AT "£! 3RARV 
 
Printed bj C. Whiittngham, Chiswick, 
 
SACRED DRAMAS. 
 
 CHIEFLY INTENDED 
 
 Jf or 3?otmg Arsons. 
 
 THE SUBJECTS TAKEN FROM THE BIBLE. 
 
 BY HANNAH MORE. 
 
 % Jtcto Coition. 
 
 WITH 
 
 A MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 
 
 jFrom x\)t C&totc'fc Pregg, 
 
 BY C. WHITTINGHAM. 
 
 SOLD BY R. JENNINGS, POULTRY, LONDON. 
 
 1818. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 Memoirs of Mrs. Hannah More 5 
 
 Dedication 13 
 
 Advertisement 15 
 
 Introduction 19 
 
 Moses 25 
 
 David and Goliath 47 
 
 Belsiiazzar 97 
 
 Daniel 139 
 
 Reflections of Ring Hezeki\h, in his 
 Sickness 177 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/sacreddramaschieOOmore 
 
MEMOIRS 
 
 OF 
 
 MRS. HANNAH MORE. 
 
 This lady, who l.-as so highly distinguished herself 
 by her literary productions, was born, we believe, 
 at Hanham, a village near Bristol ; in which latter 
 place she for several years kept a boarding-school 
 for young ladies. 
 
 Her first publication was a pastoral drama, called 
 " The Search after Happiness," which appeared 
 in 1773. It Mas written at the age of eighteen, 
 for some female friends, who performed the several 
 characters in private parties. Though the plot of 
 this little piece is perfectly inartificial, the poetry 
 which it contains does infinite credit to the power- 
 of such early jears, and it experienced a very fa- 
 vourable reception. Indeed, few pastorals, in this 
 or any other language, are better calculated to re- 
 fine the female taste, repress the luxuriance of ju- 
 venile imaginations, or charm the rising affection- 
 
M MLM0I11S OF 
 
 of minds glowing with sensibility and ardour. But 
 its chief distinctions over every similar drama are, 
 its purity of sentiment, simplicity of diction, ori- 
 ginality of design, and the inviolable affinity which 
 it establishes and preserves between truth and na- 
 ture, virtue aud happiness, habits of innocence, and 
 the practice of piety. 
 
 The concern that she took, and the interest which 
 she felt, in the dignity of her own sex, were after- 
 wards exemplified by a Series of " Essays on va- 
 rious Subjects, principally desi'gned for young 
 Ladie?." 
 
 In the year 1774, Mrs. More published " The 
 Inflexible Captive," a Tragedy, founded on the 
 story of Regulus : its literary merits are great, and 
 it was once acted on the Bath stage. 
 
 " Sir Eldred of the Bower," and " The Bleed- 
 ing Rock," two charming legendary tales, were 
 published together in 4to, 1776. The latter is in 
 the manner of Ovid ; and the pretty fiction at the 
 conclusion had its origin from a rock, near the au- 
 thor's residence in Somersetshire, whence a crimson 
 stream flows, occasioned by the red strata over 
 which the water makes its way from the moun- 
 tains. 
 
MRS. HANNAH MORE. Vli 
 
 Mrs. More has al^o written " An Ode to Dragon,*' 
 Mr. Garrick's house-dog ; u Percy," a Tragedy, 
 founded on the Gahrielle de Vergy of M. de Bel- 
 loy ; " The Fatal Falsehood," a Tragedy ; " Sacred 
 Dramas*," chiefly intended for young Persons — 
 the subjects taken from the Bible; " Sensibility," 
 a Poem ; " Florio," and « The Bas Bleu,*' two 
 Poems; " Slavery," a Poem;" and " Remarks on 
 the Speech of Iff. Dupont, made in the National 
 Convention of France, on the Subjects of Religion 
 and Public Education." In this work she exposed 
 the gross atheistical tendency of the speech of Iff. 
 Dupont, and roused the general abhorrence of all 
 rank- at the atrocity of a system which struck at 
 the vitals of every thing good and sacred among 
 men. The profits of the book were appropriated 
 toward the relief of the French emigrant clergy. 
 
 After this latter work, Mrs. More projected a 
 u Cheap Repository," for supplying; intelligence of 
 an opposite tendency, to such as could not afford it 
 on other terms. The fund by which she reared, 
 and for a long time maintained, this impregnable 
 fortress against the havock of irreligion and licen- 
 tiiiu-ness, originated in the munificence of the 
 liberal circle to which she had access by her per- 
 sonal merits and addre— . 
 
 • Mos*s in Uie Bnlnishts— David and Go'iatU— Belsbazzar 
 —arid Daniel. 
 
Mil MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Her " Thoughts on the Importance of the Man- 
 ners of the Great to General Society," and her 
 " Estimate of the Religion of the Fashionable 
 "World," were vers- popular with all orders in the 
 community. In short, such was the impression 
 which they made, that scarcely any other book was 
 for a long time read in private families, or men- 
 tioned in polite conversation ; nay, its arguments 
 were even detailed from the pulpits in the vicinity 
 of the court. 
 
 Mrs. More has since given to the world, " Prac- 
 tical Piety; or, the Influence of the Religion of 
 the Heart on the Conduct of the Life;" " Christian 
 Morals ;" " Hints towards forming the Character 
 of a Young Princess;" " Strictures on Female 
 Education;" " Ccelebs in Search of a "Wife;" and 
 "An Essay on the Character and Practical Writings 
 of St. Paul." 
 
 Her works, in general, are calculated to awaken 
 the world to its best interest, and excite it to praise- 
 worthy actions; and she uses for this laudable pur- 
 pose the gentle means of reason and persuasion. 
 She would lead her fellow-creatures into habits of 
 mutual forbearance and kind accommodation with 
 each other, not drive them into those of harshness 
 and aversion; she would fill their heads with know- 
 ledge, that their hearts may not be blinded by pa*- 
 
MRS. HANNAH MORE. JX 
 
 sion ; she would inspire them with principles of 
 integrity, and a sense of what is just and right, that 
 their duty may bean object of choice, not compul- 
 sion. We understand, that her publications are an 
 exact transcript of her own life, which is literally 
 spent in doing good. Some of her friends (says the 
 Editor of the " Biographia Dramatica," edit. 1812), 
 called her exquisite humanity her hobby-horse; and 
 to such of them as were wits, it furnished a new 
 species of raillery. It is in this humour, which is a 
 mixture of praise and hlame, that the late Lord Or- 
 ford, in a letter to herself, gives the following sketch 
 of her character: 
 
 " It is very provoking (says his Lordship), that 
 people must be always hanging or drowning them- 
 selves, or going mad, that you, forsooth, mistress, 
 may have the diversion of exercising your pity, and 
 good-nature, and charity, and intercession, and all 
 that bead-roll of virtues that make you so trouble- 
 some and amiahle, when you might he ten times 
 more agreeable, by writing things that would not 
 cost one above half-a-crown at a time. You are an 
 absolute walking hospital, and travel about into 
 lone and bye places, with your doors open to house 
 stray-casualties. ] wish, at least, that you would 
 have some children yourself, that you might not be 
 plaguing one for all the pretty brats that are starv- 
 ing and friendless. I suppose it was some sucl) 
 
X MEMOIRS OF MRS. HANNAH MORE. 
 
 goody, two or three thousand years ago, that sug- 
 gested the idea of an alma-mater suckling the three 
 hundred and sixty-five bantlings of the Countess of 
 Hainault. — Well, as your newly-adopted pension- 
 ers have two babes, I insist on your accepting two 
 guineas for them, instead of one, at present ; that 
 is, when you shall be present. If you cannot cir- 
 cumscribe your own charities, you shall not stint 
 mine, Madam, who can afford it much better, and 
 who must be dunned for alms, and do not scramble 
 over hedges and ditches in searching for opportu- 
 nities of flinging away my money on good works. 
 I employ mine better at auctions, and in buying 
 pictures and baubles, and hoarding curiosities, that, 
 in truth, I cannot keep long, but that will last for 
 ever in my catalogue, and make me immortal. 
 Alas ! w ill they cover a multitude of sins ? Adieu .' 
 I cannot jest after that sentence." 
 
SACRED DRAMAS, 
 
 All the Books of the Bible are either most admirable and 
 exalted Pieces of Poetry, or are the best Materials in the 
 world for it. Cou' >j. 
 
TO HER GRACE 
 
 THE DUCHESS OF BEAUFORT, 
 THESE SACRED DRAMAS 
 
 ARE, WITH THE MOST PERFECT RESPECT, 
 INSCRIBED : 
 AS, AMONG THE MANY AMIABLE 
 
 AND DISTINGUISHED QUALITIES 
 
 WHICH ADORN HER MIND, 
 
 AND ADD LUSTRE TO HER RANK, 
 
 HER 
 
 EXCELLENCE IN THE MATERNAL CHARACTER 
 
 GIVES A PECULIAR PROPRIETY 
 
 TO HER PROTECTION OF THIS LITTLE WORK ; 
 
 WRITTEN WITH AN HUMBLE WISH 
 
 TO PROMOTE THE LOVE OF PIETY AND VIRTUE 
 
 IN YOUNG PERSONS, 
 
 BY HER GRACE'S 
 
 MOST OBEDIENT, 
 
 MOST OBLIGED, 
 AND MOST HUMBLE SERVANT, 
 
 HANNAH iMORE. 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 I am as ready as the most rigid critic to 
 confess, that nothing can be more simple 
 and inartificial than the plans of the fol- 
 lowing Dramas. In the construction of 
 them I have seldom ventured to introduce 
 any persons* of my own creation: still less 
 did I imagine myself at liberty to invent 
 circumstances. I reflected with awe, that 
 the place whereon I stood was holy ground. 
 All the latitude I permitted myself was, to 
 make such persons as I selected act under 
 such circumstances as I found, and express 
 
 * Never, indeed, except in Damel. and that of 
 necessity; as the Bible furnishes no more than two 
 persons, Daniel and Darius; and these were not 
 sufficient to carry on the business of the piece. 
 
16 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 such sentiments as, in my humble judg- 
 ment, appeared not unnatural to their 
 characters and situations. — Some of the 
 speeches are so long as to retard the 
 action; for I rather aspired after moral 
 instruction than the purity of dramatic 
 composition. I am aware that it may be 
 brought as an objection, that I have now 
 and then made my Jewish characters speak 
 too much like Christians, as it may be 
 questioned whether 1 have not occasionally 
 ascribed to them a degree of light and 
 knowledge greater than they probably had 
 the means of possessing ; but I was more 
 anxious in consulting the advantage of my 
 youthful readers, by leading them on to 
 higher religious views, than in securing 
 to myself the reputation of critical exact- 
 ness. 
 
 It will be thought that I have chosen, 
 perhaps, the least important passage in the 
 eventful life of David, for the foundation 
 of the Drama which bears his name. Yet, 
 even in this his first exploit, the sacred 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 17 
 
 historian represents him as exhibiting no 
 mean lesson of modesty, humility, courage, 
 and piety. Many will think that the in- 
 troduction of Saul's daughter would have 
 added to the effect of the piece: and I 
 have no doubt but that it would have made 
 the intrigue more complicated and amusing 
 had this Drama been intended for the 
 stage. There, all that is tender, and all 
 that is terrible in the passions, find a proper 
 place. But I write for the young, in whom 
 it will be always time enough to have the 
 passions awakened: I write for a class of 
 readers, to whom it is not easy to accom- 
 modate one's subject*, so as to be at once 
 useful and interesting. 
 
 * It would not be easy, nor perhaps proper, to 
 introduce sacred tragedies on the English stage. 
 The pious would think it profane, while the profane 
 would think it dull. Yet the excellent Racixe, in 
 a profligate country, and a voluptuous court, ven- 
 tured to adapt the i-tory of slthalia to the French 
 theatre; and it remains to us a glorious monument 
 of its author's courageous piety, while it exhibits 
 the perfection of the dramatic art. 
 
 B 
 
18 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 The amiable poet* from whom I have 
 taken my motto, after showing the superio- 
 rity of the sacred over the profane histories, 
 some instances of which I have noticed in 
 my introduction, concludes with the fol- 
 lowing remark, which I may apply to myself 
 with far more propriety than it was used 
 by the author: — " I am far from assuming 
 to myself to have fulfilled the duty of this 
 weighty undertaking; and I shall be ambi- 
 tious of no other fruit from this weak and 
 imperfect attempt of mine, but the opening 
 of a way to the courage and industry of 
 some other persons, who may be better able 
 to perform it thoroughly and successfully." 
 
 * Cowley. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 o 
 
 'a for the sacred energy which struck 
 The harp of Jesse's son ! or for a spark 
 Of that celestial flame which touch'd the lips 
 Of bless'd Isaiah*: when the Seraphim 
 "With living fire descended, and his soul 
 From sin's pollution purg'd! or one faint ray* 
 If human things to heav'nly I may join, 
 Of that pure spirit which inflam'd the breast 
 Of Milton, God's own poet! when, retird 
 In fair enthusiastic vision rapt, 
 The nightly visitant deign'd bless his couch 
 With inspiration, such as never flow'd 
 From Acidale or Aganippe's fount! 
 Then, when the sacred fire within him burnt, 
 He spake as man or angel might have spoke, 
 When man was pure, and angels were his guesK 
 
 It will not be. — Nor prophets burning zeal, 
 Nor muse of fire, nor yet to sweep the strings 
 With sacred energy, to me belongs ; 
 Nor with Miltonic hand to touch the chords 
 That wake to ecstasy. From me, alas ! 
 The secret source of harmony is hid; 
 The magic powers which catch the ravish'd sor.l 
 
 * Isniah vi. 
 
20 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 In melody's sweet maze, and the clear stream.- 
 Which to pure Fancy's yet untasted springs 
 Knchanted lead. Of these 1 little know ! 
 Yet, all unknowing, dare thy aid invoke, 
 Spirit of Truth ! to bless these worthless lays : 
 \or impious is the hope; for thou hast said, 
 That none who ask. in faith should ask in vain. 
 
 You I invoke not now, ye fabled Nine! 
 I not invoke you, though you well were sought 
 In Greece and Latium, sought by deathless bards, 
 Whose syren song enchants; and shall enchant, 
 Through Time's wide-circling round, though false 
 
 their faith, 
 And less than human were the gods they sung. 
 Though false their faith, they taught the best they 
 
 knew ; 
 And (blush, O Christians!) liv'd above their faith. 
 They would have bless'd the beam, and hail'd the day 
 Which chas'd the moral darkness from their souls. 
 Oh! had their minds receiv'd the clearer ray 
 Of Revelation, they had learnd to scorn 
 Their rites impure, their less than human gods, 
 Th ir wild mythology's fantastic maze. 
 
 Pure Plato ! how had thy chaste spirit hail'd 
 A faith so fitted to thy moral sense ! 
 What hadst thou felt, to see the fair romance 
 Of high imagination, the bright dream 
 Of thy pure fancy, more than realiz'd I 
 Sublime enthusiast ! thou hadst blest a scheme 
 Fair, good, and perfect. How had thy rapt soul 
 Caught fire, and burnt with a diviner flame! 
 For e'en thy fair idea ne'er conceiv'd 
 Such plenitude of bliss, such boundless love, 
 
INTRODUCTION. 21 
 
 As Deity made visible to sense. 
 Unhappy Brutus ! philosophic mind ! 
 Great 'midst the errors of the Stoic school ! 
 How had thy kindling spirit joy "d to find 
 That thy lov'd virtue was no empty name: 
 Nor hadst thou met the vision at Philippi; 
 Nor hadst thou sheath'd thy bloody dagger's point 
 Or in the breast of Caesar or thy own. 
 
 The Pagan page how far more wise than ours ! 
 They with the gods they worshipp"d grac'd their 
 
 song; 
 Our song we grace with gods we disbelieve ; 
 Retain the manners, but reject the creed. 
 Shall fiction only raise poetic flame, 
 And shall no altars blaze, O Trlih, to thee? 
 Shall falsehood only please, and fable charm? 
 And shall eternal Truth neglected lie, 
 Because immortal, slighted, or profan'd ? 
 Truth has our rev'rence only, not our love ; 
 Our praise, but not our heart : a deity, 
 Confess'd, but shunn'd ; acknowledge, not ador'd ; 
 Alarm'd we dread her penetrating beams; 
 She comes too near us, and too brightly shines. 
 
 "Why shun to make our duty our delight ? 
 Let pleasure be the motive, disallow 
 All high incentives drawn from God's command : 
 Where shall we trace, through all the page profane, 
 A livelier pleasure and a purer source 
 Of innocent delight, than the fair book 
 Of holy Truth presents? for ardent youth, 
 The sprightly narrative; for years mature, 
 The moral documeut, in sober robe 
 Of grave philosophy array "d : which all 
 
22 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Had heard with admiration, had embrac'd 
 
 With rapture, had the shades of Academe, 
 
 Or the learn'd Porch produc'd it: — Tomes had then 
 
 Been multiplied on Tomes, to draw the veil 
 
 Of graceful allegory, to unfold 
 
 Some hidden source of beauty, now not felt ! 
 
 Do not the powers of soul-enchanting song, 
 Strong imag'ry, bold figure, every charm 
 Of eastern flight sublime, apt metaphor, 
 And all the graces in thy lovely train, 
 Divine Simplicity i assemble all 
 In Sion's songs, and bold Isaiah's strain ? 
 
 Why should the classic eye delight to trace 
 The taie corrupted from its prime pure source, 
 How Pyrrha and the fam'd Thessalian king 
 Restor'd the ruin'd race of lost mankind ; 
 Yet turn, incurious, from the patriarch sav'd, 
 The rescu'd remnant of a delug'd world ? 
 "Why are wc taught delighted to recount 
 Alcides* labours, yet neglect to note 
 Heroic Sampson 'midst a life of toil 
 Herculean? Pain and peril marking both, 
 A life eventful and disastrous death. 
 Can all the tales which Grecian story yields ; 
 Can all the names the Roman page records 
 Of wondrous friendship and surpassing love; 
 Can gallant Theseus, and his brave compeer ; 
 Orestes, and the partner of his toils; 
 Achates, and his friend; Euryalus 
 And blooming Nisus, pleasant in their lives, 
 And undivided by the stroke of death ; 
 Can each, can all, a lovelier picture yield 
 Of virtuous friendship: can they all present 
 
INTRODUCTION. 23 
 
 A tenderness more touching than the love 
 Of Jonathan and David: — Speak, ye young! 
 Who, undebauch'd as yet with Fashion's lore, 
 And unsophisticate, unbiassed judge, 
 Say, is your quick attention more arous'd 
 By the red plagues which wasted smitten Thehes, 
 Than Heaven's avenging hand on Pharaoh's host ? 
 Or do the vagrant Trojans, driven by fate 
 On adverse shores successive, yield a theme 
 More grateful to the eager appetite 
 Of young Impatience, than the wand'ring tribes 
 The Hebrew leader through the desert led ? 
 The beauteous Maid * (though tender is the tale), 
 Whose guiltless blood on Aulis' altar stream'd, 
 Smites not the bosom with a softer pang 
 Than her in fate how sadly similar, 
 The Gileaditish virgin — victims both 
 
 Of vows unsanctified. 
 
 Such are the lovely themes which court the Bard, 
 Scarce yet essay'd in verse — for verse how meet ! 
 While heaven-descended song, forgetting oft 
 Her sacred dignity and high descent, 
 Debases her fair origin; oft spreads 
 Corruption's deadly bane, pollutes the heart 
 Of innocence, and with unhallow'd hand 
 Presents the poison'd chalice to the brim 
 Fill'd with delicious ruin, miuist'ring 
 The unwholesome rapture to the fever'd taste, 
 While its fell venom, with malignant pow'r, 
 Strikes at the root of virtue, with'ring all 
 Her vital energy. Oh ! for some balm 
 
 * Iphigenuu 
 
24 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Of sov'reign power, to raise the drooping Muse 
 
 To all the health of virtue ! to infuse 
 
 A gen'rous warmth, to rouse an holy zeal 
 
 And give her high conceptions of herself, 
 
 Her dignity, her worth, her aim, her end ! 
 
