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I must approach the spot where he is laid, Lest from the royal gardens any 'spy me: -Poor babe! ere this the pressing calls of hunger [waves, Have broke thy short repose; the chilling Ere this have drench'd thy little shiv'ring limbs. [sees me! What must my babe have suffer'd-Noone But soft, does no one listen!-Ah! how hard,

How very hard for fondness to be prudent! Now is the moment to embrace and feed him. [She looks out.

Where's Miriam? she has left her little charge,

Perhaps through fear; perhaps she was detected.

How wild is thought! how terrible conjecture !

A mother's fondness frames a thousand fears, With thrilling nerve feels every real ill, And shapes imagin'd miseries into being.

[She looks towards the river. Ah me! where is he? soul-distracting sight! He is not there-he's lost, he's gone, he's Toss'd by each beating surge my infant

drown'd!

floats.

Cold, cold, and watʼry is thy grave, my child! O no-I see the ark-transporting sight!

[She goes towards it.

I have it here-Alas, the ark is empty! The casket's left, the precious gem is gone! You spar'd him, pitying spirits of the deep! But vain your mercy; some insatiate beast, Cruel as Pharaoh, took the life you spar'dAnd I shall never, never see my boy!

Enter MIRIAM,

Joch, come and lament with me thy brother's loss!

Mir. Come and adore with me the God of Jacob!

Joch. Miriam-the child is dead! Mir. He lives! he lives! Joch. Impossible-Oh, do not mock my grief! See'st thou that empty vessel? Mir.

From that vessel Th' Egyptian princess took him. Joch. Pharaoh's daughter? Then still he will be slain: a bloodier death Will terminate his woes. Mir. His life is safe; For know, she means to rear him as her own. Joch. [Falis on her knees in rapture. O magnify'd forever be thy might To God, the Lord, the glory be ascrib'd! Who mock'st all human forethought! who o'errulest

The hearts of all sinners to perform thy work,

Defeating their own purpose! who canst plant

Unlook'd-for mercy in a heathen's heart,

I've almost reach'd the place- with cautious And from the depth of evil bring forth good?

steps

[She riscs.

Mir. O blest event, beyond our warmest When he is furnish'd 'gainst the evil day, hopes! [a court, With God's whole armour,* girt with saJoch, What! shall my son be nurtur'd in cred truth, In princely grandeur bred? 'taught every art And ev'ry wond'rous science Egypt knows? Yet ah! I tremble Miriam; should he learn, With Egypt's polish'd arts her baneful faith! O worse exchange for death! yes, should he

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embrace

(As sure he will, if bred in Pharaoh's court) The gross idolatries which Egypt owns, Her graven images, her brutish gods, Then shall I wish he had not been preserv'd To shame his fathers and deny his faith. Mir. Then to dispel thy fears and crown thy joy, [princess Hear farther wonders-Know, the gen'rous To thine own care thy darling child commits.

Joch. Speak, while my joy will give me leave to listen! [me here, Mir. By her commission'd, thou behold'st To seek a matron of the Hebrew race To nurse him: thou, my mother, art that [rear him, I said I knew thee well; that thou wouldst E'en with a mother's fondness; she who bare him [more. (I told the princess) would not love him Joch. Fountain of Mercy! whose perva

matron.

ding eye

Can look within and read what passes there. Accept my thoughts for thanks! I have no

words.

My soul o'erfraught with gratitude, rejects The aid of Language-Lord! behold my

heart.

Mir. Yes, thou shalt pour into his infant mind

The purest precepts of the purest faith. Joch. O! I will fill his tender soul with virtue,

And warm his bosom with devotion's flame! Aid me celestial Spirit! with thy grace, And be my labours with thy influence crown'd! [Miriam,

Without it they were vain. Then, then, my

And as a breastplate wearing righteousness, Arm'd with the Spirit of God, the shield of faith,

And with the helmet of salvation crown'd, Inur'd to watching and dispos'd to prayer; Then may I send him to a dangerous court, And safely trust him in a perilous world, Too full of tempting snares and fond delu

sions!

