Subjects Love prove cold.
They fear not my known Mercy to offend,
And with my awful Justice dare contend;
But yet their Crimes my mercy shan’t asswage,
I’m ready to forgive th’ offending Age,
And though they should my Kingly power slight,
I’le still keep for them my forgiving right.
I feel a tenderness within me spring,
I am my Peoples Father, and their King,
And tho I think, they may have done me wrong.
I can’t remember their offences long.
Nature is mov’d, and sues for a Reprieve,
They are my Children, and I must forgive.
My many jealous fears I shan’t repeat,
My Heart with a strong pulse of Love doth beat;
Nature I feel has made a sudden start,
And a fresh source springs from the Father’s heart.
112 A stubborn Bow, drawn by the force of men,
The force remov’d, flies swifty back agen.
’Tis hard a Fathers nature to o’ercome,
How easily does she her force assume!
Sh’ has o’er my Soul an easie Conquest won,
And I remember now I have a Son,
Whose Youth had long been my paternal Care,
Rais’d to the height his noble frame could bear,
And Heav’n has seem’d to give his Soul a turn,
As if ordain’d by Fate for Empire born.
By our known Laws I have the Scepter sway’d,
By them I govern’d, them my Rule I made.
To them I sought to frame my soveraign Will,
By them my Subjects I will govern still:

From hence I’le banish every Priest of Baal,
And the wise Sanhedrim together call:
That Body with the Kingly Head shall join,
Their Counsel and their Wisdom mix with mine,
All former strife betwixt us be forgot,
And in Oblivion buried every Plot.
We’l try to live in Love and Peace again,
As when I first began my happy Reign.
Before our Trait’rous Foes with secret toil
Did fair Judea’s blessed Peace embroil.
May all my latter days excel my first,
And he who then disturbs our Peace be curst.

He said: Th’ Almighty heard, and from on high
Spoke his Consent, in Thunder through the Skie:
The Augurie was noted by the Croud,
Who joyful shouts return’d almost as loud:
Then Amazia was once more restor’d,
He lov’d his People, they obey’d their Lord.

FINIS.