 For me, Eternal Spirit, let thy word 
 My path illume ! O thou compassionate God ! 
 Thou know'st our frame, thou know'st we are but 
 
 dust; 
 From dust a Seraph's zeal thou wilt not seek, 
 Nor wilt thou ask an Angel's purity. 
 But hear, and hearing pardon ; as I strive, 
 Though with a feeble voice and flagging wing, 
 A glowing heart, but pow'rless hand to point 
 The faith of favour'd man to Heav'n ; to sing 
 The ways inscrutable of Heav'n to man ; 
 May I, by thy celestial guidance led, 
 Fix deep in my own heart the truths I teach ! 
 Jn my own life transcribe whate'er of good 
 To others I propose ! and by thy rule 
 Correct the irregular*, reform the wrong, 
 Exalt the low, and brighten the obscure ! 
 Still may I note, how all the agreeing parts 
 Of this consummate system join to frame 
 One fair, one finish'd, one harmonious whole ! 
 Trace the close links which form the perfect chain 
 In beautiful connexion ; mark the scale 
 Whose nice gradations, with progression true, 
 For ever rising, end in deity I 
 
 * What in me is dark, 
 
 Illumine! what is low, raise and support! 
 
 Paradise La ' 
 
MOSES IN THE BULRUSHES. 
 
 a <SacreD -Drama, 
 
 Let ine assert eternal Providence, 
 And justify the wavs of God to Man. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. 
 
 HEBREW WOMEN. 
 
 Jochebed, Mother of Moses. 
 Miriam, his Sister. 
 
 EGYPTIANS. 
 
 The Princess, King Pharaoh's Daughter. 
 Melita ; and other Attendants. 
 
 SCENE— On the Banks of the Nile. 
 
 The Subject is taken from the Second Chapter of 
 the Book of Exodus. 
 
MOSES IN THE BULRUSHES. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 Jochebeo, Miriam. 
 
 JOCflEBED. 
 
 Why was my pray'r accepted ? why did Heav'n 
 
 In anger hear me, when I ask'd a son ? 
 
 Ye dames of Egypt ! ye triumphant mothers ! 
 
 You no imperial tyrant marks for ruin ; 
 
 You are not doom'd to see the babes you bore, 
 
 The babes you fondly nurture, bleed before you ! 
 
 You taste the transports of a mother's love, 
 
 Without a mother's anguish! wretched Israel ! 
 
 Can I forbear to mourn a different lot 
 
 Of thy sad daughters ! — Why did God's own hand' 
 
 Rescue his chosen race by Joseph's care? 
 
 Joseph ! the elected instrument of Heav'n, 
 
 Decreed to save illustrious Abraham's sons, 
 
 What time the famine rag'd in Canaan's land. 
 
 Israel, who then was spar'd, must perish now ! 
 
 Thou great mysterious Power ! who hast involv d 
 Thy wise decrees in darkness, to perplex 
 The pride of human wisdom, to confound 
 The daring scrutiny, and prove the faith 
 
28 MOSES IN THE BULRUSHES. 
 
 Of thy presuming creatures ! hear uie now ! 
 O vindicate thy honour; clear this doubt; 
 Teach me to trace this maze of Providence: 
 Why save the fathers, if the sons must perish ? 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 Ah me, my mother! whence these floods of grief? 
 
 JOCHEBED. 
 
 My son ! my son ! I cannot speak the rest, 
 Ye who have sons can only know my fondness ! 
 Ye who have lost them, or who fear to lose, 
 Can only know my pangs ! none else can guess them 
 A mothers sorrows cannot be conceiv'd 
 But by a mother — Would I were not one ! 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 With earnest pray'rs thou didst request this son, 
 And Heaven has granted him. 
 
 JOCHEBED. 
 
 O sad estate 
 Of human wretchedness ; so weak is man, 
 So ignorant and blind, that did not God 
 Sometimes withhold in mercy what we ask, 
 We should be ruin'd at our own request. 
 
 Too well thou know'st, my child, the stern decree 
 Of Egypt's cruel king, hard-hearted Pharaoh; 
 " That every male, of Hebrew mother born, 
 Must die." Oh ! do I live to tell it thee? 
 Must die a bloody death ! My child, my son, 
 My youngest born, my darling must be slain ! 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 The helpless innocent ! and must he die ? 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 29 
 
 JOCHEBED. 
 
 No : if a mother's tears, a mother's prayers, 
 A mother's fond precautions can prevail, 
 He shall not die. I have a thought, my Miriam, 
 And sure the God of mercies who inspir'd, 
 Will bless the secnet purpose of my soul, 
 To save his precious life. 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 Hop'st thou that Pharaoh — 
 
 JOCHEBED. 
 
 I have no hope in Pharaoh, much in God; 
 Much in the rock of ages. 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 Think, O think, 
 What perils thou already hast incurr'd, 
 And shun the greater which may yet remain. 
 Three months, three dangerous months, thou hast 
 
 preserv'd 
 Thy infant's life, and in thy house conceal'd him ! 
 Should Pharaoh know! 
 
 JOCHEBED. 
 
 Oh ! let the tyrant know, 
 And feel what he inflicts! Yes, hear me, Heav'n! 
 Send thy right aiming thunderbolts — But hush, 
 My impious murmurs ! Is it not thy will; 
 Thou, infinite in mercy? Thou permit'st 
 This seeming evil for some latent good. 
 Yes, I w ill laud thy grace, and bless thy goodness 
 For what I have, and not arraign thy wisdom 
 For what I fear to lose. Oh, I will bless thee 
 
30 MOSES IN THE BULRUSHES. 
 
 That Aaron will be spai-'d ! that my first born 
 Lives safe and undisturb'd ! that he was giv'n me 
 Before this impious persecution rag'd ! 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 And yet who knows, but the fell tyrant's rage 
 May reach his precious life? I 
 
 JOCHEBED. 
 
 I fear for him, 
 For thee, for all. A doating parent lives 
 In many lives; through many a nerve she feels; 
 From child to child the quick affections spread, 
 For ever wand'ring, yet for ever fix'd. 
 Nor does division weaken, nor the force 
 Of constant operation e'er exhaust 
 Parental love. All other passions change 
 With changing circumstances; rise or fall, 
 Dependant on their object; claim returns; 
 Live on reciprocation, and expire 
 Unfed by hope. A mother's fondness reigns 
 Without a rival, and without an end. 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 But say what Heav'n inspires to save thy son? 
 
 JOCHEBED. 
 
 Since the dear fatal morn which gave him birth, 
 I have resolv'd in my distracted mind 
 Each means to save his life : and many a thought 
 Which fondness prompted, prudence has oppos'd 
 As perilous and rash. With these poor hands 
 I've fram'd a little ark of slender reeds; 
 With pitch and slime I have secur'd the sides. 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 31 
 
 In this frail cradle I intend to lay 
 
 My little helpless infant, and expose him 
 
 Upon the banks of Nile. 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 Tis full of danger. 
 
 JOCHEBED. 
 
 Tis danger to expose, and death to keep him. 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 Yet, oh ! reflect. Should the fierce crocodile, 
 The native and the tyrant of the Nile, 
 Seize the defenceless infant t 
 
 JOCHEBED. 
 
 Oh, forbear! 
 Spare my fond heart. Yet not the crocodile, 
 Nor all the deadly monsters of the deep, 
 To me are half so terrible as Pharaoh, 
 That heathen king, that royal murderer! 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 Should he escape, which yet I dare not hope, 
 Each sea-born monster, yet the wind and waves 
 He cannot 'scape. 
 
 JOCHEBED. 
 
 Know, God is every where; 
 Not to one narrow, partial spot confin'd ; 
 No, not to chosen I-rael : he extends 
 Through all the vast infinitude of space; 
 At his command the furious tempests rise — 
 The blasting of the breath of his displeasure. 
 He tells the world of waters when to roar; 
 
32 MOSES IN THE BULRUSHES. 
 
 And, at his bidding, winds and seas are calm: 
 In him, not in an arm of flesh, I trust; 
 In him, whose promise never yet has fail'd, 
 I place my confidence. 
 
 What must I do? 
 Command thy daughter; for thy words have wak'd 
 An holy boldness in my youthful breast. 
 
 JOCHEBED. 
 
 Go then, my Miriam, go, and take the infant. 
 Buried in harmless slumbers there he lies: 
 Let me not see him — spare my heart that pang. 
 Yet sure one little look may be indulg'd, 
 And I may feast my fondness with his smiles, 
 And snatch one last, last kiss — No more my heart; 
 That rapture would he fatal — I should keep him. 
 I could not doom to death the babe I clasp'd : 
 Did ever mother kill her sleeping boy? 
 I dare not hazard it — The task be thine. 
 Oh ! do not wake my child ; remove him softly; 
 And gently lay him on the river's brink. 
 
 Did those magicians, whom the sons of Egypt 
 Consult and think all-potent, join their skill ; 
 And was it great as Egypt's sons believe ; 
 Yet all their secret wizard arts combin'd, 
 To save this little ark of bulrushes, 
 Thus fearfully exposed, could not effect if : 
 Their spells, their incantations, and dire charing 
 Could not preserve it. 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 33 
 
 JOCHEBED. 
 
 Know this ark is charm'd 
 With incantations Pharaoh ne'er employ 'd ; 
 With spells which impious Egypt never knew: 
 With invocations to the living God, 
 I twisted every slender reed together, 
 And with a pray'r did every ozier weave. 
 
 I go. 
 
 JOCHEBED. 
 
 Yet ere thou go'st, observe me well ! 
 When thou hast laid him in his wat'ry bed, 
 Oh leave him not ; but at a distance wait, 
 And mark what Heaven's high will determines for 
 
 him. 
 Lay him among the flags on yonder beach, 
 Just where the royal gardens meet the Nile. 
 I dare not follow him, Suspicion's eye 
 Would note my wild demeanour! Miriam, yes, 
 The mother's fondness would betray the child. 
 Farewell ! God of my fathers, oh protect him • 
 
34 MOSES IN THE BULRUSHES. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 Enter Miriam, after having deposited the Child. 
 
 Yes, I have laid him in his wat'ry bed, 
 
 His wat'ry grave, 1 fear! — I tremble still; 
 
 It was a cruel task — still I must weep ! 
 
 But ah ! my mother! who shall sooth thy griefs ? 
 
 The flags and sea-weeds will awhile sustain 
 
 Their precious load ; but it must sink ere long ! 
 
 Sweet babe, farewell! Yet think not I will leave 
 
 thee; 
 No, I will watch thee till the greedy waves 
 Devour thy little bark ; I'll sit me down, 
 And sing to thee, sweet babe; thou canst not hear, 
 But 'twill amuse me, while I watch thy fate. 
 
 [She sits down on a Bank and sings. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Thou, who canst make the feeble strong, 
 
 O God of Israel, hear my song; 
 Not mine such notes as Egypt's daughters raise; 
 'Tis thee, O God of Hosts, I strive to praise. 
 
 Ye winds, the servants of the Lord, 
 
 Ye waves, obedient to his word, 
 Oh spare the babe committed to your trust ; 
 And Israel shall confess the Lord is just ! 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 35 
 
 Though doom'd to find an early grave, 
 
 This infant, Lord, thy pow'r can save: 
 And he whose deaths decreed by Pharaoh's hand, 
 May rise a prophet to redeem the land. 
 
 [She rises and looks out. 
 
 What female form bends hitherward her steps, 
 Of royal port she seems ; perhaps some friend, 
 Rais'd by the guardian care of bounteous Heav'n, 
 To prop the falling house of Levi. — Soft ! 
 I'll listen unperceiv'd ; these trees will hide me. 
 
 [She stands behind. 
 
 Enter the Princess of Egypt, attended by a 
 Train of Ladies. 
 
 PRINCESS. 
 
 No further, virgins; here 1 mean to rest, 
 To taste the pleasant coolness of the breeze; 
 Perhaps to bathe in this translucent stream. 
 Did not our holy law * enjoin the ablution 
 Frequent and regular, it still were needful 
 To mitigate the fervours of our clime. 
 Melita, stay — the rest at distance wait. 
 
 [They all go oat except one. 
 
 The Princess looks out. 
 
 Sure, or I much mistake, or I perceive 
 Upon the sedgy margin of the Nile 
 A chest; entangled in the reeds it seems: 
 Discern'st thou aught ? 
 
 * The ancient Egyptians used to wash their bodies four 
 times every tweuty-four hours. 
 
36 MOSES IN THE BULRUSHES. 
 
 MELITA. 
 
 Something, but what 1 know not. 
 
 Go and examine what this sight may mean. 
 
 lExit Maid. 
 
 Miriam behind. 
 O blest, beyond my hopes! he is discover'd ; 
 My brother will be sav'd ! who is this stranger? 
 Ahi 'tis the Princess, cruel Pharaoh's daughter. 
 If she resemble her inhuman Sire, 
 She must be cruel too ; yet fame reports her 
 Most merciful and mild. — Great Lord of all, 
 By whose good spirit bounteous thoughts are given 
 And deeds ef love perform'd — be gracious now, 
 And touch her soul with mercy ! 
 
 Re-enter Meltta. 
 
 PROCESS. 
 
 Well, Melita ! 
 Hast thou discover'd what the vessel is? 
 
 MELITA. 
 
 Oh, Princess, I have seen the strangest sight .' 
 AY i thin the vessel lies a sleeping babe, 
 A fairer infant have I never seen ! 
 
 PRIX CESS. 
 
 Who knows but some unhappy Hebrew woman 
 Has thus expos'd her infant, to evade 
 The stern decree of my too cruel Sire. 
 Unhappy mothers ! oft my heart has bled 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 37 
 
 In secret anguish o'er your slaughter'd sons ; 
 Powerless to save, yet hating to destroy. 
 
 MELITA. 
 
 Should this be so, my Princess knows the danger. 
 
 PRINCESS. 
 
 No danger should deter from acts of mercy. 
 
 Miriam behind. 
 A thousand blessings on her princely head! 
 
 PRINCESS. 
 
 Too much the sons of Jacob have endur'd 
 From royal Pharaoh's unrelenting hate; 
 Too much our house has crush'd their alien race. 
 Is't not enough that cruel task-masters 
 Grind them by hard oppression? not enough 
 That iron bondage bows their spirits down? 
 Is't not enough my Sire his greatness owes, 
 His palaces, his fanes magnificent, 
 Those structures which the world with wonder 
 
 views, 
 To much-insulted Israel's patient race? 
 To them his growing cities owe their splendour ; 
 Their toils fair Rameses and Pythom built ; 
 And shall we fill the measure of our crimes, 
 And crow n our guilt with murder ? and shall I 
 Sanction the sin I hate ? forbid it, Mercy ! 
 
 I know thy royal father fears the strength 
 Of this still growing race, who flourish more 
 The more they are oppress'd: he dreads their num- 
 bers. 
 
38 MOSES IN THE BULRUSHES. 
 
 Apis forbid ! Pharaoh afraid of Israel I 
 Yet should this outcast race, this hapless people, 
 E'er grow to such a formidable greatness 
 (Which all the gods avert whom Egypt worships), 
 This infant's life can never serve their cause, 
 Nor can his single death prevent their greatness. 
 
 Trust not to that vain hope. By weakest means 
 And most unlikely instruments, full oft 
 Are great events produc'd. This rescu'd child 
 Perhaps may live to serve his upstart race 
 More than an host. 
 
 PRINCESS. 
 
 How ill does it beseem 
 Thy tender years and gentle womanhood, 
 To steel thy breast to pity's sacred touch ! 
 So weak, so unprotected is our sex, 
 So constantly expos'd, so very helpless, 
 That did not Heav'n itself enjoin compassion, 
 Yet human policy should make us kind, 
 Lest in the rapid turn of fortune's wheel, 
 We live to need the pity Ave refuse. 
 Yes, I will save him — Mercy, thou hast conquer'd ! 
 Lead on — and from the rushes we'll remove 
 The feeble ark which cradles this poor babe. 
 
 {The Princess and her Maid go ou*. 
 
 MrRlAM comes forward. 
 How pour were words to speak my boundless joy. 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 39 
 
 The Princess will protect him! bless her, Heav'n! 
 [.S/<e looks out after the Princess, and describes 
 her action. 
 With what impatient steps she seeks the shore ! 
 Now she approaches where the ark is laid ! 
 With what compassion, with what angel-sweetness, 
 She bends to look upon the infant's face ! 
 She takes his little hand in hers — he wakes — 
 She smiles upon him — hark, alas ! he cries ; 
 Weep on, sweet babe! weep on, till thou hast touch'd 
 Each chord of pity, waken'd every sense 
 Of melting sympathy, and stol'n her soul ! 
 She takes him in her arms — O lovely Princess! 
 How goodness heightens beauty ! now she clasps him 
 With fondness to her heart, she gives him now 
 With tender caution to her damsel's arms: 
 She points her to the palace, and again 
 This way the Princess bends her gracious steps ; 
 The virgin train retire and bear the child. 
 
 Re-enter the Princess. 
 
 Did ever innocence and infant beauty 
 Plead with such dumb but powerful eloquence ? 
 If I, a stranger, feel these soft emotions, 
 What must the mother who expos'd him feel ? 
 Go, fetch a woman of the Hebrew race, 
 That she may nurse the babe; — and, by her gar'), 
 Lo, such a one is here ! 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 Princess, all hail ! 
 
40 MOSES IN THE BULRUSHES. 
 
 Forgive the hold intrusion of thy servant, 
 
 Who stands a charm'd spectator of thy goodness. 
 
 PRINCESS. 
 
 I have redeem'd an infant from the waves, 
 Whom I intend to nurture as mine own. 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 My transports will betray me! [Aside'] Gen'rous 
 Princess ! 
 
 PRINCESS. 
 
 Know'st thou a matron of the Hebrew race 
 To whom I may confide him ? 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 Well I know 
 A prudent matron of the house of Levi ; 
 Her name is Jochebed, the wife of Amram ; 
 Of gentle manners, fam'd throughout her trihe 
 For soft humanity ; full well I know 
 That she will rear him with a mother's love. 
 [Aside'] Oh ! truly spoke! a mother's love indeed ! 
 To her despairing arms I mean to give 
 This precious trust ! the nurse shall be the mother ! 
 
 PRINCESS. 
 
 With speed conduct this matron to the palace. 
 Yes, I will raise him up to princely greatness, 
 And he shall be my son ! I'll have him train'd 
 By choicest sages, in the deepest lore 
 Of Egypt's sapient sons ; his name be Moses, 
 For I have drawn him from the perilous flood. 
 
 [They go out. She kneels. 
 Thou Great Unseen ! who causest gentle deeds, 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 41 
 
 And smil'st on what thou causest : thus I bless thee, 
 
 That thou didst deign consult the tender make 
 
 Of yielding human hearts, when thou ordain'st 
 
 Humanity a virtue ! didst not make it 
 
 A rigorous exercise to counteract 
 
 Some strong desire within ; to war and fight 
 
 Against the powers of Nature; but didst bend 
 
 The natural bias of the soul to mercy: 
 
 Then mad'st that mercy duty ! Gracious Pow'r! 
 
 Mad'st the keen rapture exquisite as right ; 
 
 Beyond the joys of sense; as pleasure sweet, 
 
 As reason vigorous, and as instinct strong! 
 
 Py/fl T III. 
 
 Enter Jochebed. 
 
 I'te almost reach'd the place — with cautious steps 
 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 
 Have broke thy short repose; the chilling waves, 
 Kre this, have drench'd thy little shiv'ring limbs. 
 What must my babe have suffer'd — No one sees me ! 
 Rut 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. 
 
 D 
 
40 MOSES IN THE BULRUSHES. 
 
 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 feds every real ill, 
 And shapes imagin'd miseries into being. 
 
 [S/«e looks toward* the River. 
 Ah me! where is he? soul-distracting sight! 
 He is not there — he's lost, he's gone, he's drown'd ! 
 Toss'd by each beating surge my infant floats. 
 Cold, cold, and wat'ry is thy grave, my child ! 
 Oh no — I see the ark — Transporting sight! 
 
 [iS7*e 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 dee]) ! 
 But vain your mercy ; some insatiate beast, 
 Cruel as Pharaoh, took the life you spar'd — 
 And I shall uever, never see my boy! 
 
 Enter Miriam. 
 
 JOCHEBED. 
 
 Come and lament with me thy brother's loss! 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 Come and adore with me the God of Jacob ! 
 