Mir. May bounteous Heav'n thy pious cares reward!

Joch. O Amram ! O my husband! when thou com'st,

Wearied at night, to rest thee from the toils Impos'd by haughty Pharaoh, what a tale Have I to tell thee! Yes: thy darling son Was lost, and is restor'd; was dead, and lives!

Mir. How joyful shall we spend the livelong night

In praises to Jehovah ; who thus mocks
All human foresight, and converts the means
Of seeming ruin into great deliverance !
Joch. Had not my child been doom'd to
such strange perils

As a fond mother trembles to recal,
He had not been preserv'd.
Mir.

And mark still farther;
Had he been sav'd by any other hand,
He had been still expos'd to equal ruin.

Joch. Then let us join to bless the hand

of Heaven,

That this poor outcast of the house of Israel, Condemn'd to die by Pharaoh, kept in se

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DAVID AND GOLIATH;

A SACRED DRAMA.

O bienheureux mille fois,
L'Enfant que le Seigneur aime,

Qui de bonne heure entend sa voix,
Et que ce Dieu diagne instruire lui-meme!
Loin du monde eleve; de tous les dons des Cieur,
Il est orne des sa naissance;

Et du mechant l'abord contagieux
N'altere point son innocence.--Athalie.

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The scene lies in the camp in the valley of Elah, and the adjacent plain.

The subject is taken from the seventh chapter of the First Book of Samuel.

PART I.

SCENE-A shepherd's tent on a plain.

DAVID, under a spreading tree, plays on his harp and sings.

I.

GREAT Lord of all things! Pow'r divine!
Breathe on this erring heart of mine

Thy grace serene and pure;
Defend my frail, my erring youth,
And teach me this important truth,
The humble are secure!
II.

Teach me to bless my lowly lot,
Confin'd to this paternal cot,

Remote from regal state!
Content to court the cooling glade,
Inhale the breeze, enjoy the shade,
And love my humble fate.
III.

No anxious vigils here I keep,
No dreams of gold distract my sleep,
Nor lead my heart astray;
Ner blasting Envy's tainted gale
Pollutes the pleasures of the vale,
To vex my harmless day.
IV.
Yon tow'r which rears its head so high,
And bids defiance to the sky,

Invites the hostile winds:
Yon branching oak extending wide,
Provokes destruction by its pride,
And courts the fall it finds.
V.

Then let me shun th' ambitious deed,
And all the dang'rous paths which lead
To honours falsely won;
Lord! in thy sure protection blest,
Submissive will I ever rest,

And may thy will be done! [He lays down his harp and rises. David. Methinks this shepherds life were dull and tasteless

Without the charm of soothing song or harp:
With it, not undelightful is the haunt
Of wood, or lonely grove, or russet plain,
Made vocal by the Muse. With this lov'd
harp,

This daily solace of my cares, I sooth'd
The melancholy monarch, when he lay
Smit by the chill and spirit-quenching hand
Of black despair. God of my fathers, hear

me!

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To man; to pour my grateful soul before

thee;

To sing thy pow'r, thy wisdom, and thy love,

And ev'ry gracious attribute; to paint
The charms of heaven-born Virtue! So
shall I

(Though with long interval of worth) aspire
To imitate the work of saints above,
Of Cherub and of Seraphim. My heart,
My talents, all I am, and all I have,
Is thine, O Father! Gracious Lord, accept
The humble dedication! Offer'd gifts
Of slaughter'd bulls and goats sacrificial
Thou hast refus'd: but lo, I come, O Lord!
To do thy will; the living sacrifice
Of an obedient heart I lay before thee:
This humble off'ring more shall please thee,
Lord,

Than horned bullock's, ceremonial rites, New moons, and Sabbaths, passovers, and fasts!

Yet those I too will keep; but not in lieu
Of holiness substantial, inward worth;
As commutation cheap for pious deeds
And purity of life, but as the types
Of better things; as fair external signs
Of inward holiness and secret truth.

