To his undaunted might.

XIV.

Constant-in love to God THE TRUTH,

Age, manhood, infancy, and youth —

To Jonathan his friend

Constant, beyond the verge of death;

And Ziba, and Mephibosheth,

His endless fame attend.

XV.

Pleasant-and various as the year;

Man, soul, and angel, without peer,

Priest, champion, sage and boy;

In armour, or in ephod clad,

His pomp, his piety was glad;

Majestic was his joy.

XVI.

Wise-in recovery from his fall,

Whence rose his eminence o’er all,

Of all the most revil’d;

The light of Israel in his ways,

Wise are his precepts, prayer and praise,

And counsel to his child.

XVII.

His muse, bright angel of his verse,

Gives balm for all the thorns that pierce,

For all the pangs that rage;

Blest light, still gaining on the gloom,

The more than Michael of his bloom,

Th’ Abishag of his age.

XVIII.

He sung of God-the mighty source

Of all things-the stupendous force

On which all strength depends;

From whose right arm, beneath whose eyes,

All period, pow’r, and enterprize

Commences, reigns, and ends.

XIX.

Angels-their ministry and meed,

Which to and fro with blessings speed,

Or with their citterns wait;

Where Michael with his millions bows,

Where dwells the seraph and his spouse,

The cherub and her mate.

XX.

Of man-the semblance and effect

Of God and Love-the Saint elect

For infinite applause —

To rule the land, and briny broad,

To be laborious in his laud,

And heroes in his cause.

XXI.

The world-the clustring spheres he made,

The glorious light, the soothing shade,

Dale, champaign, grove, and hill;

The multitudinous abyss,

Where secrecy remains in bliss,

And wisdom hides her skill.

XXII.

Trees, plants, and flow’rs-of virtuous root;

Gem yielding blossom, yielding fruit,

Choice gums and precious balm;

Bless ye the nosegay in the vale,

And with the sweetners of the gale

Enrich the thankful psalm.

XXIII.

Of fowl-e’en ev’ry beak and wing

Which chear the winter, hail the spring,

That live in peace or prey;

They that make music, or that mock,

The quail, the brave domestic cock,

The raven, swan, and jay.

XXIV.

Of fishes-ev-ry size and shape,

Which nature frames of light escape,

Devouring man to shun:

The shells are in the wealthy deep,

The shoals upon the surface leap,

And love the glancing sun.

XXV.

Of beasts-the beaver plods his task;

While the sleek tygers roll and bask,

Nor yet the shades arouse:

Her cave the mining coney scoops;

Where o’er the mead the mountain stoops,

The kids exult and brouse.

XXVI.

Of gems-their virtue and their price,

Which hid in earth from man’s device,

Their darts of lustre sheathe;

The jasper of the master’s stamp,

The topaz blazing like a lamp

Among the mines beneath.

XXVII.

Blest was the tenderness he felt

When to his graceful harp he knelt,

And did for audience call;

When satan with his hand he quell’d,

And in serene suspence he held

The frantic throes of Saul.

XXVIII.

His furious foes no more malign’d

As he such melody divin’d,

And sense and soul detain’d;

Now strinking strong, now soothing soft,

He sent the godly sounds aloft,