 JOCHEBED. 
 
 Miriam ! — the child is dead ! 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 He lives ! he lives ! 
 
 JOCHEBEDj. 
 
 Impossible — Oh, do not mock my grief! 
 See'st thou that empty vessel? 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 43 
 
 MIR r AM. 
 
 From that vessel 
 The Egyptian Princess took him. 
 
 JOCHEBED. 
 
 Pharaoh's daughter? 
 Then still he will be slain : a bloodier death 
 "Will terminate his woes. 
 
 MTRMM. 
 
 His life is safe ; 
 For know, she means to rear him as her own. 
 
 JOCHEBED. 
 
 [Falls on her Knees in rapture. 
 To God, the Lord, the glory be ascrio'd ! 
 Oh, magnified for ever be thy might 
 "Who mock'st all human forethought! who o'errul'st 
 The heart- of sinners to perform thy work, 
 Defeating their own purpose ! who canst plant 
 Unlook'd-for mercy in a heathen's heart, 
 And from the depth of evil bring forth good! 
 
 [She rises. 
 
 MIRTAM. 
 
 O blest event, beyond our warmest hopes ! 
 
 JOCHEBED. 
 
 What ! shall my son be nurtur'd in a court, 
 In princely grandeur bred? taught every art 
 \nd ev'ry wondrous science Egypt knows? 
 Yet ah ! I tremble, Miriam ; should he learn 
 With Egypt's poli>h'd arts her baneful faith! 
 Oh, worse exchange for death ! yes, should he learn, 
 
44 MOSES IN THE BULRUSHES. 
 
 In yon proud palace to disown his hand 
 
 Who thus has sav'd him : should he e'er 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. 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 Then, to dispel thy fears and crown thy joy, 
 Hear further wonders — Know, thegen'rous Princess 
 To thine own care thy darling child commits. 
 
 JOCHEBED. 
 
 Speak, while my joy will give me leave to listen ! 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 By her commission'd, thou behold'st me here, 
 To seek a matron of the Hebrew race 
 To nurse him : thou, my mother, art that matron. 
 I said I knew thee well ; that thou wouldst rear him 
 E'en with a mother's fondness ; she who bare him 
 (I told the Princess) would not love him more. 
 
 JOCHEBED. 
 
 Fountain of Mercy! whose pervading 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. 
 
 Yes, thou shalt pour info his infant mind 
 The purest precepts of the purest faith. 
 
A SACKED DRAMA. Ah 
 
 JOCHEBED. 
 
 Oh ! 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 labour? with thy influence crown'd ! 
 "Without it they were vain. Then, then, my Miriam, 
 When he is furnish'd, 'gainst the evil day, 
 With God's whole armour*, girt with sacred truth, 
 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 pray'r; 
 Then may I send him to a dangerous court, 
 And safely trust him in a perilous world, 
 Too full of tempting snares and fond delusions! 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 May bounteous Heav'n thy pious cares reward! 
 
 JOCHEBED. 
 
 O Amram! oh, my husband! when thou cornet. 
 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 ! 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 How joyful shall we spend the live-long night 
 In praises to Jehovah ; who thus mocks 
 .All human foresight, and converts the means 
 Of seeming ruin into great deliverance. 
 
 » 2 Tbess. v. Ephes. vi. 
 
46 MOSES IN THE BULRUSHES. 
 
 JOCTIEBED. 
 
 Had not my child been doom'd to such strarg 
 perils 
 As a fond mother trembles ,to recal, 
 He had not been preserv'd. 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 And mark still further; 
 Had he been sav'd by any other hand, 
 He had been still expos'd to equal ruin. 
 
 JOCHEBED. 
 
 Then let us join to bless the hand of Heav'n, 
 That this poor outcast of the house of Israel, 
 Condemn'd to die by Pharaoh, kept in secret 
 By my advent'rous fondness ; then expos'd 
 E'en by that very fondness which conceal'd him, 
 Is now, to fill the wondrous rpund of mercy, 
 Preserv'd from perishing by Pharaoh's daughter, 
 Sav'd by the very hand which sought to crush him ! 
 
 Wise and unsearchable are all thy ways, 
 Thou God of Mercies'. — Lead me to my child. 
 
DAVID AND GOLIATH. 
 
 a £>acrefc Drama. 
 
 O bienheureux mille fob, 
 
 L' Enfant que le Seigneur aime, 
 
 Qui de bonne heure entend sa voix, 
 
 Et que ce Dieu daigne instruire lui-meme! 
 
 Loin du mond eleve; de tous les dons des Cieux, 
 
 II est orne des sa naissance ; 
 
 Et du mectaant l'abord contagieux 
 
 N'altere, point son innocence. 
 
 ATHALIE. 
 
PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. 
 
 Saul, King of Israel. 
 
 Abner, his General. 
 
 Jesse. 
 
 Eliab, 
 
 Abinadab, *> Sons of Jesse. 
 
 David, 
 
 Goliath, the Philistine Giant. 
 
 Philistines, Israelites, Sfc. fyc. 
 
 Chorus of Hebrew Women. 
 
 ■} 
 
 The Scene lies in the Camp in the Valley -of Elah, 
 and the adjacent Plain. 
 
 The Subject is taken from the Seventeenth Chapter 
 of the First Book of Samuel. 
 
DAVID AND GOLIATH. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 SCENE— A Shepherd's Tent on a Pluin. 
 
 David, under a spreading Tree, plays on his Harp 
 and sings. 
 
 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 ! 
 
 Teach me to bless my lowly lot, 
 Contin'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. 
 
 No anxious vigils here I keep, 
 
 No dreams of gold distract my sleep, 
 
 Nor lead my heart astray ; 
 Nor blasting Envy's tainted gale 
 Pollutes the pleasures of the vale, 
 
 To vex my harmless day. 
 
50 DAVID AMD GOLIATH. 
 
 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. 
 
 Then let me shun the ambitious deed, 
 And all the dang'rous paths which lead 
 
 To honours falsely won: 
 Lord ! in thy sure protection blest, 
 Submissive will 1 ever rest, 
 
 And may thy will be done! 
 
 [He lays down his Harp and rises. 
 
 Methinks this shepherd's life were dull and taste- 
 less, 
 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, 
 Here I devote my harp, my verse, myself, 
 To thy blest service ! gladly to proclaim 
 Glory to God on high, on earth good-will 
 To man ; to pour my grateful soul before thee ; 
 To sing thy povv'r, thy wisdom, and thy love, 
 And every gracious attribute : to paint 
 The charms of heav'n-born virtue ! So shall I 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. CI 
 
 (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 slaughtered bulls and goats sacrifical 
 Thou hast refus'd : but lo, 1 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 bullocks, 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 1 dwell, 
 Though Israel is in arms ; and royal Saul, 
 Encamp'd in yonder field, defies Philistia. 
 
 Jesse, David. 
 
 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 fond complacence. How unlike thy fate, 
 
52 DAVID AND GOLIATH. 
 
 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, Heav'n ! 
 
 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. 
 
 Oh ! 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 atones 
 The niggard boon of fortune. 
 
 Oh ! my son ! 
 Of all the graces which adorn thy youth, 
 I, with a fathers fondness must commend 
 Thy tried 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 : 
 Tile weak ones in his fost'ring bosom bears ; 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 53 
 
 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 yonder plain, 
 And all Philistia's swarming hosts encamp, 
 Oppos'd to royal Saul, beneath \^hose banners - 
 My brothers lift the spear, — I have not left 
 My fleecy charge, by thee committed to me, 
 To learn the various fortune 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. 
 
54 DAVID AND GOLIATH. 
 
 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 lingYing 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 fallen 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, 
 
 By one man's crime, by one man's lust of pow'r, 
 
 Unpeopled ! Ravag'd fields assume the place 
 
 Of smiling harvests, and uncultured 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 virgin's 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 widow's tears ! 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 56 
 
 Thrice mournful truth ! 
 Yet when our country's sacred rights are menac'd ; 
 Her rirm 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, 
 Arescorn'd and trampled on — then, then, my father ! 
 'Tis then Religion's voice; then God himself 
 Commands us to defend his injur'd name, 
 And think the victory cheaply bought with life. 
 Twere then inglorious weakness, mean self-love, 
 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. 
 
 Cod and thy country claim the life they gave 
 No other cause can sanctify resentment. 
 
 Sure virtuous friendship is a noble cause ! 
 Oh, were the princely Jonathan in danger, 
 How v\o ild I die, well pleas'd in his defence ! 
 When, 'twas long since, then but a stripling boy 
 I made short sojourn in his father's palace 
 (At first to sooth his troubled mind with song, 
 His armour-bearer next), 1 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 
 
56 DAVID AND GOLIATH. 
 
 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 thee, 
 Than if a crown hung o'er thy anxious brow. 
 The jealous monarch mark'd our growing friend- 
 ship ; 
 And as my favour grew with those about him, 
 His royal bounty lessen'd, till at length, 
 For Bethl'hem's safer shades I left the court. 
 Nor would these alter'd features now be 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 : 
 Observe their deeds, note their demeanour well, 
 And mark if on their actions Wisdom waits. 
 Bear to them too (for well the waste of war 
 Will make it needful), such plain healthful viands 
 As furnish out our frugal shepherd's meal. 
 And to the valiant captain of their host 
 Present such rural gifts as suit our fortune i 
 Heap'd on the board within my tent thou'lt find 
 them. 
 
 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. 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 57 
 
 Delightful (ask ! — for I shall view the camp ! 
 What transport to behold the tented field, 
 The pointed spear, the blaze of shields and arms, 
 And all the proud accoutrements of war! 
 But, oh ! far dearer transport would it yield me, 
 Could this right arm alone avenge the cause 
 Of injur'd Israel! could my single death 
 Preserve the guiltless thousands doom'd to bleed ! 
 
 Let not thy youth be dazzled, O my son ! 
 With deeds of bold emprize, as valour only 
 Were virtue; and the gentle arts of peace, 
 Of truth and justice, were not worth thy care. 
 AVhen thou shalt view the splendours of the war. 
 The gay caparison, the burnish'd shield, 
 The plume-crown'd helmet, and the glitt'ring spear, 
 Scorn not the humble virtues of the shade, 
 Nor think that Heav'n views only with applause, 
 The active merit and the busy toil 
 Of heroes, statesmen, and the bustling sons 
 Of public care. These have their just reward, 
 In wealth, in honours, and the well-earn'd fame, 
 Their high achievements bring. 'Tis in this view 
 That virtue is her proper recompense; 
 Wealth, as its natural consequence, will flow 
 From industry: toil with success is crown'd: 
 From splendid actions high renown will spring: 
 Such is the usual course of human things; 
 For Wisdom Infinite permits, that thus 
 Effects to causes be proportionate, 
 And nat'ral enis by nat'ral means achiev'd. 
 
 E 
 
58 DAVID AND GOLIATH. 
 
 But in the future estimate which Heav'n 
 
 Will make of things terrestrial, know, my son, 
 
 That no inferior blessing is reserv'd 
 
 For the mild passive virtues: meek Content, 
 
 Heroic Self-denial, nobler far 
 
 Than all the achievements noisy Fame reports 
 
 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 recompense, for the dread day 
 
 Of gen'ral retribution. O my son! 
 
 The ostentatious virtues which still press 
 
 For notice and for praise; the brilliant deeds 
 
 Which live hut in the eye of observation, 
 
 These have their meed 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. 
 
 Heav'n notes the sigh afflicted Goodness heaves ; 
 
 Hears the low plaint hy human ear unheard, 
 
 And from the cheek of patient Sorrow wipes 
 
 The tear, by mortal eye unseen or scorn'd. 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 As Hermon's dew their grateful freshness shed, 
 And cheer the herbage, and the flow'rs renew, 
 So do thy words a quick'ning balm infuse, 
 And grateful sink in my delighted soul. 
 
 JESSE. 
 
 Go then, my child ! and may the gracious God 
 Who bless'd our fathers, bless my much-lov'd son ! 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 59 
 
 DAV1U. 
 Farewell, my father! — and of this be sure, 
 That not one precept from thy honour'd lips 
 Shall fall by me unnoticM; not one grace, 
 One venerable virtue which adorns 
 Thy daily life, but I, with watchful care 
 And due observance, will in mine transplant it. 
 
 [Exit David. 
 
 JESSE. 
 
 He's gone ! and still my aching eyes pursue, 
 And strain their orbs still longer to behold him. 
 Oh! who can tell when I may next embrace him? 
 Who can declare the counsels of the Lord? 
 Or when the moment, pre-ordain'd by Heav'n 
 To fill his great designs, may come? This son, 
 This blessing of my age, is set apart 
 For high exploits; the chosen instrument 
 Of all-di--pojing Heav'n for mighty deeds. 
 Still I'recal the day, and to my mind 
 The scene is ever present, when the Seer, 
 Illustrious Samuel, to the humble shades 
 Of Bethlehem came, pretending sacrifice, 
 To screen his errand from the jealous king. 
 He sanctified us first, me and my sons; 
 For sanctity increas'd should still precede 
 Increase of dignity. When he declared 
 He came, commissioned from on High, to find, 
 Among the sons of Jesse, Israel's king, 
 Astonishment entrane'd my wond'ring soul ! 
 Yet was it not a wild tumultuous bliss; 
 Such rash delight as promis'd honours yield 
 
60 DAVID AND GOLIATH. 
 
 To light vain minds: no, 'twas a doubtful joy, 
 
 Chastis'd by tim'rous Virtue, lest a gift 
 
 So splendid and so dang'rous might destroy 
 
 Him it was not meant to raise. My eldest born, 
 
 Eliab, tall of stature, I presented ; 
 
 But God, who judges not by outward form, 
 
 But tries the heart, forbade the holy prophet 
 
 To choose my eldest born. For Saul, he said, 
 
 Gave proof, that fair proportion, and the grace 
 
 Of limb or feature, ill repaid the want 
 
 Of virtue. All my other sons alike 
 
 By Samuel were rejected ; till, at last, 
 
 On my young boy, on David's chosen head, 
 
 The prophet pour'd the consecrated oil. 
 
 Yet ne'er did pride elate him, ne'er did scorn 
 
 For his rejected elders swell his heart. 
 
 Not in such gentle charity to him 
 
 His haughtier brothers live: but all he pardons. 
 
 To meditation, and to humble toil, 
 
 To pray'r, and praise devoted, here he dwells. 
 
 Oh, may the graces which adorn retreat 
 
 One day delight a court ! record his name 
 
 With saints and prophets, dignify his race, 
 
 And may the sacred songs his leisure frames 
 
 Instruct mankind, and sanctify a world ! 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 61 
 
 PART II. 
 
 SCENE— The Camp. 
 
 Eliab, Abinadab, Abner, Israelites. 
 
 eliab. 
 Stile, is the event of this long war uncertain; 
 Still do the adverse hosts on either side, 
 Protract with ling'ring caution, an encounter, 
 Which must to one be fatal. 
 
 ABIVADAB. 
 
 This descent, 
 Thus to the very confines of our land, 
 Proclaims the sanguine hope that fires the foe, 
 In Ephes-dammim boldly they encamp: 
 The uncircuracis'd Philistines pitch their tents 
 On Judah's hallow'd earth. 
 
 Full forty days 
 Has the insulting giant, proud Goliath, 
 The champion of Philistia, fiercely challeng'd 
 Some Israelitish foe. But who so vain 
 To dare such force unequal? who so bent 
 On sure destruction, to accept his terms, 
 And rush on death, beneath the giant force 
 Of his enormous bulk? 
 
62 DAVID AND GOLIATH. 
 
 ABINADAB. 
 
 'Tis near the time 
 "When in the adjacent valley which divides 
 The opposing armies, he is wont to make 
 His daily challenge. 
 
 ELIAB. 
 
 Much I marvel, brother, 
 No greetings from our father reach our ears. 
 With ease and plenty bless'd, he little recks 
 The daily hardships which his sons endure. 
 But see! behold, his darling boy approaches. 
 
 ABINADAB. 
 
 How, David here! whence this unlook'd for 
 guest? 
 
 ELIAB. 
 
 A spy upon our actions ; sent, no doubt, 
 To scan our deeds, with beardless gravity 
 Affecting wisdom ; to observe each word, 
 To magnify the venial faults of youth, 
 And construe harmless mirth to foul offence. 
 
 Enter David. 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 All hail, my dearest brothers! 
 
 ELIAB, 
 
 Means thy greeting 
 True love, or arrogant scorn ? 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 Oh, most true love ! 
 Sweet as the precious ointment which bedew'd 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 63 
 
 The sacred head of Aaron, and descended 
 Upon his hallow'd vest; so sweet, my brothers, 
 Is fond fraternal amity; such love 
 As my touch'd bosom feels at your approach. 
 
 ELrAB. 
 
 Still that fine glozing speech, those holy saws, 
 And all that trick of studied sanctity, 
 Of smooth-turn"d periods and trim eloquence, 
 "Which charms thy doting father! But confess* 
 What dost thou here ! Is it to sooth thy pride, 
 And gratify thy vain desire to roam 
 In quest of pleasures unallo\v"d ? or com'st thou, 
 A willing spy, to note thy brothers' deeds? 
 Where hast thou left those few poor strangling sheep ? 
 More suited to thy ignorance and years 
 The care of those, than here to wander idly ; 
 "SVhy cam"st thou hither? 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 Is there not a cause ? 
 Why that displeasure kindling in thine eye, 
 My angry brother? why those taunts unkind? 
 Not idly bent on sport ; not to delight 
 Mine eye with all this gay parade of war; 
 To gratify a roving appetite, 
 Or fondly to indulge a curious ear 
 With any tale of rumour, am I come; 
 But to approve my-elf a loving brother. 
 I bring the blessing of your aged sire, 
 With gifts of such plain cates and rural viands 
 As suit his frugal fortune. Tell me now, 
 Where the bold captain of your host encamps? 
 
64 DAVID AND GOLIATtf. 
 
 ELIAB. 
 Wherefore inquire ? what boots it thee to know? 
 Behold him there ? great Abner, fam'd in arms. 
 
 DAWD. 
 
 I bring thee, mighty Abner, from my father 
 (A simple shepherd swain in yonder vale), 
 Such humble gifts as shepherd swains bestow. 
 
 Thanks, gentle youth, with pleasure I receive 
 The grateful off 'ring. Why does thy quick eye 
 Thus wander with unsatisfied delight? 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 New as I am to all the trade of war, 
 Each sound has novelty; each thing I see 
 Attracts attention ; every noise J hear 
 Awakes confus'd emotions; indistinct, 
 Yet full of charming tumult, sweet distraction, 
 'Tis all delightful hurry ! Oh ! the joy 
 Of young ideas painted on the mind, 
 In the warm glowing colours fancy spreads 
 On objects not yet known, when all is new, 
 And all is lovely ! Ah ! what warlike sound 
 Salutes my ravish'd ear? [Sound of Trumpet. 
 
 'Tis the Philistine, 
 Proclaiming by his herald, through the ranks, 
 His near approach. Each morning he repeats 
 His challenge to our bands. 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 65 
 
 DAVID. 
 Ha! what Philistine? 
 
 Who is he ? 
 
 ELIAB. 
 
 Wherefore ask? for thy raw youth 
 And rustic ignorance, 'twere fitter learn 
 Some rural art! some secret to prevent 
 Contagion in thy flocks; some better means 
 To save their fleece immaculate. These mean arts 
 Of soft inglorious peace far better suit 
 Thy low obscurity, than thus to seek 
 High things pertaining to exploits of arms. 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 Urg'd as I am, I will not answer thee. 
 Who conquers his own spirit, O my brother ! 
 He is the only conqueror. — Again 
 That shout mysterious ! Pray you (to Abner), tell 
 
 me who 
 This proud Philistine is, who sends defiance 
 To Israel's hardy chieftains ? 
 
 ABNER. 
 
 Stranger youth ! 
 So lovely and so mild is thy demeanour, 
 So gentle and so patient; such the air 
 Of candour and of courage which adorns 
 Thy blooming features, thou hast won my love : 
 And I will tell thee. 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 Mighty Abner, thanks! 
 