But see, my father, good old Jesse comes! To cheer the setting evening of whose life, Content, a simple shepherd here I dwell, Though Israel is in arms; and royal Saul, Encamp'd in yonder field, defies Philistia.

JESSE, DAVID.

Jesse. Blest be the gracious pow'r who gave my age

To boast a son like thee! Thou art the staff Which props my bending years, and makes me bear

The heavy burden of declining age
With tond complacence. How unlike thy
fate,

O venerable Eli! But two sons,
But only two to gild the dim remains
Of life's departing day, and bless thy age,
And both were curses to thee! Witness,
Heaven,

In all the cruel catalogue of pains
Humanity turns o'er, if there be one
So terrible to human tenderness
As an unnatural child!

David. O! my lov'd father! Long may'st thou live, in years and honours rich;

To taste and to communicate the joys,
The thousand fond endearing charities,
Of tenderness domestic; Nature's best

And loveliest gift, with which she well By one man's crime, by one man's lust of

atones

The niggard boon of fortune.
Jesse.
O! my son!
Of all the graces which adorn thy youth,
I, with a father's fondness, must commend
'Thy try'd humility. For though the seer
Pour'd on thy chosen head, the sacred oil
In sign of future greatness, in sure pledge
Of highest dignity, yet here thou dwell'st
Content with toil and careless of repose;
And (harder still for an ingenuous mind)
Content to be obscure; content to watch,
With careful eye, thine humble father's
flock!

O earthly emblem of celestial things!
So Israel's shepherd watches o'er his fold:
The weak ones in his fost'ring bosom bears:
And gently leads in his sustaining hand,
The feeble ones with young.

David. Know'st thou, my father, Aught from the field? for though so near the camp,

Though war's proud ensigns stream on yon-
der plain,

And all Philistia's swarming hosts encamp,
Oppos'd to royal Saul, beneath whose ban-

ners

My brothers lift the spear-I have not left
My fleecy charge, by thee committed to

me,

To learn the various fortunes of the war.
Jesse. And wisely hast thou done. Thrice
happy realm,

Who shall submit one day to his command
Who can so well obey! Obedience leads
To certain honours. Not the tow'ring wing
Of eagle-plum'd ambition mounts so surely
To fortune's highest summit, as obedience.
[A distant sound of trumpets.
But why that sudden ardour, O my son?
That trumpet's sound (though so remote its
voice,

We hardly catch the echo as it dies).
Has rous'd the mantling crimson in thy
cheek,

Kindled the martial spirit in thine eye;
And my young shepherd feels an hero's
fire!

David. Thou hast not told the posture of the war,

And much my beating bosom pants to hear.
Jesse. Uncertain is the fortune of the
field.

I tremble for thy brothers, thus expos'd
To constant peril; nor for them alone
Does the quick feeling agonize my heart.
I feel for all!-I mourn, that ling'ring War
Still hangs his banner o'er my native land,
Belov'd Jerusalem! O War! what art thou?
At once the proof and scourge of man's
fall'n state!

After the brightest conquest, what appears
Of all thy glories? for the vanquish'd,
chains!

For the proud victor, what? Alas! to reign

O'er desolated nations! a drear waste,

pow'r,
Unpeopled! Ravag'd fields assume the place
Of smiling harvests, and uncultur'd plains
Succeed the fertile vineyard; barren waste
Deforms the spot once rich with luscious fig
And the fat olive.-Devastation reigns.
Here, rifled temples are the cavern'd dens
Of savage beasts, or haunt of birds obscene:
There, pop'lous cities blacken in the sun,
And, in the gen'ral wreck, proud palaces
Lie undistinguish'd save by the dun smoke
Of recent conflagration. When the song
Of dear-bought joy, with many a triumph
swell'd,

Salutes the victor's ear, and soothes his
pride,

How is the grateful harmony profan'd
With the sad dissonance of virgins' cries,
Who mourn their brothers slain! of matrons
hoar,

Who clasp their wither'd hands, and fondly
ask,

With iteration shrill, their slaughter'd sons! How is the laurel's verdure stain'd with blood,

And soil'd with widows' tears!