66 DAVID AND GOLIATH. 
 
 Thrice, and no more, he sounds his daily rule! 
 This man of war, this champion of Philistia, 
 Is of the sons of Anak's giant-race: 
 Goliath is Tiis name. His fearful stature, 
 Unparallerd in Israel, measures more 
 Than twice three cubits. On his tow'ring head 
 A helm of burnish'd brass the giant wears, 
 So pond'rous, it would crush the stoutest man 
 In all our hosts. A coat of mailed armour 
 Guards his capacious trunk ; compar'd with which, 
 The amplest oak that spreads his rugged arms 
 In Bashan's groves, were small. About his neck 
 A shining corslet hangs. On his vast thigh 
 The plaited cuiras?, firmly jointed, stands. 
 But who shall tell the wonders of his spear, 
 And hope to gain belief! Of massive iron 
 Its temper'd frame; not less than the broad beam 
 To which the busy weaver hangs his loom: 
 Not to be wielded by a mortal hand, 
 Save by his own. An armour-bearer walks 
 Before this mighty champion, in his hand 
 Bearing the giant's shield. Thrice ev'ry morn 
 His herald sounds the trumpet of defiance! 
 Off'ring at once to end the long-drawn war 
 In single combat, ? gainst that hardy foe 
 Who dares encounter him. 
 
 Say, mighty Abner, 
 What are the haughty terms of his defiance ? 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 67 
 
 ABNER. 
 
 Proudly he stalks around the extremest bounds 
 Of Elah's vale. His herald sounds the note 
 Of offer'd battle. Then the furious giant, 
 With such a voice as from the troubl- d sky 
 In vollied thunder br aks, thus s nds his challenge : 
 " Why do yon set your battle in array, 
 Ye men of Israel ? Wherefore waste the lives 
 Of needless thousands ? Why protract a war 
 Which may at once be ended? Are not you 
 Servants to Saul, your king ? and am not I, 
 With triumph let me speak it, a Philistine ? 
 Choose out a man from all your armed hosts, 
 Of courage most approv'd, and I will meet him; 
 His single arm to mine. The event of this 
 Shall fix the fate of Israel and Philistia. 
 If victory favour him, then we will live 
 Your tributary slaves ; but if my arm 
 Be crown'd with conquest, you shall then live our . 
 Give me a man, if your effeminate bands 
 A man can boast. Your armies I defy !" 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 AY hat shall be done to him who shall subdue 
 This vile idolater ? 
 
 AB.VER. 
 
 He shall receive 
 Such ample bounties, such profuse rewards, 
 As might inflame the old, or warm the coward, 
 Were not the odds so desperate. 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 Say what arc they ? 
 
68 DAVID AND GOLIATH. 
 
 The royal Saul has promiVd that bold hero, 
 Who should encounter and subdue Goliath, 
 All dignity and favour ; that his house 
 Shall be set free from tribute, and ennobled 
 With the first honours Israel has to give. 
 And for the gallant conqueror himself, 
 No less a recompense than the fair princess, 
 Our monarch's peerless daughter. 
 
 Beauteous Michal! 
 It is indeed a boon which kings might strive for. 
 And has none ansvver'd yet this bold defiance ? 
 What ! all this goodly host of Israelites ! 
 God's own peculiar people! all afraid 
 To' assert God's injur'd honour and their own ? 
 Where is the king, who, in his early youth 
 Wrought deeds of fame ? Where princely Jonathan? 
 Not so the gallant youth Philistia fear'd 
 At Bozez and at Seneh*; when the earth 
 Shook from her deep foundations, to behold 
 The wondrous carnage of his single hand 
 On the uncircumcis'd. When he exclaim'd, 
 With glorious confidence — " Shall numbers awe me? 
 God will protect his own; with him to save, 
 It boots not, friends, by many or by few." 
 This was an hero ! Why does he delay 
 To meet this boaster ? For thy courtesy, 
 Thrice noble Abner, I am bound to thank thee! 
 
 * 1 Samuel xiv. 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 69 
 
 "VVouldst thou complete thy geivrous offices ? 
 I dare not ask it. 
 
 ABNER. 
 
 Speak thy wishes freely : 
 My soul inclines to serve thee. 
 
 Then, O Abner, 
 Conduct me to the king ! There is a cause 
 Will justify this boldness ! 
 
 ELIAB. 
 
 Braggard, hold ! 
 
 ABNER. 
 
 I take thee at thy word ; and will, with speed, 
 Conduct thee to my royal master's presence. 
 In yonder tent the anxious monarch waits 
 The event of this day's challenge. 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 Noble Abner, 
 Accept my thanks. Now to thy private ear, 
 If so thy grace permit, 1 will unfold 
 My secret soul, and ease my lab'ring breast, 
 "Which pants with high designs, and beats for glory. 
 
70 DAVID AND GOLIATH. 
 
 PART III. 
 
 Scene — Saul's Tent. 
 
 SAUL. 
 
 Why was T made a king ? what I have gain'd 
 
 In envied greatness and uneasy pow'r, 
 
 I've lost in peace of mind, in virtue lost! 
 
 Why did deceitful transports fire my soul 
 
 When Samuel plac'd upon my youthful brow 
 
 The crown of Israel ? I had known content, 
 
 Nay happiness, if happiness unmix'd 
 
 To mortal man were known, had I still liv'd 
 
 Among the humble tents of Benjamin. 
 
 A shepherd's occupation was my joy, 
 
 And every guiltless day was crown'd with peace. 
 
 But now, a sullen cloud for ever hangs 
 
 O'er the faint sunshine of my brightest hours, 
 
 Dark'ning the golden promise of the morn. 
 
 I ne'er shall taste the dear domestic joys 
 
 My meanest subjects know. True, I have sons, 
 
 Whose virtues would have charm'd a private man, 
 
 And drawn down blessings on their humble sire. 
 
 I love their virtnes too ; but 'tis a love 
 
 W T hich jealousy has poison'd. Jonathan 
 
 Is all a father's fondness could conceive 
 
 Of amiable and good — Of that no more ! 
 
 He is too popular ; the people dote 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 71 
 
 Upon the ingenuous graces of his youth. 
 Curs'd popularity ! which makes a father 
 Detest the merit of a son he loves. 
 How did their fond idolatry, perforce, 
 Rescue his sentene'd life, when doom'd by lot 
 To perish at Beth-aven*, for the breach 
 Of strict injunction, that of all my bands, 
 Not one that day should taste of food and live! 
 My subjects clamour at this tedious war ; 
 Yet, of my num'rous armed chiefs, not one 
 Has courage to engage this man of Gath. 
 Oh for a champion bold enough to face 
 This giant-boaster, whose repeated threats 
 Strike through my inmost soul ! There was a time — 
 Of that no more! — I am not what I was. 
 Should valiant Jonathan accept the challenge, 
 'Twould but increase his influence, raise his fame, 
 And make the crown sit loosely on my brow. 
 Ill could my wounded spirit brook the voice 
 Of harsh comparison 'twixt sire and son. 
 
 Saul, Abner. 
 
 ABNER. 
 
 What meditation holds thee thus engag'd, 
 O king! and keeps thine active spirit bound ; 
 When busy war far other cares demand 
 Than ruminating thought and pale despair ? 
 
 SAUL. 
 
 Abner, draw near. My weary soul sinks down 
 Beneath the heavy pressure of misfortune. 
 
 * 1 Samuel xiv. 
 
7'2 DAVID AND GOLIATH. 
 
 Oh for that spirit which inflam'd my breast 
 
 With sudden fervour, when among the seers 
 
 And holy sages my prophetic voice 
 
 Was heard attentive, and the astonish'd throng, 
 
 Wond'ring, exclaim'd, " Is Saul among the 
 
 Prophets?" 
 Where's that bold arm which quell'd the Amalekite, 
 And nobly spar'd fierce Agag and his flocks ? 
 'Tis past ! the light of Israel now is quench'd : 
 Shorn of his beams, my sun of glory sets ! 
 Rise Moab, Edom, angry Amnion rise ! 
 Come, Gaza, Ashdod come ! let Ekron boast, 
 And Askelon rejoice, for Saul is — nothing, 
 
 ABXER. 
 
 I bring thee news, O king ! 
 
 SAUL. 
 
 My valiant uncle ! 
 What can avail thy news ? A soul oppress'd 
 Refuses still to hear the charmer's voice, 
 Howe'er enticingly he charm. What news 
 Can sooth my sickly soul, w hile Gath's fell giant 
 Repeats each morning to my frighten'd hosts 
 His daring challenge, none accepting it? 
 
 ABXER. 
 
 It is accepted. 
 
 SACL. 
 
 Ha! by whom? how? when? 
 What prince, what gen'ral, what illustrious hero, 
 What vet'ran chief, what warrior of renown, 
 Will dare to meet the haughty foe's defiance ? 
 Speak, my brave gen'ral ! noble Abner, speak ! 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 73 
 
 ABNER. 
 
 No prince, no warrior, no illustrious chief, 
 No vet'ran hero dares accept the challenge ? 
 But what will move thy wonder, mighty king, 
 One train'd to peaceful deeds, and new to arms, 
 A simple shepherd swain ! 
 
 SAUL. 
 
 Oh mockery! 
 No more of this slight tale, it suits but ill 
 Thy bearded gravity; or rather tell it 
 To credulous age, or weak believing women; 
 They love whate'er is marvellous, and dote 
 On deeds prodigious and incredible, 
 Which sober sense rejects. I laugh to think 
 Of thy extravagance. A shepherd's boy, 
 Encounter him whom nations dread to meet ! 
 
 ABNER. 
 
 Is valour, then, peculiar to high birth? 
 If Heav'n had so decreed, know, scornful king, 
 That Saul the Benjamite had never rcign'd. 
 No! glory darts her soul-pervading ray 
 On thrones and cottages, regardless still 
 Of all the artificial nice distinctions 
 Vain human customs make. 
 
 SAUL. 
 
 Where is this youth ? 
 
 ABNER. 
 
 Without thy tent he waits. Such humble sweet- 
 ness, 
 Fir'd with the secret conscience of desert ; 
 
 F 
 
74 DAVID AND GOLIATH. 
 
 Such manly bearing, temper'd with such softness, 
 And so adorn'd with ev'ry outward charm 
 Of graceful form and feature, saw I never. 
 
 SAIL. 
 
 Bring me the youth. 
 
 ABATER. 
 
 He waits thy royal pleasure. 
 
 [Exit J liner. 
 SAUL. 
 
 What must I think? Abner himself is brave, 
 And skill'd in humankind: nor does he judge 
 So lightly, to be caught with specious words 
 And Fraud's smooth artifice, were there not marks 
 Of worth intrinsic. But, behold, he comes; 
 The youth too with him ! Justly did he praise 
 The candour which adorns his open brow. 
 
 .Re-enter Abner and David. 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 Hail, might} king! 
 
 ABNER. 
 
 Behold thy profFer'd champion ! 
 
 SATJL. 
 
 Art thou the youth whose high heroic zeal 
 Aspires to meet the giant son of Anak? 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 If so the king permit. 
 
 SAIL. 
 
 Impossible ! 
 Why, what experience has thy youth of arms? 
 "Where, stripling, didst thou learn the trade of war 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 70 
 
 Beneath what hoary vet'ran hast thou serv'd? 
 What feats hast thou achiev'd, what daring deeds? 
 What well-rang'd phalanx, say, what charging hosts 
 What hard campaign-, what sieges hast thou seen? 
 Jlasl thou e'er scal'd the city's rampir'd wall, 
 Or hurl'd the mi?sile dart, or learn'd to poise 
 Tiie warrior's deathful spear? The use of targe, 
 Of helm, and buckler, i* to thee unknown. 
 
 Arms I have seldom seen. I little know 
 Of war's proud discipline. The trumpet's clans:, 
 The shock of charging hosts, the rampir'd wall, 
 The embattled phalanx, and the warrior's spear, 
 The use of targe and helm to me is new, 
 My zeal for God, my patriot love of Israel, 
 My revVence for my king, behold my claims! 
 
 But, gentle youth, thou hast no fame in arms. 
 Renown, with her shrill clarion, never bore 
 Thy honour'd name to many a land remote; 
 From fc fair regions where Euphrates laves 
 Assyria"; borders to the distant Nile. 
 
 DAvrD. 
 
 True, mighty king! I am indeed alike 
 Unbless'd by Fortune, and to Fame unknown; 
 A lowly shepherd swain of Judah's tribe : 
 But greatness ever springs from low beginnings. 
 That very Nile thou mention'st, whose broad strearA 
 Bears fruitfulness and health through many a clime, 
 
76 DAVID AND GOLIATH. 
 
 From an uuknow n, penurious, scanty source 
 
 Took its first rise. The forest oak, which shades 
 
 Thy sultry t oops in many a toilsome march, 
 
 Once an unheeded acorn lay. O king! 
 
 Who ne'er begins can never aught achieve 
 
 Of glorious. Thou thyself was once unknown, 
 
 Till fair occasion brought thy worth to light. 
 
 Far higher views inspire my youthful heart 
 
 Than human praise : I seek to vindicate 
 
 The insulted honour of the God I serve. 
 
 Tis nobly said. 
 
 SAUL. 
 
 I love thy spirit, youth : 
 But dare not trust thy ine.xperienc'd arm 
 Against a giant's might. The sight of blood, 
 Though brave thou feel'st when peril is not nigh, 
 Will pale thy ardent cheek. 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 Xot so, O king! 
 This youthful arm has been imbru'd in blood, 
 Though yet no blood of man has ever stain'd it. 
 Thy servant's occupation is a shepherd. 
 With je.lous care 1 watch'd my father's flock: 
 A brindled lion and a furious bear 
 Forth from the thicket ru?h'd upon the fold, 
 SeJz'd a young lamb, and tore their bleating spoil. 
 Urg'd by compassion for my helpless charge, 
 I felt a new-born vigour nerve my arm ; 
 Aiid, eager, on the foaming monsters rush'd. 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 
 
 The famish'd lion by his grisly beard, 
 Enrag'd, I caught, and smote him to the ground. 
 The panting monster struggling in my gripe, 
 Shook terribly his bristling mane, and lash'd 
 His own gaunt, gory sides; fiercely he ground 
 His gnashing teeth, and roll'd his starting eyes, 
 Bloodshot with agony ; then with a groan, 
 That wak'd the echoes of the mountain, died. 
 Nor did his grim associate 'scape my arm; 
 Thy servant slew the lion and the bear. 
 I kill'd them both, and bore their shaggy spoils 
 In triumph home: and shall I fear to meet 
 The uncircumcis'd Philistine! No: that God, 
 Who sav'd me from the bear's destructive fang, 
 And hungry lion's jaw, will not he save me 
 From this idolater ? 
 
 He will, he will! 
 Go, noble youth! be valiant and be hless'd! 
 The God thou serv'st will shield thee in the fight, 
 And nerve thy arm with more than mortal strength. 
 
 AB\ER. 
 
 So the bold Nazarite* a lion slew: 
 An earnest of his victories o'er Philistia! 
 
 SAUL. 
 
 Go, Abner; see the youth be well equipp'd 
 
 With shield and spear. Be it thy care to grace him 
 
 With all the fit accoutrements of war. 
 
 • Sampson. See Judges xiv. 
 
78 DAVID AND GOLIATH. 
 
 The choicest mail from my rich armory take, 
 And gird upon his thigh my own tried sword, 
 Of noblest temper'd steel. 
 
 ABXER. 
 
 I shall obey. 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 Pardon, O king ! the coat of plaited mail 
 These limbs have never known; it would not shield. 
 'Twould but encumber one who never felt 
 The weight of armour. 
 
 SAIL. 
 
 Take thy wish, my son! 
 Thy sword then, and the God of Jacob guard thee .' 
 
 PART IV. 
 
 Scene — Another Part of the Camp. 
 
 David (kneeling). 
 
 Eternal Justice! in whose awful scale 
 The event of battle hangs! Eternal Truth! 
 Whose beam illumines all ! Eternal Mercy ! 
 If, by thy attributes I may, unblam'd, 
 Address thee ; Lord of Glory ! hear me now : 
 Oh teach these hands to war, these arms to fight ! 
 Thou ever present help in time of need ! 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 79 
 
 Let thy broad mercy, as a shield, defend, 
 
 And let thine everlasting arms support me! 
 
 Strong in thy strength, in thy protection safe. 
 
 Then, though the heathen rage, 1 shall not fear. 
 
 Jehovah, be my buckler! Mighty Lord ! 
 
 Thou who hast deign'd by humble instruments 
 
 To manifest the wonders of thy might, 
 
 Be present with me now! Tis thine own cause ! 
 
 Thy wisdom sees event?, thy goodness plans 
 
 Schemes baffling our conceptions — and 'tis still 
 
 Omnipotence which executes the deed 
 
 Of high design, though by a feeble arm ! 
 
 I feel a secret impulse drive me on ; 
 
 And my soul springs impatient for the fight ! 
 
 'Tis not the heated spirits, or warm blood 
 
 Of sanguine youth with which my bosom burns; 
 
 And, though I thirst to meet the insulting foe, 
 
 And pant for glory, 'tis not, witness lleav'n ! 
 
 'Tis not the sinful lust of fading fame, 
 
 The perishable praise of mortal man ; 
 
 His praise I covet, whose applause is Life. 
 
 David, Emab, Israelites. 
 
 eliab. 
 What do I hear? thou truant! thou bast dar'd 
 E'en to the awfid presence of the king 
 Bear thy presumption.' 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 He who fears the Lord 
 Shall boldly stand before the face of kings, 
 And shall not be asham'd. 
 
80 DAVID AND GOLIATH. 
 
 ELTAB. 
 
 But what wild dream 
 Has urg'd thee to this deed of desp'rate rashness ? 
 Thou mean'st, so I have learn'd, to meet Goliath, 
 His single arm to thine. 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 ? Tis what I purpose, 
 E'en on this spot. Each moment I expect 
 His wish'd approach. 
 
 ELIAB. 
 
 Go home; return, for shame ! 
 Nor madly draw destruction on thy head. 
 Thy doating father, when thy shepherd's coat, 
 Drench'd in thy blood, is brought him, will lament, 
 And rend his furrow'd cheek, and silver hair, 
 As if some mighty loss had touch d his age: 
 And mourn, even as the partial patriarch mourn'd 
 When Joseph's bloody garment he receiv'd 
 From his less dear, not less deserving sons.. 
 But whence (hat glitt'ring ornament which hangs 
 Useless upon thy thigh? 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 'Tis the king's gift. 
 But thou art right; it suits not me, my brother'. 
 Nor sword I mean to use, nor spear to pois", 
 Lest men should say I put my trust in arms, 
 Not in the Lord of Hosts. 
 
 ELIAB. 
 
 Then thou, indeed, 
 Art bent to seek thy death ? 
 
A SACRED DR\MA. 81 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 And what is death? 
 Is it so terrible to die, my brother? 
 Or grant it terrible, is it for that 
 The less inevitable? If, indeed, 
 We could by stratagem elude the blow, 
 When some high duty calls us forth to die, 
 And thus for ever shun it, and escape 
 The universal lot, — then fond self-love, 
 Then cautious prudence, boldly might produce 
 Their fine-spun arguments, their learn'd harangues, 
 Their cobweb arts, their phrase sophistical, 
 Their subtle doubts, and all the specious trick 
 Of selfish cunning lab'ring for its end. 
 But since, howe'er protracted, death will come, 
 Why fondly study, with ingenious pains, 
 To put it oft'? — To breathe a little longer 
 Is to defer our fate, but not to shun it. 
 Small gain! which Wisdom with indiff'rent eye 
 Beholds. Why wish to drink the bitter dregs 
 Of life's exhausted chalice, whose last runnings, 
 E\'n at the best, are vapid? Why not die 
 (If Heav'n so will) in manhood's op'ning bloom, 
 When all the flush of life is gay about us; 
 When sprightly youth, w ith many a new-born joy, 
 Solicits every sense ? So may we then 
 Present a sacrifice, unmeet indeed, 
 (Ah, how unmeet!) but less unworthy far, 
 Than the world's leavings; than a worn-out heart, 
 By vice uufeebled, and by vain desires 
 sunk ajid exhausted ! 
 
82 
 
 DAVID AND GOLIATH. 
 
 ELIAB. 
 
 Hark! I hear a sound 
 Of multitudes approaching! 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 'Tis the giant ! 
 I see him not, but hear his measur'd pace. 
 
 Look, where his pond'rous shield is borne before 
 him ! 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 Like a broad moon its ample disk portends. 
 But soft! — what unknown prodigy appears? 
 A moving mountain cas'd in polish'd brass ! 
 
 Eliab (getting behind David.) 
 How"sthis? thou dost not tremble. Thy firm joints 
 Betray no fear; thy accents are not broken ; 
 Thy cheek retains its red ; thine eye its lustre! 
 He comes more near! Dost thou not fear him now ? 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 No. 
 The vast colossal statue nor inspires 
 Respect nor fear. Mere magnitude of form, 
 "Without proportion'd intellect and valour, 
 Strikes not my soul with rev'rence or with awe. 
 
 Near and more near he conies! I hold it rash 
 To stay so near him, and expose a life 
 Which may, hereafter, serve the state. Farewell. 
 
 Exit. 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 83 
 
 [Goliatit advances, clad in complete Armour. One 
 bearing his Shield precedes him. The opposing 
 Armies are seen at a Distance, drawn, upon each 
 Side of the Valley. Goliath begins to speak be- 
 fore he comes on. David stands in the same 
 Place with an air of indifference.'] 
 
 "Where is the mighty man of war, who dares 
 Accept the challenge of Philistia's chief? 
 What victor king, what gen'ral drench'd in blood, 
 Claims this high privilege ? What are his rights ? 
 What proud credentials does the boaster bring 
 To prove his claim: What cities laid in ashes? 
 What ruin'd provinces? What slaughter'd realms? 
 What heads of heroes, and what hearts of kings, 
 In battle kilTd, or at his altars slain, 
 Has he to boast ? Is his bright armory 
 Thick set with spears, and swords, and coats of mail 
 Of vanquish'd nations, by his single arm 
 Subdued ? Where is the mortal man so bold, 
 So much a wretch, so out of love with life, 
 To dare the weight of this uplifted spear, 
 Which never fell innoxious? Yet I swear, 
 I grudge the glory to his parting soul 
 To fall by this right hand. 'Twill sweeten deatii, 
 To know he had the honour to contend 
 AVith the dread son of Anak. Latest time, 
 From blank oblivion, shall retrieve his name 
 Who dar'd to perish in unequal fight 
 With Gath's triumphant champion. Come, advance. 
 
84 DAVID AND GOLIATH. 
 
 Philistia's gods to Israel's. Sound, my ht raid — 
 Sound for the battle straight. 
 
 [Herald sounds the Trump:?. 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 Behold thy foe! 
 
 I see him not. 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 Behold him here! 
 
 GOLIATH. 
 
 Say, where ! 
 Direct my sight. I do not war with boys. 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 I stand prepar'd : thy single arm to mine. 
 
 GOLIATH. 
 
 Why this is mockery, minion ! it may chance 
 To cost thee dear. Sport not with things above thee ! 
 But tell me who of all this num'rous host 
 Expects his death from me? Which is the man 
 Whom Israel sends to meet my bold defiance? 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 The election of my sov 'reign falls on me. 
 
 GOLIATH. 
 
 On thee! on thee! By Dagon, 'tis too much! 
 Thou curled minion! thou a nation's champion! 
 'Twould move my mirth at any other time ; 
 But trifling's out of tune. Be gone, light boy ! 
 And tempt me not too far. 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 85 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 I do defy thee, 
 Thou foul idolater! Hast thou not scornd 
 The armies of the living; God I serve? 
 By me he will avenge upon thy head 
 Thy nation's sins and thine. Ann'd with his name, 
 Unshrinking, I dare meet the stoutest fne 
 That ever bath'd his hostile spear in blood. 
 
 Goliath (ironically). 
 Indeed! 'lis wondrous well. Xow, by my gods, 
 The stripling plays th<* orator! Vain boy ! 
 Keep close to that same bloodless war of words. 
 And thou shalt still be safe. Tongue-valiant warrior! 
 "Where is thy silvan crook, with garlands hung, 
 Of idle field-flowers \ Where thy wanton harp, 
 Thou dainty-finger'd hero? better strike 
 Its notes lascivious, or the lulling lute 
 Touch softly, than provoke the trumpet's rage. 
 I will not stain the honour of my spear 
 "With thy inglorious blood. Shall that fair cheek 
 Be scarr'd with wounds unseemly? Rather go 
 And hold fond dalliance with the Syrian maids; 
 To wanton measures dance, and let them braid 
 The bright luxuriance of thy golden hair; 
 They for their lost Adonis may mistake 
 Thy dainty form. 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 Peac e, thou unhallow'd railer! 
 Oh, tell it not in Gath, nor let the sound 
 Reach Askelon, how once your slaughter'd lords 
 
00 DAVID AND GOLIATH. 
 
 By mighty Sampson* found one common grave: 
 When his broad shoulders the firm pillars heav'd, 
 And to its base the tott'ring fabric shook. 
 
 Insulting boy ! perhaps thou hast not heard 
 The infamy of that inglorious day, 
 When your weak hosts at Eben-ezert pitch'd 
 Their quick-abandon'd tents ? Then, when your ark, 
 Your talisman, your charm, your boasted pledge 
 Of safety and success, was tamely lost! 
 And yet not tamely, since by me 'twas won. 
 When with this good right arm I thinn'd your ranks, 
 And bravely crush'd, beneath a single blow, 
 The chosen guardians of this vaunted shrine, 
 Hophni J and Phineas. The fam'd ark itself 
 I bore to Ashdod. 
 
 T remember too, 
 Since thou provok'st the unwelcome truth, how all 
 Your blushing priests beheld their idol's shame; 
 When prostrate Dagon fell before the ark, 
 And your frail god was shiver'd. Then Philistia, 
 Idolatrous Philisiia, flew for succour 
 To Israel's help ; and all her smitten nobles 
 Confess'd the Lord was God ; and the blcss'd ark, 
 Gladly, with reverential awe restor'd. 
 
 * Judges xvi. t 1 Samuel v. 
 
 ; Commentators say, that the Cbaldee Paraphrase makes 
 Goliath boast that he bad killed Hophni aud Phmeas, and 
 taken the ark prisoner. 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 87 
 
 GOLIATH. 
 
 By Ashdod's fane thou liest. Now will I meet thee, 
 Thou insect warrior, since thou dar'st me thus ! 
 Already I behold thy mangled limbs, 
 Dissever'd each from each, ere long to feed 
 The fierce blood-snuffing vulture. JMark me well, 
 Around my spear I'll twist thy shining locks. 
 And toss in air thy head all gash'd with wounds, 
 Thy lip yet quiv ring with the dire convulsion 
 Of recent death! — Art thou not terrified ? 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 No: 
 True courage is not mov'd by breath of words: 
 While the rash bravery of boiling blood, 
 Impetuous, knows no settled principle. 
 A fev'rish tide, it has its ebbs and flows, 
 As spirits ri?e or fall, as wine inflames, 
 Or circumstances change: But inborn courage, 
 The gen'rous child of Fortitude and Faith, 
 Holds its firm empire in the constant soul; 
 And like the stedfast pole-star, never once 
 From the same fix'd and faithful point declines. 
 
 GOLIATH. 
 
 The curses of Phiiistia's gods be on thee! 
 This fine-drawn speech is meant to lengthen out 
 That life thy words pretend to scorn. 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 Ha! say'st thou so ? Come on then. Mark us well. 
 
88 DAVID AND GOLIATH. 
 
 Thou com'st to me with sword, and spear, ami 
 
 shield ;— 
 In the dread name of Israel's God I come ; 
 The living Lord of Hosts, whom thou dely'st! 
 Yet though no shield I bring, no arms, except 
 These five smooth stones I gather'd from the brook, 
 "With such a simple sling as shepherds use, — 
 Yet all expos'd, defenceless as I am, 
 The God I serve shall give thee up a prey 
 To my victorious arm. This day I mean 
 To make the nncircumcised tribes confess 
 There is a God in Israel. I will give thee, 
 Spite of thy vaunted strength and giant bulk, 
 To glut the carrion kites. Xor thee alone; 
 The mangled carcasses of your thick ho^ts 
 Shall spread the plains of Elah, till Philistia, 
 Through all her trembling tents and flying bands, 
 Shall own that Judah's God is God indeed ! 
 — I dare thee to the trial. 
 
 GOMATH. 
 
 Follow me — 
 In this good spear T trust. 
 
 PAVID. 
 
 I trust in Heav'n ! 
 The God of battle stimulates my arm, 
 And fires my soul with ardour not its nsn, 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 
 
 PART V. 
 
 SCENE— The Tent of Saul. 
 
 saul (rising from his Couch). 
 
 Oh ! that I knew the black and midnight arts 
 
 Of wizard sorcery! that I could call 
 
 The slumb'ring spirit from the shades of hell ! 
 
 Or, like Chaldean sages, could foreknow 
 
 The event of things unacted ! I might then 
 
 Anticipate my fortune. How I'm fallen ! 
 
 The sport of vain chimeras, the weak slave 
 
 Of Fear and Fancy; coveting to know 
 
 The arts obscene, which foul diviners use. 
 
 Thick blood and moping melancholy lead 
 
 To baleful Superstition — that fell fiend, 
 
 Whose with'ring charms blast the fair bloom of virtue. 
 
 Why did my wounded pride, with scorn reject 
 
 The wholesome truths which holy Samuel told me? 
 
 Why drive him from my piesenc^ ? he might now 
 
 Raise my sunk soul, and my benighted mind 
 
 Enlighten with Religion's cheering ray. 
 
 He dar'd to menace me with loss of empire; 
 
 And I, for that bold honesty, dismiss'd him. 
 
 " Another shall possess thy throne," he cried : 
 
 41 A stranger !" This unwelcome prophecy 
 
90 DAVID AND GOLIATH. 
 
 Has lin'd my crown and strew'd my couch with thorns. 
 
 Each ray of op'ning merit I discern 
 
 In friend or foe, distracts my troubled soul, 
 
 Lest he should prove my rival. But this morn, 
 
 Ev'n my young champion, lovely as he look'd 
 
 In blooming valour, struck me to the soul 
 
 With Jealousy's barb'd dart. O Jealousy, 
 
 Thou ugliest fiend of hell I thy deadly venom 
 
 Preys on my vitals, turns the healthful hue 
 
 Of my fresh cheek to haggard sallowness, 
 
 And drinks my spirit up ! 
 
 [A flourish of Trumpets, shouting, fyc. 
 What sounds are thovj : 
 The combat is decided. Hark! again 
 Those shouts proclaim it! Now, O God of Jacob, 
 If yet thou hast not quite withdrawn from Saul 
 Thy light and favour, prosper me this once! 
 But Abner comes ! I dread to hear his tale ! 
 Fair Hope, with smiling face but ling'ring foot, 
 Has long deceiv'd me. 
 
 ABNER. 
 
 King of Israel, hail! 
 Now thou art king indeed. The youth has con- 
 
 quer'd : 
 Goliath's dead. * 
 
 Oh speak thy tale again, 
 Lest my fond ears deceive me ! 
 
 ABWER. 
 
 Thy young champion 
 Has slain the giant. 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 91 
 
 SAUL. 
 
 Then God is gracious still, 
 In spite of my offences! But, good Abner! 
 How was it ? Tell me all. Where is my champion ? 
 Quick let me press him to my grateful heart. 
 And pay him a king's thanks. And yet, who knows, 
 This forward friend may prove an active foe ? 
 No more of that. Tell me the whole, brave Abner! 
 And paint the glorious acts of my young hero ! 
 
 ABXER. 
 
 Full in the centre of the camp they stood ! 
 The opposing armies rang'd on either side 
 In proud array. The haughty giant stalk'd 
 Stately across the valley. Next, the youth 
 With modest confidence advanc'd. Nor pomp, 
 Nor gay parade, nor martial ornament, 
 His graceful form adorn'd. Goliath straight, 
 With solemn state, began the busy work 
 Of dreadful preparation. In one place 
 His closely joined mail an op'ning left 
 For air, and only one : the watchful youth 
 Mark'd that the beaver of his helm was up. 
 Mean while the giant such a blow devis'd 
 As would have crush'd him. This the youth per- 
 
 ceiv'd 
 And from his well-directed sling quick luuTd, 
 With dcxt'rous aim, a stone, which sunk, deep 
 
 lodg'd, 
 In the capacious forehead of the foe. 
 Then with a cry, as loud and terrible 
 As Lybian lions roaring for their young, 
 
92 DAVID AND GOLIATH. 
 
 Quite stunn'd, the furious giant stagger'd, reel'd, 
 
 And fell : the mighty mass of /nan fell prone. 
 
 With its own weight his shatter'd bulk was bruis'd ; 
 
 His clatt'ring arms rung dreadful through the field, 
 
 And the firm basis of the solid earth 
 
 Shook. Chok'd with blood and dust he curs'd his 
 
 gods, 
 And died blaspheming ! Straight the victor youth 
 Drew from its sheath the giant's pond'rous sword, 
 And from the enormous trunk the gory head 
 Furious in death he sever'd. The grim visage 
 Look'd threat'ning still, and still frown'd horribly. 
 
 SAUL. 
 
 O glorious deed ! O valiant conqueror! 
 
 ABNER. 
 
 The youth so calm appear'd, so nobly firm, 
 So cool, yet so intrepid, that these eyes 
 Ne'er saw such temp'rate valour so chastis'd 
 By modesty. 
 
 SAUL. 
 
 Thou dwell'st upon his praise 
 With needless circumstance. Twas nobly done; 
 But others too have fought ! 
 
 ABNER. 
 
 None, none, so bravely. 
 
 SAUL. 
 
 What follow'd next ? 
 
 AB.VER. 
 
 The shouting Israelites 
 On the Philistines rush'd, and still pursued 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 93 
 
 Their routed remnant?. In dismay, their bands 
 Disorder'd fly, while shouts of loud acclaim 
 Pursue their brave deliverer. Lo, he comes ! 
 Bearing the giant's head and shining sword, 
 His Tvell-earn'd trophies. 
 
 Saul, Abxer, David. 
 
 [David bearing Goliath's Head and Sword. Tie 
 
 kneels, and lays both at Saul's Feet.'] 
 
 SALT.. 
 
 Welcome to my heart. 
 My glorious champion ! My deliverer, welcome ! 
 Jlriw shall J speak the swelling gratitude 
 Of my full heart! or give thee the high praise 
 Thy gallant deeds deserve! 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 O mighty king! 
 Sweet is the breath of praise, when giv'n by those 
 Whose own high merit claims the praise they give. 
 But let not this one prosperous event, 
 By Heav'n directed, be ascrib'd to me; 
 I misbt have fought with equal skill and courage. 
 And not have gain'd this conquest ; then had shame, 
 Harsh obloquy, and foul disgrace, befall'n me: 
 But prosperous fortune gains the praise of valour. 
 
 SALL. 
 
 I like not this. In every thing superior 
 He soars above me (Aside.) — Modest youth thou'rt 
 
 right. 
 And fortune, as thou say'st, deserves the praise 
 "We give to human valour. 
 
94 DAVID AND GOLIATH. 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 Rather say 
 The God of Hosts deserves it. 
 
 SAUL. 
 
 Tell me, youth,- 
 Whut is thy name, and what thy father's house ? 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 My name is David ; Jesse is my sire : 
 An humble Bethle'mite of Judah's tribe. 
 
 SAUL. 
 
 David, the son of Jesse! sure that name 
 Has been familiar to me. Nay, thy voice, 
 Thy form, and features, I remember too, 
 Though faint and indistinctly. 
 
 ABNER. 
 
 In this hero 
 Behold thy sweet musician ; he whose harp 
 Expell'd the melancholy fiend, whose pow'r 
 Enslav'd the spirit. 
 
 SAUL. 
 
 This the modest youth 
 Whom, for his skill and virtues, I preferr'd 
 To bear my armour ? 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 I am he, O king! 
 
 SAUL. 
 
 Why this concealment? tell me, valiant David: 
 Why didst thou hide thy birth and name till now; 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 05 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 O king! I would not aught from favour claim, 
 Or on reuiember'd services presume ; 
 But on the strength of my own actions stand, 
 Ungrac'd and unsupported. 
 
 ABNER. 
 
 Well he merits 
 The honours which await him. Why, O king, 
 Dost thou delay to bless his doubting heart 
 With his well-earn'd rewards? Thy lovely daughter, 
 By right of conquest his ! 
 
 SAUL (to DAVID.) 
 
 True: thou hast won her. 
 She shall be thine. Yes, a king's word is past. 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 O boundless blessing! What! sh.ill she be mine, 
 For whom contending monarchs might renounce 
 Their slighted crowns? 
 [Sounds of musical Instruments heard at a distance. 
 
 Shouting and singing. A grand Procession. 
 
 Chorus of Hebrew Women.'] 
 
 SAUL. 
 
 How's this? what sounds of joy 
 Salute my ears? What means this needless pomp? 
 This merry sound of tabret and of harp ? 
 What mean these idle instruments of triumph? 
 These women, who in fair procession move, 
 Making sweet melody ? 
 
 ABNER. 
 
 To pay due honour 
 To David, are they come. 
 
96 DAVID AND GOLIATH. 
 
 saul (aside). 
 
 A rival's praise 
 Is discord to my ear! They might have spar'd 
 This idle pageantry; it wounds my soul! 
 
 [Martial Symphony: after which, Chorus of 
 Women sing. 
 Prepare! your festal rites prepare ! 
 Let your triumphs rend the air ! 
 Idol gods shall reign no more : 
 We the living Lord adore! 
 Let heathen hosts on human helps repose, 
 Since Israel's God has routed Israel's foes. 
 
 Let remotest nations know 
 
 Proud Goliath's overthrow. 
 
 Fall'n Pbilfstia, is thy trust, 
 
 Dagon mingles with the dust ! 
 Who fears the Lord of Glory, need not fear 
 The brazen armour, or the lifted spear. 
 
 See, the routed squadrons fly ! 
 
 Hark ! their clamours rend the sky! 
 
 Blood and carnage stain the field ! 
 
 See, the vanquish'd nations yield ! 
 Dismay and terror fill the frighten'd land, 
 While conq'ring David routs the trembling band, 
 
 Lo! upon the tented field 
 
 Royal Saul has thousands kill'd ! 
 
 Lo! upon th' ensanguin'd plain 
 
 David has ten thousands slain ! 
 Let mighty Saul his vanquish'd thousands tell, 
 While tenfold triumphs David's victories swell. 
 
BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 a ^acwti Drama. 
 
 How art thou fallen from Heaven, O Lucifer, Son of 
 the Morning ! How art thou cut down to the ground, 
 who didst weaken the nations ! isaiah. 
 
PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. 
 
 Belshazzar, King of Babylon. 
 jS t itocris, the Queen-Mother. 
 
 Courtiers, Astrologers, Parasites. 
 
 Daniel, the Jewish Prophet. 
 Captive Jews, £,*c. 8$c. 
 
 SCENE— Babylon. Time— Night. 
 
 The Subject is taken from the Fifth Chapter of thi 
 Prophet Daniel. 
 
BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 SCENE — Near the Palace of Babylon. 
 Daniel and captive Jews. 
 
 Parent of Life and Light! Sole Source of Good! 
 
 Whose tender mercies through the tide of time, 
 
 In long successive order, have sustain'd, 
 
 And sav'd the sons of Israel ! Thou, whose pow'r 
 
 Deliver'd righteous Noah from the flood, 
 
 The whelming flood, the grave of humankind ! 
 
 O thou, whose guardian care and out-stretch'd hand 
 
 Rescu'd young Isaac from the lifted arm, 
 
 Rais'd at thy bidding, to devote a son, 
 
 An only son, doom'd by his sire to die: 
 
 (O saving faith, by such obedience prov'd, 
 
 O blest obedience, hallow'd thus by faith!) 
 
 Thou, who in mercy sav'dst the chosen race 
 
 In the wild desert, and didst there sustain them 
 
 By wonder-working love, though they rebell'd 
 
 And murmur'd at the miracles that sav'd them! 
 
 Ob, hear thy servant Daniel ! hear and help ! 
 