David.

Thrice mournful truth!
Yet when our country's sacred rights are
menac'd;

Her firm foundations shaken to their base;
When all we love, and all that we revere,
Our hearths and altars, children, parents,
wives,

Our liberties and laws; the throne they
guard,
[my father!
Are scorn'd and trampl'd on-then, then,
'Tis then Religion's voice; then God him-
self

Commands us to defend his injur'd name,
And think the vict'ry cheaply bought with
life.
[love:

Twere then inglorious weakness, mean self-
To lie inactive, when the stirring voice
Of the shrill trumpet wakes the patriot
youth,

And, with heroic valour, bids them dare
The foul idolatrous bands, e'en to the death.
Jesse. God and thy country claim the life

they gave;

No other cause can sanctify resentment.
David. Sure virtuous friendship is a noble
cause !

O were the princely Jonathan in danger,
How would I die, well pleas'd, in his de-
fence!
[boy
When, 'twas long since, then but a stripling
I made short sojourn in his father's palace,
(At first to soothe his troubled mind with
song,

His armour-bearer next) I well remember
The gracious bounties of the gallant prince.
How would he sit, attentive to my strain,
While to my harp I sung the harmless joys
Which crown a shepherd's life! How would

he cry,
Bless'd youth! far happier in thy native
worth,

Far richer in the talent Heav'n has lent From splendid actions high renown will thee, [brow. spring. Than if a crown hung o'er thy anxious Such is the usual course of human things; The jealous monarch mark'd our growing For Wisdom Infinite permits, that thus friendship; [him, Effects to causes be proportionate, And as my favour grew with those about And natʼral ends by nat'ral means achiev'd. His royal bounty lessen'd, till at length, But in the future estimate which Heaven For Bethl'hem's safer shades I left the court. Will make of thing's terrestrial, know, my Nor would these alter'd features now be son, known,

Grown into manly strength; nor this chang'd form,

Enlarg'd with age, and clad in russet weed.
Jesse. I have employment for thee, my
lov'd son!

Will please thy active spirit. Go, my boy!
Haste to the field of war, to yonder camp,
Where in the vale of Elah mighty Saul
Commands the hosts of Israel. Greet thy
brothers;
[well,
Observe their deeds, note their demeanor
And mark if on their actions Wisdom waits.
Bear to them too (for well the waste of war
Will make it needful) such plain heathful
viands

As furnish out our frugal shepherd's meal.
And to the valiant captain of their host
Present such rural gifts at suit our fortune :
Heap'd on the board within my tent thou'lt
find them.

David. With joy I'll bear thy presents to
my brothers;

And to the valiant captain of their host
The rural gifts thy gratitude assigns him.
Delightful task!-for I shall view the camp!
What transport to behold the tented field,
The pointed spear, the blaze of shields and

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That no inferior blessing is reserv'd
For the mild passive virtues : meek content,
Heroic self-denial, nobler far
Than all th' achievements noisy Fame re-
ports,

When her shrill trump proclaims the proud

success

Which desolates the nations. But, on earth,
These are not always prosperous-mark the

cause:

Eternal Justice keeps them for the bliss
Of final recompence, for the dread day
Of genʼral retribution. O, my son !
The ostentatious virtues which still press
For notice and for praise; the brilliant deeds
Which live but in the eye of observation,
These have their mecd at once. But there's
a joy

To the fond votaries of Fame unknown,
To hear the still small voice of Conscience
speak

Its whisp'ring plaudit to the silent soul.
Heaven notes the sigh afflicted Goodness
heaves;

Hears the low plaint by human ear unheard,
And from the check of patient Sorrow wipes
The tear, by mortal eye unseen or scorn'd.

David. Ás Hermon's dews their grateful

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