100 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Thou, whose almighty pow'r did after raise 
 Successive leaders to defend our race : 
 Who sentest valiant Joshua to the field, 
 Thy people's champion, to the conqu'ring field, 
 Where the revolving planet of the night, 
 Suspended in her radiant round, was stay'd, 
 And the bright sun, arrested in his course, 
 Stupendously stood still ! 
 
 Choiuts of Jews. 
 
 What ailed thee, that thou stood'st still, 
 O Sun! n >r did thy flaming orb decline? 
 And thou, O Moon ! in Ajalon's low vale, 
 Why didst thou long before thy period shine? 
 
 Was it at Joshua's dread command, 
 The leader of the Israelitish band? 
 Yes — at a mortal bidding both stood still : 
 'Twas Joshua's word, but 'twas Jehovah's will. 
 
 What all-controlling hand had force 
 To stop eternal Nature's constant course ? 
 The wand'ring moon to one fix'd spot confine, 
 But his whose fiat gave them first to shine 
 
 DANIEL. 
 
 O Thou! who, when thy discontented host, 
 Tir'd of Jehovah's rule, desir'd a king, 
 Tn anger gav'st them Saul; and then again 
 Uidst wrest the regal sceptre from his hand 
 To give it David — David best belov'd ! 
 Illustrious David! poet, prophet, king! 
 Thou who didst suffer Solomon, the wise. 
 To build a glorious temple to thy name, — 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 101 
 
 O hear thy servants, and forgive us too ! 
 If by severe necessity compell'd, 
 We worship here — we have no temple now : 
 Altar or sanctuary, none is left. 
 
 Chorus of Jews. 
 O Judah' let thy captive sons deplore 
 
 Thy far-fam'd temple's now no more ! 
 Fall'n is thy sacred fane, thy glory gone ! 
 Fall'n is thy temple, Solomon ! 
 
 Ne'er did Barbaric kings behold, 
 With all their shining gems, their burnish'd gold, 
 
 A fane so perfect, bright, and fair ; 
 For God himself was wont to inhabit there. 
 
 Between the cherubim his glory stood, 
 While the high-priest alone the dazzling splendour 
 view'd. 
 
 How fondly did the Tyrian artist strive 
 
 His name to latest time should live! 
 Such wealth the stranger wonder'd to behold : 
 Gold were the tablets, and the vases gold. 
 
 Of cedar such an ample store, 
 Exhausted Lebanon could yield no more. 
 Bending before the Ruler of the sky, 
 
 Well might the ro\al founder cry, 
 Fill'd with an holy dread, a rev'rend fear, 
 Will God in very deed inhabit here ? 
 
 The heav'n of heav'ns beneath his feet, 
 Is for the bright inhabitant unmeet : 
 
 Archangels prostrate wait his high commands, 
 And will he deign to dwell in temples made with 
 hands ? 
 
102 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 DANIEL. 
 
 Yes, thou art ever present, Pow'r supreme ! 
 Not circurascrib'd by time, nor tix'd to space, 
 Confin'd to altars, nor to temples bound. 
 In wealth, in want, in freedom or in chains, 
 In dungeons, or on thrones, tiie faithful find thee! 
 E'en in the burning cauldron thou wast near 
 To Shadrach and the holy brotherhood: 
 The unhurt martyrs bless'd thee in the flames ; 
 They sought and fouud thee ; call'd, and thou wast 
 there. 
 
 FIRST JEW. 
 
 How chang'd our state! Judah, thy glory's fall'ii, 
 Thy joys for hard captivity exchang'd ; 
 And thy sad sons breathe the polluted air 
 Of Babylon, where deities obscene 
 Insult the living God ; and to his servants, 
 The priests of wretched idols made with hands, 
 Show contumelious scorn. 
 
 DANIEL. 
 
 'Tis Heav'n's high will. 
 
 SECOND JEW. 
 
 If I forget thes?, O Jerusalem! 
 If I not fondly cherish thy lov'd image, 
 E'en in the giddy hour of thoughtless mirth : 
 If I not rather view thy prostrate walls, 
 Than haughty Babylon's imperial tow T 'rs, — 
 Then may my tongue refuse to frame the strains 
 Of sweetest harmony; my rude right hand 
 Forget, with sounds symphonious, to accord 
 The harp of Jesse's son to Sion's songs. 
 
A SACKED DRAMA. 103 
 
 FIRST JEW. 
 
 Oft on Euphrates' ever verdant banks, 
 AVhere drooping willows form a mournful shade, 
 With all the pride which prosp'rous fortunes give, 
 And all the unfeeling mirth of happy men, 
 The insulting Babylonians ask a song ; 
 Such songs as erst in better days were sung, 
 By Korah's sons, or heav'n-taught Asaph set 
 To loftiest measures ; then our bursting hearts 
 Feel all their woes afresh ; the galling chain 
 Of bondage crushes then the free-born soul- 
 With wringing anguish ; from the trembling lip 
 The unfinish'd cadence falls ; and the big tear, 
 While it relieves, betrays the woe-fraught soul. 
 For who can view Euphrates' pleasant stream, 
 Its drooping willows, and its verdant bank;., 
 And not to wounded memory recall 
 The piny groves of fertile Palestine, 
 The vales of Solyma, and Jordan's stream ! 
 
 Firm faith and deep submission to high Heav'n 
 Will teach us to endure, without a murmur, 
 What seems so hard. Think what the holy host 
 Of patriarchs, saints, and prophets have sustain'd, 
 In the blest cause of truth ! And shall not we, 
 O men of Judah, dare what these have dar'd, 
 And boldly pass through the refining fire 
 Of fierce affliction ? Yes, be witness Heav'n ! 
 Old as I am, I will not shrink at death, 
 Come in what shape it may, if God so will, 
 By peril to confirm and prove my faith. 
 
104 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Oh ! I would dare yon den of hungry lions, 
 Rather than pause to fill the task assign'd 
 By Wisdom Infinite. Nor think I boast, 
 Mot in myself, but in thy strength I trust, 
 Spirit of God ! 
 
 FIRST JEW. 
 
 Prophet, thy words support 
 And raise our sinking souls. 
 
 DANIEL. 
 
 Behold yon palace : 
 There proud Belshazzar keeps his wanton court ! 
 I knew it once beneath another lord, 
 His grandsire*, who subdu'd Jehoiachin, 
 And hither brought sad Judah's captive tribes ; 
 And with them brought the rich and precious relics 
 Of our fam'd temple; all the holy treasure, 
 The golden vases, and the sacred cups, 
 Which grac'd, in happier times, the sanctuary. 
 
 SECOND JEW. 
 
 May He, to whose blest use they were devoted, 
 Preserve them from pollution ; and once more, 
 In his own gracious time, restore the temple. 
 
 DANIEL. 
 
 I, with some favour'd youths of Jewish raoe, 
 Was lodg'd in the kings palace, and instructed 
 In all the various learning of the east ; 
 But He, on whose great name our fathers call'd, 
 Preserv'd us from the perils of a court, 
 Warn'd us to guard our youthful appetites, 
 
 * Nebuchadnezzar. 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 105 
 
 And still with holy fortitude reject 
 
 The pamp'ring viands Luxury presented ; 
 
 Fell Luxury ! more perilous to youth 
 
 Than storms or quicksands, poverty or chains. 
 
 SECOND JEW. 
 
 He who can guard 'gainst the low baits of sense* 
 Will find Temptation's arrows hurtless strike 
 Against the brazen shield of Temperance. 
 For 'tis the inferior appetites enthral 
 The man, and quench the immortal light within 
 
 him ; 
 The senses take the soul an easy prey, 
 And sink the imprison'd spirit into brute. 
 
 Twice*, by the Spirit of God, did I expound 
 The visions of the king; his soul was touch'd, 
 And twice did he repent, and prostrate fall 
 Before the God of Daniel: yet again, 
 Pow'r, flatt'ry, and prosperity, undid him, 
 When from the lofty ramparts of his palace 
 He view'd the splendours of the royal city, 
 That magazine of wealth, which proud Euphrate 
 Wafts from each distant corner of the earth ; 
 When he beheld the adamantine tow'rs, 
 The brazen gates, the bulwarks of his strength, 
 The pendant gardens, Art's stupendous work, 
 The wonder of the world ! the proud Chaldean, 
 Alad with the intoxicating fumes which rise, 
 When uncontroll'd ambition grasps at once 
 
 • Daniel ii. and iv. 
 
108 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Dominion absolute and boundless Wealth, 
 
 Forgot he was a man, forgot his God ! 
 
 " This mighty Babylon is mine," he cried ; 
 
 " My wondrous pow'r, my godlike arm achievYi if, 
 
 I scorn'd submission; own no Deity 
 
 Above my own." — While the blasphemer spoke, 
 
 The wrath of Heav'n inflicted instant vengeance: 
 
 Stripp'd him of that bright reason he abus'd, 
 
 And drove him from the cheerful haunts of men, 
 
 A naked, wretched, helpless, senseless thing; 
 
 Companion of the brutes, his equals now. 
 
 FIRST JEW. 
 
 Nor does his impious grandson, proud Belshazzar. 
 Fall short of his offences ; nay, he wauts 
 The valiant spirit and the active soul 
 Of his progenitor; for Pleasure's slave, 
 Though bound in silken chains, and only tied 
 In' flowery fetters, seeming light and loose, 
 Is more subdu'd than the rash casual victim 
 Of Anger or Ambition ; these indeed 
 Burn with a fiercer but a short-liv'd fire; 
 While Pleasure with a constant flame consumes. 
 War slays her thousands, but destructive Pleasure, 
 More fell, more fatal, her ten thousands slays : 
 The young luxurious king she fondly wooes 
 In ev'ry shape of w anton blandishment ; 
 With adulation smooth ensnares his soul ; 
 With love betrays him, and with wine inflamr?. 
 She strews her magic poppies o'er his cougIi, 
 And with delicious opiates charms him down. 
 In fatal slumbers bound. Though Babylon 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 107 
 
 Is now invested by the warlike troops 
 Of royal Cyrus, Persia's valiant prince; 
 Who, in conjunction w ith the Median king, 
 Darius, fam'd for conquest, now prepares 
 To storm the city: not the impending horrors, 
 Which ever wait a siege, have pow'r to wake, 
 To thought or sense, the intoxicated king. 
 
 E'en in this night of universal dread, 
 A mighty army threat'ning at the gates; 
 This very night, as if in scorn of danger, 
 The dissolute Belshazzar holds a feast 
 Magnificently impious, meant to honour 
 Belus, the favourite Babylonish idol. 
 Lewd parasites compose his wanton court, 
 Whose impious flatt'ries sooth his monsiroi 
 
 crimes: 
 They justify his vices and extol 
 His boastful phrase, as if he were some god. 
 Whate'er he says, they say; what he commands. 
 Implicitly they do; they echo back 
 His blasphemies with shouts of loud acclaim ; 
 And when he wounds the tortur'd ear of Virtue, 
 They cry — " All hail ! Belshazzar live for ever !" 
 To-night a thousand nobles fill his hall, 
 Princes, and all the dames who grace the court : 
 All but his virtuous mother, sage Nitocris ; 
 Ah ! how unlike the impious king her son ! 
 She never mingles in the midnight fray, 
 Nor crowns the guilty banquet with her presence. 
 
108 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 The royal fair is rich in ev'ry virtue 
 
 Which can adorn the queen or grace the woman. 
 
 But for the wisdom of her prudent counsels 
 
 This wretched empire had been long undone. 
 
 Not fam'd Semiramis, Assyria's pride, 
 
 Could boast a brighter mind or firmer soul ; 
 
 Beneath the gentle reign of Merodach*, 
 
 Her royal lord, our nation tasted peace. 
 
 Our captive monarch, sad Jehoiachin, 
 
 Grown grey in a close prison's horrid gloom, 
 
 He freed from bondage ; brought the hoary king 
 
 To taste once more the long-forgotten sweets 
 
 Of liberty and light, sustain'd his age, 
 
 Pour'd in his wounds the lenient balm of kindness, 
 
 And bless'd his setting hour of life with peace. 
 
 [Sound of Trumpets is heard at a distance. 
 
 FIRST JEW. 
 
 That sound proclaims the banquet is begun. 
 
 SECOND JEW. 
 
 Hark ! the licentious uproar grows more loud, 
 The vaulted roof resounds with shouts of mirth, 
 And the firm palace shakes ! Retire, my friends! 
 This madness is not meet for sober ears. 
 If any of our race were found so near, 
 'Twould but expose us to the rude attack 
 Of ribaldry obscene, aud impious jests, 
 From these mad sons of Belial, more inflam'd 
 To deeds of riot by the wanton feast. 
 
 « 2 Kings xxv. 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 109 
 
 Here part we then ! but when again to meet, 
 Who knows, save Heav'n? Yet, O my friends! I 
 
 feel 
 An impulse more than human stir my breast : 
 Rapt in prophetic vision*, I behold 
 Things hid as yet from mortal sight. I see 
 The dart of Vengeance tremble in the air, 
 Ere long to pierce the impious king. E'en now 
 The desolating Angel stalks ahroad, 
 And brandishes aloft the two-edg'd sword 
 Of retribution keen ; he soon will strike, 
 And Babylon shall weep as Sion wept. 
 Pass but a little while, and you shall see 
 This queen of cities prostrate on the earth, 
 This haughty mistress of the kneeling world, 
 How shall she sit dishonour'd in the dust, 
 In tarnish'd pomp and solitary woe! 
 How shall she shroud her glories in the dark, 
 And in opprobrious silence hide her head ! 
 Lament, O virgin daughter of Chaldea! 
 For thou shalt fall! imperial queen, shalt fall ! 
 No more Sidonian robes shall grace thy limbs. 
 To purple garments sackcloth shall succeed ; 
 And sordid dust and ashes shall supply 
 The od'rous nard and cassia. Thou, who said'st 
 I am, and there is none beside me : thou, 
 E'en thou, imperial Bab\lon, shalt fall ! 
 Thy glory quite eclipsd ! The pleasant sound 
 Of viol and of harp shall charm no more; 
 
 * See the Prophecies of Isaiab, chap, slvii. and others. 
 
110 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Nor song of Syrian damsels shall be heard, 
 Responsive, to the lute's luxurious note: 
 But the loud bittern's cry, the raven's croak, 
 The bat's fell scream, the lonely owl's dull plaint, 
 And ev'ry hideous bird, with ominous shriek, 
 Shall scare affrighted Silence from thy walls : 
 While Desolation, snatching from the hand 
 Of Time the scythe of ruin, sits aloft, 
 Or stalks in dreadful majesty abroad. 
 I see the exterminating fiend advance; 
 Ev'n now I see her glare with horrid joy ; 
 See tow'rs imperial mould'ring at her touch; 
 She glances on the broken battlement ; 
 She eyes the crumbling column, and enjoys 
 The work of ages prostrate in the dust: — 
 Then, pointing to the mischief she has made, 
 Exulting cries, — This once was Babylon! 
 
 PART II. 
 
 SCENE— The Court of Belshazzar. The Kixg 
 seated on a magnificent Throne. Princes, Nobles, 
 and Attendants. Ladies of the Court. Music — 
 A superb Banquet. 
 
 tirst courtier (rises and kneels J. 
 Hail-, mighty king! 
 
 SECOND COURTItiR. 
 
 Belshazzar, live for ever! 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. Ill 
 
 TniRD COURTIER. 
 
 Sun of the world, and light of kings, all hail ! 
 
 FOURTH COURTIER. 
 
 With lowly rev'rence, such as best becomes 
 The humblest creatures of imperial power, 
 Behold a thousand nobles bend before thee ! 
 Princes far-fam'd, and dames of high descent ! 
 Yet all this pride of wealth, this boast of beauty, 
 Shrinks into nought before thine awful eye! 
 And lives or dies, as the king frowns or smiles ! 
 
 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 This is such homage as becomes your love, 
 And suits the mighty monarch of mankind. 
 
 FIFTH COURTIER. 
 
 The bending 'world should prostrate thus before 
 thee ; 
 And pay not only praise but adoration ! 
 
 iielshazzar (rises and comes forward). 
 Let dull Philosophy preach self-denial ; 
 Let envious Poverty and snarling Age 
 Proudly declaim against the joys they know n;;t. 
 Let the delnded Jews, who fondly hope 
 Some fancied heav'n hereafter, mortify, 
 And lose the actual blessings of this world 
 To purchase others which may never come. 
 Our gods may promise less, but give us raoiv. 
 Ill could my ardent spirit be content 
 With meagre abstinence and hungry hope. 
 Let those misjudging Israelites, who want 
 The nimble spirits and the active soul, 
 
112 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Call their Wunt feelings virtue: let them drudge, 
 In regular progression, through the round 
 Of formal duty and of daily toil ; 
 And, when they want the genius to be happy, 
 Believe their harsh austerity is goodness. 
 If there be gods, they meant we should enjoy: 
 Why give us else these tastes and appetites? 
 And why the means to crown them with indul- 
 gence ? 
 To burst the feeble bonds which hold the vulgar, 
 Is noble daring. 
 
 FIRST COURTIER. 
 
 And is therefore worthy 
 The high imperial spirit of Belshazzar. 
 
 SECOND COURTIER. 
 
 Behold a banquet, which the gods might share ? 
 
 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 To-night, my friends, your monarch shall be blest 
 With ev'ry various joy ; to-night is ours ; 
 Nor shall the envious gods, who view our bliss, 
 And sicken as they view, to-night disturb us. 
 Bring all the richest spices of the east; 
 The od'rous cassia and the drooping myrrh, 
 The liquid amber and the fragrant gums, 
 Rob Gilead of its balms, Belshazzar bids; 
 And leave the Arabian groves without an odour. 
 Bring freshest flow'rs, exhaust the blooming spring, 
 Twine the green myrtle with the short-liv'd rose ; 
 And ever, as the blushing garland fades, 
 We'll learn to snatch the fugitive delight, 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 113 
 
 And grasp the flying joy ere it escape us. 
 Come — fill the smiling goblet for the king ; 
 Belshazzar will not let a moment pass 
 Unmark'd by some enjoyment! The full bowl 
 Let every guest partake ! 
 
 [Courtiers kneel and drink. 
 
 FIRST COtRTIER. 
 
 Here's to the king! 
 Light of the world, and glory of the earth, 
 Whose word is fate! 
 
 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Yes ; we are likest god; 
 
 When we have pow'r, and use it. What is wealth 
 
 But the rich means to gratify desire ? 
 
 I will not have a wish, a hope, a thought, 
 
 That shall not know fruition. What is empire ? 
 
 The privilege to punish and enjoy ; 
 
 To feel our pow'r in making others fear it ; 
 
 To taste of Pleasure's cup till we srow siddy, 
 
 And think ourselves immortal ! This is empire ! 
 
 My ancestors scarce tasted of its jons: 
 
 Shut from the sprightly world and all its charms, 
 
 In cumbrous majesty, in sullen state, 
 
 And dull unsocial dignity they liv'd ; 
 
 Far from the sight of an admiring world, 
 
 That world, whose gaze makes half the charms of 
 
 greatness; 
 They nothing knew of empire but the name, 
 Or saw it in the looks of trembling slaves; 
 And all they felt of royalty was care. 
 But I will see and know it of myself; 
 
114 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Youth, Wealth, and Greatness, court me to be blest ; 
 
 And Pow'r and Pleasure draw with equal force 
 
 And sweet attraction: both I will embrace 
 
 In quick succession ; this is Pleasure's day; 
 
 Ambition will have time to reign hereafter ; 
 
 It is the proper appetite of age. 
 
 The lust of Power shall lord it uncontroll'd, 
 
 "When all the gen'rous feelings grow obtuse, 
 
 And stern Dominion holds, with rigid hand, 
 
 His iron rein, and sits and sways alone. 
 
 But youth is Pleasure's hour! 
 
 FIUST COURTIER. 
 
 Perish the slave 
 Who, with officious counsel, would oppose 
 The king's desire, whose slightest wish is law ! 
 
 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Now strike the loud-ton'd lyre and softer lute ; 
 Let me have music, with the nobler aid 
 Of poesy. Where are those cunning men 
 Who boast, by chosen sounds and measur'd sweet- 
 ness, 
 To set the busy spirits in a flame, 
 And cool them at their will ? who know the ari 
 To call the hidden pow'rs of numbers forth, 
 And make that pliant instrument, the Mind, 
 Yield to the pow rful sympathy of sound, 
 Obedient to the master's artful hand ? 
 Such magic is in song! Then give me song; 
 Yet not at first such soul-dissolving strains 
 As melt the soften'd sense; but such bold measures 
 As may inflame my spirit to despise 
 
A SACKED DRAMA. 1 [." 
 
 The ambitious Persian : that presumptuous boy, 
 Who rashly dares e'en now invest our city, 
 And menaces the invincible Belshazzar. 
 
 [A grand Concert of 3Iusic, after which an Ode. 
 
 In vain shall Persian Cyrus dare 
 With great Belshazzar wage unequal war: 
 
 In vain Darius shall combine, 
 Darius leader of the Median line ; 
 While fair Euphrates' stream our wall protects. 
 And great Belshazzar's self our fate directs. 
 
 War and famine threat in vain, 
 
 While this demi-god shall reign ! 
 Let Persia's prostrate king confess his pow'r, 
 And Media's monarch dread his vengeful hour. 
 
 On Dura's* ample plain behold 
 Immortal Belust, whom the nations own; 
 Sublime he stands in burnish 'd gold, 
 And richest offerings his bright altars crown. 
 To-night his deity we here adore, 
 .And due libations speak his mighty powV. 
 
 Yet Belus' self not more we own 
 Than great Belshazzar on Chaldea's throne. 
 
 * Dauiel iii. 
 
 t See a very fine description of the Temple of this Iilo!. 
 
 The ton ring fane 
 
 Of tJel, Chaldean Jove, surpassing far 
 
 Th;tt Doric Temple, which the Elean chiefs 
 
 Rais'd to their thunder from the spoils of war; 
 
 Or that louic, where the Epiiesian bow'd 
 
 To Dian, queen of beav'n. Eight towers arise, 
 
 Each above each, immeasurable height, 
 
 A monument at once of eastern pride, 
 
 And slavish superstition, &e. Judah Restored. 
 
116 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Great Belshazzar, like a god, 
 
 Rules the nations with a nod! 
 To great Belshazzar be the goblet crown'd! 
 Belshazzar's name the echoing roofs rebound ! 
 
 belsh^zar. 
 
 Enough! the kindling rapture fires my brain, 
 And my heart dances to the flatt ring sounds. 
 I feel myself a god ! Why not a god ? 
 What were the deities our fathers worshipp'd ? 
 W r hat was great Nimrod, our imperial founder? 
 What greater Belus, to whose pow'r divine 
 We raise to-night the banquet and the song; 
 But youthful heroes, mortal, like myself, 
 Who by their daring earn'd divinity? 
 They were but men: nay, some were less than men, 
 Though now rever'd as gods. What was Anubis, 
 Whom Egypt's sapient sons adore ? A dog ! 
 And shall not 1, young, valiant, and a king, 
 Dare more? do more? exceed the boldest flights 
 Of my progenitors? — Fill me more wine, 
 To cherish and exalt the young idea! (He drinks) 
 Ne'er did Olympian Jupiter himself 
 Quaff such immortal draughts. 
 
 FIKST COURTIER. 
 
 What could that Canaan, 
 That heaven in hope, that nothing in possession, 
 That air-built bliss of the deluded Jews, 
 That promis'd land of milk and flowing honey ; 
 What could that fancy'd Paradise bestow 
 To match these generous juices? 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 117 
 
 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Hold — enough ! 
 Thou hast rous'd a thought. By Heav'n, I will 
 
 enjoy it : 
 A glorious thought! which will exalt to rapture 
 The pleasures of the banquet, and bestow 
 A yet untasted relish of delight. 
 
 FIRST COURTIER. 
 
 What means the king ? 
 
 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 The Jews ? said'st thou the Jews ? 
 
 FTRST COURTIER. 
 
 I spoke of that undone, that outcast people, 
 Those tributary creatures of thy pow r, 
 The captives of thy will, whose very breath 
 Hangs on the sovereign pleasure of the king. 
 
 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 "When that abandon'd race was hither brought, 
 Were not the choicest treasures of their temple 
 (Devoted to their God, and held most precious), 
 Among the spoils which grac'd Xebassar's* tri- 
 umph, 
 And lodg'd in Babylon ? 
 
 FIRST COURTIER. 
 
 O king ! they were. 
 
 SECOND COURTIER. 
 
 The Jews, with superstitious awe, behold 
 
 * Tbe name of Nebuchadnezzar not being reducible to 
 verse, I have adopted that of Nebassar, on the authority of 
 the ingenious and learned author of Judah Restored. 
 
118 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 These sacred symbols of their ancient faith: 
 
 Nor has captivity abated aught 
 
 The rev'rend love they bear these holy relics. 
 
 Though we deride their law, and scorn their persons 
 
 Yet never have we yet to human use 
 
 Devoted these rich vessels, eet apart 
 
 To sacred purposes. 
 
 BELSTIAZZAR. 
 
 T joy to hear it! 
 Go — fetch them hither. They shall grace our ban- 
 quet. 
 Does no one stir? Belshazzar disobey'd! 
 And yet you live ? "Whence comes this strange re- 
 luctance ? 
 This new-born rev'rence for the helpless Jews ? 
 This fear to injure those who can't revenge it ? 
 Send to the sacred treasury in haste, 
 Let all be hither brought; — who answers dies. 
 
 [They go out. 
 The mantling wine a higher joy will yield, 
 Pour'd from the precious flaggons which adorn'd 
 Their far-fam'd temple, now in ashes laid. 
 Oh! 'twill exalt the pleasure into transport, 
 To gall those whining, praying Israelites! 
 I laugh to think what wild dismay will seize them, 
 When they shall learn the use that has been made 
 Of all their holy trumpery ! 
 
 [The Vessels are brougld in. 
 
 SECOND COURTIER. 
 
 It comes; 
 A goodly show ! how bright with gold and gens! 
 
A SACREDDRAMA. I 13 
 
 Far titter for a youthful monarch's board 
 Thau the cold shrine of an unheeding God. 
 
 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Fill me that massy goblet to the brim. 
 
 Now, Abraham ! let thy wretched race expect 
 
 The fable of their faith to be felfitl'd; 
 
 Their second temple and their promisd king; 
 
 Now will they see the God they vainly serve 
 
 Is impotent to help ; for had he pow'r 
 
 To hear and grant their prajrr, he would prevent 
 
 This profanation. 
 
 [As the Kins: U going to drink, Thundir is heard ; 
 lie starts from the Throne, spies a Hand, which 
 writes on the Wall these Jl'ords, mene, men::, 
 TEKEL, upharsin. He lets fall the Gohhi, 
 and stands in an Attitude of speechless Horror. 
 All start and seem terrified.'] 
 
 first courtier (after a loiig Pause j. 
 Oh, transcendant horror! 
 
 SECOND COURTIER. 
 
 'What may this mean? The king is greatly move ! 
 
 THIRD COURTIER. 
 
 Nor is it strange — who unappall'd can view it? 
 Those sacred cups! I doubt we've gone too far ! 
 
 FIRST COURTIER. 
 
 Observe the fear-struck king! his starting eyes 
 Roll horribly. Thrice he essav'd to .-peak, 
 And thrice his tongue refus'd. 
 
 celshazzar (in a lowhembling Voice). 
 
 Ye mystic word ! 
 
120 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Thou semblance of an hand ! illusive fonns! 
 
 Ye wild fantastic images! what are ye? 
 
 Dread shadows, speak! Explain your dark intent! 
 
 Ye will not answer me — Alas ! I feel 
 
 I am a mortal now — My failing limbs 
 
 Refuse to bear me up. I am no god! 
 
 Gods do not tremble thus — Support me, hold me! 
 
 These loosen'd joints, these knees which smite each 
 
 other, 
 Betray I'm but a man — a weak one too ! 
 
 FIRST COURTIER. 
 
 In truth 'tis passing strange, and full of horror? 
 
 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Send for the learn'd magicians, every sage 
 Who deals in wizard spells and magic charms. 
 
 [Some go out. 
 
 FIRST COURTIER. 
 
 How fares my lord the king ? 
 
 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Am I a king ? 
 What pow'r have I ? Ye lying slaves, I am not. 
 Oh, soul-distracting sight! but is it real? 
 Perhaps 'tis fancy all, or the wild dream 
 Of mad distemperature, the fumes of wine ! 
 I'll look upon't no more! — So — now I'm well! 
 I am a king again, and know not fear: 
 And yet my eyes will seek that fatal spot, 
 And fondly dwell upon the sight that blasts them! 
 Again, 'tis there! it is not Fancy's work, 
 I see it still ! 'tis written on the wall ! 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 121 
 
 T see the writing, but the viewless writer, 
 Who? what is he? Oh, horror! horror! horror! 
 It cannot be the God of these poor Jews; 
 For what is he, that he can thus afflict ? 
 
 SECOND COURTIER. 
 
 Let not my lord the king be thus dismay'd. 
 
 THIRD COCRTIER. 
 
 Let not a phantom, an illusive shade, 
 Disturb the peace of him who rules the world. 
 
 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 No more, ye wretched sycophants ! no more ! 
 The sweetest note which flatfry now can strike, 
 Harsh and discordant grates upon my soul. 
 Talk not of pow'r to one so full of fear, 
 So weak, so impotent ! Look on that wall; 
 If thou wouldst sooth my soul, explain the writing, 
 And thou shalt be my oracle, my god! 
 Oh, tell me whence it came, and what it means, 
 And I'll believe I am again a king ! 
 Friends! princes! ease my troubled breast, and say, 
 What do the mystic characters portend ? 
 
 FIRST COURTIER. 
 
 'Tis not in us, O king, to ease thy spirit, 
 We are not skilfd in those mysterious arts 
 Which wait the midnight studies of the sage: 
 But of the deep diviners thou shalt learn, 
 The wise astrologers, the sage magicians, 
 Who, of events unborn, take secret note, 
 And hold deep commerce with the unseen world. 
 
122 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Enter Astrologers, Magicians, &jc. §c. 
 
 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Approach, ye sages, 'tis the king commands! 
 
 [ They kneel. 
 
 ASTROLOGERS. 
 
 Hail, mighty king of Babylon ! 
 
 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Nay, rise : 
 I do no* need your homage, but your help ; 
 The world may worship, you must counsel me. 
 He who declares the secret of the king, 
 No common honours shall await his skill ; 
 Our empire shall be tax'd for his reward, 
 And he himself shall name the gift he wishes. 
 A splendid scarlet robe shall grace his limbs, 
 His neck a princely chain of gold adorn: 
 Meet honours for such wisdom: he shall rule 
 The third in rank throughout our Babylon. 
 
 SECOND ASTROLOGER. 
 
 Such recompense becomes Belshazzar's bounty. 
 Let the king speak the secret of his soul ; 
 Which heard, his humble creatures shall unfold. 
 
 belshazzar (points to the Wall). 
 
 Be't so — look there — behold those characters! 
 Nay, do not start, for I well know their meaning ! 
 Ha! answer; speak, or instant death awaits you ! 
 What, dumb ! all dumb ! where is your boasted 
 skill ? [ They confer together. 
 
 Keep them asunder — no confederacy — 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 123 
 
 No secret plots to make your t:iles agree. 
 Speak, slaves, and dare to let me know the worst ! 
 
 [They kneel. 
 
 FIRST ASTROLOGER. 
 
 Oh, let the king forgive his faithful servants! 
 
 SECOND ASTROLOGER. 
 
 Oh, mitigate our threaten'd doom of death; 
 If we declare, with mingled grief and shame, 
 We cannot tell the secret of the king, 
 Nor what these mystic characters portend ! 
 
 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Off with their heads ! Ye shall not live an hour ! 
 Curse on your shallow arts, your lying science! 
 Tis thus you practice on the credulous world, 
 Who think you wise because themselves are weak ! 
 But, miscreants, ye shall die ! the pow'r to punish 
 Is all that I have left me of a king. 
 
 FIRST COURTIER. 
 
 Great sire, suspend their punishment awhile, 
 Behold Nitocris comes, thy royal mother ! 
 
 Enter Nitocris. 
 
 A'lTOCKIS. 
 
 O my misguided son ! 
 Well may'st thou wonder to behold me here: 
 For I have ever shunn'd this scene of riot, 
 Where wild intemperance and dishonour' d mirth 
 Hold festival impure. Yet, O Belshazzar ! 
 I could not hear the wondeis which befel, 
 
124 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 And leave thee to the workings of despair : 
 For, spite of all the anguish of ray soul 
 At thy offences, I'm thy mother still ! 
 Against the solemn purpose I had form'd 
 Never to mix in this unhallow'd crowd, 
 The wondrous story of the mystic writing, 
 Of strange and awful import, brings me here; 
 If haply I may show some likely means 
 To fathom this dark mystery. 
 
 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Speak, O queen 
 My listening soul shall hang upon thy words, 
 And prompt obedience follow them ! 
 
 NITOCRIS. 
 
 Then hear me. 
 Among the captive tribes which hither came 
 To grace Nebassar's triumph, there was brought 
 A youth nam'd Daniel, favour d by high Heav'n 
 With pow'r to look into the secret page 
 Of dim Futurity's mysterious volume. 
 The spirit of the holy gods is in him ; 
 No vision so obscure, so deeply hid, 
 No sentence so perptex'd, but he can solve it: 
 He can unfold the dark decrees of Fate, 
 Can trace each crooked labyrinth of thought, 
 Each winding maze of doubt, and make it clear 
 And palpable to sense. He twice explain'd 
 The monarch's mystic dreams. The holy seer 
 Saw, with prophetic spirit, what befel 
 The king long after. For his wondrous skill 
 He was rewarded, honour'd, and caress'd, 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 125 
 
 And with the rulers of Chaldea rank'd : 
 Though now, alas ! thrown by, his services 
 Forgotten or neglected. 
 
 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Send with speed 
 A message, to command the holy man 
 To meet us on the instant. 
 
 NITOCRIS. 
 
 I already 
 Have sent to ask his presence at the palace ; 
 And, lo ! in happy season, see he comes. 
 
 Enter Daniel. 
 
 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Welcome, thrice venerable sage ! approach. 
 Art thou that Daniel whom my great forefather 
 Brought hither with the captive tribes of Judah? 
 
 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Then pardon, holy prophet 
 Nor let a just resentment of thy wrongs, 
 And long neglected merit, shut thy heart 
 Against a king's request, a suppliant king. 
 
 DANrEL. 
 
 The God I worship teaches to forgive. 
 
 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Then let thy words bring comfort to my soul, 
 I've heard the spirit of the gods is in thee; 
 
126 BELSHAZZAR* 
 
 That thou canst look into the fates of men, 
 With prescience more than human '. 
 
 Hold, O king! 
 Wisdom is from above ; 'tis God's own gift; 
 I of myself am nothing ; but from him, 
 The little knowledge I possess, I hold: 
 To^hira be all the glory! 
 
 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Then, O Daniel ! 
 If thou indeed dost boast that wondrous gift, 
 That faculty divine; look there, and tell me! 
 O say, what mean those mystic characters? 
 Remove this load of terror from my soul, 
 And honours, such as kings can give, await thee. 
 Thou shalt be great beyond thy soul's ambition, 
 And rich above thy wildest dream of wealth: 
 Clad in the scarlet robe our nobles wear, 
 And grac'd with princely ensigns, thou shalt stand 
 Near our own throne, and third within our empire. 
 
 DAXIEL. 
 
 O mighty king, thy gifts with thee remain, 
 And let thy high rewards on others fall. 
 The princely ensign, nor the scarlet robe, 
 Nor yet to be the third within thy realm, 
 Can touch the ?oul of Daniel. Honour, fame, 
 All that the world calls great, thy crown itself, 
 Could never satisfy the vast ambition 
 Of an immortal spirit; I aspire 
 Be) ond thy pow'r of giving ; my high hopes 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 127 
 
 Reach also to a crown — but 'tis a crown 
 Unfading and eternal. 
 
 FIRST COURTIER. 
 
 Wondrous man! 
 Our priests teach no such notions. 
 
 DANIEL. 
 
 Yet, O king ! 
 Though all unmov'd by grandeur or by «;ift, 
 I will unfold the high decrees of Heav'n, 
 And straight declare the mystery. 
 
 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Speak, O prophet ! 
 
 DANIEL. 
 
 Prepare to hear what kings have seldom heard ; 
 Prepare to hear what courtiers seldom tell; 
 Prepare to hear — the truth. The mighty God, 
 Who rules the sceptres and the hearts of kings, 
 Gave thy renown'd forefather* here to reign, 
 With such extent of empire, weight of pow'r, 
 And greatness of dominion, the wide earth 
 Trembled beneath the terror of his name, 
 And kingdoms stood or fell as he decreed. 
 Oh! dangerous pinnacle of pow'r supreme! 
 W r ho can stand safe upon its treach'rous top, 
 Behold the gazing prostrate world below, 
 Whom depth and distance into pigmies shrink, 
 And not grow giddy? Babylon's great king 
 Forgot he was a man, a helpless man, 
 
 ♦ Nebuchadnezzar. 
 
128 BELSHAZZAIt. 
 
 Subject to pain, and sin, and death, like others! 
 But who shall fight against Omnipotence? 
 Or, who hath harden'd his obdurate heart 
 Against the Majesty of Heav'n, and prosper'd ? 
 The God he had insulted was aveng'd ; 
 From empire, from the joys of social life, 
 He drove him forth ; extinguish'd reason's lamp ; 
 Quench'd that bright spark of deity within ; 
 Compell'd him with the forest brutes to roam 
 For scanty pasture ; and the mountain dews 
 Fell, cold and wet, on his defenceless head, 
 Till he confess'd — Let men, let monarchs hear ! 
 Till he confess'd, pride was not made for maw 
 
 NITOCRIS. 
 
 Oh, awful instance of divine displeasure! 
 
 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Proceed ! my soul is rapt in fix'd attention ! 
 
 O king ! thy grandsire not in vain had sinn'd, 
 If, from his error, thou hadst learnt the truth. 
 The story of his fall thou oft hast heard, 
 But has it taught thee wisdom ? Thou, like him, 
 Hast been elate with pow'r and mad with pride. 
 Like him, thou hast defy"d the living God. 
 Nay, to bold thoughts hast added deeds more bold. 
 Thou hast outwrought the pattern he bequeath d 
 
 thee, 
 And quite outgone example; hast profan'd, 
 With impious hand, the vessels of the temple: 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 129 
 
 Those vessels sanctified to holiest use, 
 Thou hast polluted with unhallow'd lips, 
 And made the instruments of foul debauch. 
 Thou hast ador'd the gods of wood and stone, 
 Vile, senseless deities, the work of hands, 
 But HE, the KiNt; of KiNr.s, and Lord op 
 
 LORDS, 
 
 111 whom exists thy life, thy soul, thy breath, 
 On whom thy being hangs, thou hast deny'd. 
 
 first courtier (aside to the others). 
 With what an holy boldness he reproves him ! 
 
 SECOND COURTIER. 
 
 Such is the fearless confidence of virtue! 
 And such the righteous courage those maintain 
 Who plead the cause of truth ! The smallest word 
 He utters had been death to half the court. 
 
 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Now let the mystic writing be explain'd, 
 Thrice venerable sage ! 
 
 DANIEL. 
 
 O mighty king! 
 Hear then its awful import : Heav'n has numbcr'il 
 Thy days of royalty, and soon will end them. 
 Our God has weigh' d thee in the even balance 
 Of his own holy law, and finds thee wanting: 
 And last, thy kingdom shall be wrested from thee ; 
 And know, the Mede and Persian shall possess it. 
 
 BELSHAZZAR (starts lip). 
 
 Prophet, when shall this be ? 
 
130 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 DANIEL. 
 
 Jn God's own time: 
 Here my commission ends ; I may not utter 
 More than thou'st heard; but oh! remember, king, 
 Thy days are numb: r'd : hear, repent, and live! 
 
 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Say, prophet, what can penitence avail, 
 If Heav'n's decrees immutably are fix'd ? 
 Can pray'rs avert our fate ? 
 
 DA MEL. 
 
 They change our hearts, 
 And thus dispose Omnipotence to mercy. 
 'Tis man that alters ; God is still the same. 
 Conditional are all Heav'n's covenants : 
 And when the uplifted thunder is withheld, 
 ? Tis pray'r that deprecates the impending bolt. 
 Good Hezekiah's* days were number' d too: 
 But penitence and faith were mighty pleas: 
 At Mercy's throne they never plead in vain. 
 
 [ He is going . 
 
 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Stay, prophet, and receive thy promis'd gift; 
 The scarlet robe and princely chain are thine ; 
 And let my heralds publish through the land 
 That Daniel stands, in dignity and pow'r, 
 The third in Babylon. These just rewards 
 Thou well may st claim, though sad thy prophecy ! 
 
 NITOCRIS. 
 
 Be not deceiv'd, my son ! nor let thy soul 
 • 2Chrou. xxxiii. Isaiah xxxviii. 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 131 
 
 Snatch an uncertain moment's treach'rous rest, 
 On the dread brink of that tremendous gulf 
 Which yawns beneath thee. 
 
 DAMEL. 
 
 O unhappy king ! 
 Know what must happen once, may happen soon. 
 Remember that 'tis terrible to meet 
 Great evils unprepar'd! and, O Belshazzar! 
 In the wild moment of dismay and death, 
 Remember thou wast Tvarn'd! and, oh remember, 
 Warnings despis'd are condemnations then ! 
 
 [Exeunt Daniel and Nitocris. 
 
 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Tis well — my soul shakes off its load of care: 
 'Tis only the obscure is terrible. 
 Imagination frames events unknown, 
 In wild fantastic shapes of hideous ruin ; 
 And what it fears, creates! — I know the worst ! 
 And awful is that worst as fear could feign: 
 But distant are the ills I have to dread ! 
 What is remote may be uncertain too ! 
 Ha ! princes ! hope breaks in ! — This may not be. 
 
 FIRST COURTIER. 
 
 Perhaps this Daniel is in league with Persia ; 
 And brib'd by Cyrus to report these horrors, 
 To weaken and impede the mighty plans 
 Of thy imperial mind ! 
 
 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 'Tis very like. 
 
132 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 SECOND COURTIER. 
 
 Return we to the banquet ? 
 
 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Dare we venture ? 
 
 THIRD COURTIER. 
 
 Let not this dreaming seer disturb the king. 
 Against the power of Cyrus and the Mede, 
 Is Babylon secure. Her brazen gates 
 Mock all attempts to force them. Proud Euphrates, 
 A watery bulwark, guards our ample city 
 From all assailants. And within the walls 
 Of this stupendous capital are lodg'd 
 Such vast provisions, such exhaustless stores, 
 As a twice ten years' siege could never waste. 
 
 belshazzar (embraces him). 
 My better genius ! Safe in such resources, 
 I mock the prophet. — Turn we to the banquet ! 
 
 I As they are going to resume their Places at the 
 Banquet, a dreadful Uproar is heard, tumultuous 
 Cries and warlike Sounds. All stand terrified. 
 Enter Soldiers, with their Stvords draivn, and 
 wounded.~\ 
 
 SOLDIER. 
 
 Oh, helpless Babylon! Oh, wretched king! 
 Chaldea is no more ! the Mede has conquer'd ! 
 The victor, Cyrus, like a mighty torrent, 
 Comes rushing on, and marks his way with ruin ! 
 Destruction is at hand ; escape, or perish 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 133 
 
 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Impossible! Villain and slave, thou ly'sl ! 
 Euphrates and the brazen gates secure us. 
 "While those remain, Belshazzar laughs at danger! 
 
 SOLDIER. 
 
 Euphrates is diverted from its course! 
 
 The brazen gates are burst, the city's taken, 
 
 Thyself a pris'ner, and thy empire lost. 
 
 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Oh, prophet ! I remember thee indeed ! 
 [He runs out. Tkcy follow in the utmost Confusion. 
 
 Enter several Jews, AIldes, and BABYLONIANS. 
 
 FIRST JEW. 
 
 He comes, he comes ! the long-predicted prince, 
 Cyrus ! the destin'd instrument of Ileav'n, 
 To free our captive nation, and restore 
 Jehovah's temple. Carnage marks his way, 
 And conquest sits upon his plume-crow n'd helm! 
 
 second jew. 
 What noise is that? 
 
 FIRST JEW. 
 
 Hark! 'tis Bebhazzar's voice ! 
 
 BELSHAZZAR (icitllOUt). 
 
 O soldier, spare my life, and aid my flight ! 
 Such treasures shall reward the gentle deed 
 As Persia never saw. I'll be thy slave; 
 
134 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 I'll yield my crown to Cyrus ; I'll adore 
 
 His gods and thine ; I'll kneel, and kiss thy feet, 
 
 .And worship thee. — It is not much I ask — 
 
 I'll live in bondage, beggary, and pain, 
 
 So thou but let me live. 
 
 SOLDIER. 
 
 Die, tyrant, die ! 
 
 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 O Daniel! Daniel! Daniel! 
 
 Enter Soldier. 
 
 SOLDIER. 
 
 Belshazzar's dead ! 
 The wretched king breath'd out his furious soul 
 In that tremendous groan. 
 
 FIRST JEW. 
 
 Belshazzar's dead! 
 Then, Judah, thou art free! The tyrant's fall'n ! 
 Jerusalem, Jerusalem is free ! 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 135 
 
 PART I If. 
 
 Enter Daniel and Jews. 
 
 DANIEL 
 
 Bel boweth down*, and haughty Nebo stoops! 
 The idols fall ; the god and worshipper 
 Together fall; together they bow down ! 
 Each other, or themselves they cannot save. 
 O Babylon, where is thy refuge now? 
 Thy wisdom and thy knowledge, meant to save, 
 Pervert thee ! and thy blessing is thy bane ! 
 "Where are thy brutish deities, Chaldea ? 
 
 Where are thy gods of gold? O Lord of life! 
 
 Thou very God ! so fall thy foes before thee ! 
 
 FIRST JEW. 
 
 So fell beneath the terrors of thy name 
 The idol Chemosh, Moab's empty trust; 
 So Ammonitish Moloch sunk before thee; 
 So fell Philistine Dagon : so shall fall, 
 To time's remotest period, all thy foes, 
 Triumphant Lord of Hosts ! 
 
 DAM EL. 
 
 How chang'd our fate! 
 Not for mjself, O Judah ! but for thee, 
 I shed these tears of joy. For I no more 
 
 * Isaiah xlvi. 
 
136 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 Must view the cedars which adorn the brow 
 
 Of Syrian Lebanon ; no more shall see 
 
 Thy pleasant stream, O Jordan ; nor the flocks 
 
 Which whiten all the mountains of Judea ; 
 
 No more these eyes delighted shall review 
 
 Or Carmel's heights, or Sharon's flow'ry vales. 
 
 I must remain in Babylon ! So Heav'n, 
 
 To whose awards I bow me, has decreed. 
 
 I ne'er shall see thee, Salem ! I am old ; 
 
 And few and toilsome are my days to come. 
 
 But we shall meet in those celestial climes, 
 
 Compar'd with which created glories sink ; 
 
 Where sinners shall have pow'r to harm no note, 
 
 And martyr' d Virtue rests her weary head. 
 
 Though ere my day of promis'd grace shall come, 
 
 I shall be tried by perils strange and new ; 
 
 Nor shall I taste of death, so have I learn'd, 
 
 Till I have seen the captive tribes restor'd. 
 
 FIRST JEW. 
 
 And shall we view, once more, thy hallow'd 
 towers, 
 Imperial Salem ? 
 
 DANIEL. 
 
 Yes, my youthful friends ! 
 You shall behold the second temple rise*, 
 With grateful ecstasy; but we, your sires, 
 Now bent with hoary age ; we, whose charm'd eyes 
 Beheld the matchless glories of the fir;t, 
 Should weep, rememb'ring what we once had seen, 
 That model of perfection! 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 137 
 
 SECON'D JEW. 
 
 Never more 
 Shall such a wond'rous structure grace the earth ! 
 
 "Well have you borne affliction, men of Judah ! 
 "Well have su?tain'd your portion of distress: 
 And, unrepining, drank the bitter dregs 
 Of adverse fortune! Happier days await you. 
 Oh, guard against the perils of success ! 
 Prosperity dissolves the yielding soul, 
 And the bright sun of shining fortune melts 
 The firmest virtue down. Beware, my friends, 
 Be greatly cautious of prosperity ! 
 Defend your sliding hearts; and, trembling, think 
 How those, who buffeted affliction's waves 
 With vig'rous virtue, sunk in pleasure's calm. 
 He*, who of special grace had been allow'd 
 To rear the hallow'd fane to Israel's God, 
 By wealth corrupted, and by ease debauch'd, 
 Forsook the God to whom he rais'd the fane ; 
 And, sunk in sensual sloth, consumed his days 
 In vile idolatrous rites ! — Nor think, my sons, 
 That virtue in sequester'd solitude 
 Is always found. Within the inmost soul 
 The hidden tempter lurks; nor less betrays 
 In the still seeming safety of retreat 
 Than where the world her snares entangling spread- 
 More visible to sense. Guard every thought : 
 Who thinks himself secure is half undone; 
 
 * Solomon. 
 K 
 
138 BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 For sin, unwatch'd, may reach the sanctuary: 
 "Pis not the place preserves us. Righteous Lot 
 Stemm'd the strong current of Corruption's tide, 
 E'en in polluted Sodom; safe he liv'd, 
 While circumspective Virtue's watchful eye 
 Was anxiously awake ; but in the shade, 
 Far from the obvious perils which alarm 
 With palpable temptation, secret sin 
 Ensnar'd his soul ; he trusted in himself! 
 Security betray'd him, and he fell. 
 
 SECOAfD JEW. 
 
 Thy prudent counsels in our hearts shall live, 
 As if a pen of adamant had grav'd them. 
 
 FIRST JEW. 
 
 The dawn approaches ; let us part, my friend, 
 Secure of peace, since tyranny is falPn. 
 
 So perish all thine enemies, O Lord ! 
 So, mighty God ! shall perish all who seek 
 Corrupted pleasures in the turbid waves 
 Of life's polluted stream, and madly quit 
 The living fountain of perennial grace ! 
 
DANIEL. 
 
 a ©acrefc Drama. 
 
 The Righteous is delivered out of trouble, and the 
 Wicked cometh in his stead. 
 
 PROVERBS OF SOLOMOV. 
 
 On peut de plus grands rois surprendre la justice 
 
 Incapable de tromper, 
 
 lis ont peine a s'echapper 
 
 Des pieges de l'artince. 
 Un cceur noble ne peut soupcooner en autrui 
 
 La basesse et la malice 
 
 Qu'il ne sent point en lul. 
 
 ESTHER. TRAGEDIE DE RACINE. 
 
PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. 
 Darius, King of Media and Babylon. 
 
 PllARNACES, ) _ .. „ . M _. 
 
 „ > Courtiers, Enemies to Daniel. 
 
 SoRANUS, S 
 
 Araspes, a young Median Lord, Friend and Con- 
 vert to Daniel. 
 Daniel. 
 
 SCENE— The City of Babylon. 
 
 The Subject is taken from the Sixth Chapter of the 
 Prophet Daniel. 
 
DANIEL. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 Pharxaces, Soranus. 
 pharxaces. 
 ^ es! — I have noted with a jealous eye, 
 The pow'r of this new fav'rite ! Daniel reigns, 
 And not Darius! Daniel guides the springs 
 Which move this mighty empire ! High he sits, 
 Supreme in favour hoth with prince and people! 
 Where is the spirit of our Median lords, 
 Tamel\ to crouch and hend the supple knee 
 To this new god? By Mithras, 'tis too much ! 
 Shall great Arbaces' race to Daniel bow? 
 A foreigner, a captive, and a Jew ? 
 Something must be devis'd, and that right soon, 
 To shake his credit. 
 
 SORAXr*. 
 
 Rather hope to shake 
 The mountain pine, who^e tw i=ung hbres clasp 
 The earth, deep-rooted ! rather hope to shake 
 The Scythian Taurus from his central base! 
 No — Daniel sits too absolute in pow'r, 
 
142 DAK I EL. 
 
 Too firm in favour, for the keenest shaft 
 
 Of nicely-aiming jealousy to reach him. 
 
 PHARNACES. 
 
 Rather he sits too high to sit securely. 
 Yes! he has reach'd that pinnacle of pow'r, 
 "Which closely touches on depression's verge. 
 Hast thou then liv'd in courts ? hast thou grown grey 
 Beneath the mask a subtle statesman wears 
 To hide his secret soul, and dost not know 
 That of all fickle Fortune's transient gifts, 
 Favour is most deceitful? 'Tis a beam, 
 Which darts uncertain brightness for a moment! 
 The faint, precarious, sickly shine of pow'r; 
 Giv'n without merit, by caprice withdrawn. 
 No trifle is so small as what obtains, 
 Save that which loses favour; 'tis a breath, 
 Which hangs upon a smile! A look, a word, 
 A frown, the air-built tower of fortune shakes, 
 And down the unsubstantial fabric falls! 
 Darius, just and clement as he is. 
 If I mistake not, may be wrought upon 
 By prudent wiles, by Flatt'ry's pleasant cup, 
 Administer'd with caution. 
 
 SORANUS. 
 
 But the means? 
 For Daniel's life (a foe must grant him that) 
 Is so replete with goodness, so adorn'd 
 With ev'ry virtue, so exactly squar'd 
 By Wisdom's nicest rules, 'twill be most hard 
 To charge him with the shadow of offence. 
 Pure is his fame as Scythia's mountain snows, 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 143 
 
 When not a breath pollutes them ! O Pharnaces, 
 I've scann'd the actions of his daily life 
 With all the industrious malice of a foe; 
 And nothing meets mine eye but deeds of honour! 
 In office pure; for equitable acts 
 Renown'd : injustice and impartial truth, 
 The Grecian Themis is not more severe. 
 
 PHAR\ACtS. 
 
 By yon bright sun thou blazon'st forth his praise, 
 As if with rapture thou didst read the page 
 Where these fair deeds are written ! 
 
 SORANUS. 
 
 Thou mistak'st. 
 I only meant to show what cause we have 
 To hate and fear him. I but meant to paint 
 His popular virtues and eclipsing merit. 
 Then for devotion, and religious zeal, 
 Who so renown'd as Daniel ? Of his law 
 Observant in the extreme. Thrice every day, 
 With prostrate rev'rence, he adores his God: 
 With superstitious awe his face he turns 
 Towards his belov'd Jerusalem, as if 
 Some local, partial god, might there be found 
 To hear his supplication. No affair 
 Of state, no business so importunate, 
 No pleasure so alluring, no employ 
 Of such high import, to seduce his zeal 
 From this observance due ! 
 
 PHARNACES. 
 
 There, there he falls ! 
 Enough, my friend! his piety destroys him. 
 
144 . DANIEL. 
 
 There, at the very footstool of his God, 
 
 Where he implores protection, there I'll crush him. 
 
 SORAXUS. 
 
 What means Pharnaces? 
 
 PHARXACES. 
 
 Ask not what I mean. 
 The new idea floating in my brain 
 Has yet receiv'd no form. 'Tis yet too soon 
 To give it body, circumstance, or breath. 
 The seeds of mighty deeds are lab ring here, 
 And struggling for a birth! 'Tis near the hour 
 The king is wont to summon us to council: 
 Ere that, this big conception of my mind 
 I'll shape to form and being. Thou, meanwhile 
 Convene our chosen friends; for I shall need 
 The aid of all your counsels, and the weight 
 Of grave authority. 
 
 SORAXLS. 
 
 Who shall be trusted ? 
 
 PHARXACES. 
 
 With our immediate motive none, except 
 A chosen band of friends, who most repine 
 At Daniel's exaltation. But the scheme 
 I meditate must be disclos'd to all 
 Who bear high office; All our Median rulers, 
 Princes and captains, presidents and lords; 
 All must assemble. 'Tis a common cause : 
 All but the young Araspes ; he inclines 
 To Daniel and his God. He sits attent, 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 145 
 
 "With ravish'd ear?, to listen to his lore: 
 "With rev'rence names Jerusalem, and reads 
 The volume of the law. No more he bows 
 To hail the golden Ruler of the Day, 
 But looks for some great Prophet, greater far 
 So they pretend, than Mithras! — From him, there- 
 fore, 
 Conceal whate'er of injury is devis'd 
 'Gainst Daniel. Be it too thy care to-day, 
 To keep him from the council. 
 
 SORAXt s. 
 
 'Tis well thought. 
 'Tis now about the hour of Daniel's prayer: 
 Araspes too is with him ; and to-day 
 They will not sit in council. Haste we then .' 
 Designs of high importance, once conceiv'd, 
 Should be accomplish'd. Genius which discerns, 
 And courage which achieves, despise the aid 
 Of ling'ring circumspection. The keen spirit 
 Seizes the prompt occasion, makes the thought 
 Start into instant action, and at once 
 Plans and performs, re=olve> and executes'. 
 
148 DANIEL. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 SCENE— Daniel's House. 
 Daxiel, Araspes. 
 
 ARASPES. 
 
 Proceed, proceed, thrice venerable sage! 
 Enlighten my dark mind with this new ray, 
 This dawning of salvation ! Tell me more 
 Of this expected King! this Comforter! 
 This Promise of the nations! this great Hope 
 Of anxious Israel! This unborn Prophet! 
 This Wonderful, this mighty Counsellor! 
 This everlasting Lord! This Prince of Peace! 
 This Balm of Gilead, which shall heal the wound; 
 Of universal nature ! This Messiah ! 
 Redeemer, Saviour, Sufferer, Victim, God! 
 
 Enough to animate our faith, we know, 
 But not enough to sooth the curious pride 
 Of vain philosophy! Enough to cheer 
 Our path we see, the rest is hid in clouds, 
 And Heav'n's own shadows rest upon the view 
 
 Go on, blest sage ! 1 could for ever hear, 
 Untir'd, thy admonition! Tell me how 
 I shall obtain the favour of that God 
 I but begin to know, but fain would serve. 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 147 
 
 By deep humility, by faith unfeign'd, 
 By holy deeds, best proof of living faith! 
 O Faith*, thou wonder-working principle, 
 Eternal substance of our present hope, 
 Thou evidence of things invisible! 
 "What cannot man sustain, sustain'd by thee! 
 The time would fail, and the bright star of day 
 Would quench hi- beams in ocean, and resign 
 His empire to the silver queen of night ; 
 And she again descend the steep of heav'n, 
 If I should tell what wonders Faith achiev'd 
 By Gideon, Barak, and the holy seer, 
 Elkanah's son; the piou> Gileadite, 
 Ill-fated Jephthah? He of Zorah toot! 
 In strength unequalled : and the shepherd-king, 
 "Who vanquish'd Gaths fell giant! Need I tell 
 Of holy prophets, who, by conq'ring Faith, 
 "Wrought deeds incredible to mortal sense ; 
 Vanquish'd contending kingdoms, quell'd the r.i 
 Of furious pestilence, extinguish'd fire ! 
 Victorious Faith ! others by thee endur'd 
 Exile, di-grace, captivity, and death! 
 Some, uncomplaining, bore (nor be it deeavd 
 The meanest exercise of well-tried Faith) 
 The cruel mocking, and the bitter taunt, 
 Foul obloquy, and undeservd reproach; 
 Despising shame, that death to human pride ! 
 
 ARASPilS. 
 
 How shall thi- faith be sought? 
 
 * Hebrtv.s xi. t Sampson. 
 
148 DANIEL. 
 
 DANIEL. 
 
 By earnest pray'r, 
 Solicit first the wisdom from above: 
 Wisdom, whose fruits are purity and peace ! 
 Wisdom ! that bright intelligence, which sat 
 Supreme, when with his golden compasses* 
 The Eternal plann'd the fabric of the world, 
 Produc'd his fair idea into light, 
 And said that all was good ! Wisdom, blest beam! 
 The brightness of the everlasting light ! 
 The spotless mirror of the power of God ! 
 The reflex image of the all -perfect Mind! 
 A stream translucent, flowing from the source 
 Of glory infinite! a cloudless light, 
 Defilement cannot touch, nor sin pollute 
 Her unstaind purity ! Not Ophir's gold, 
 Nor Ethiopia's gems can match her price! 
 The ruby of the mine is pale before her! 
 And, like the oil Elisha's bounty bless'd, 
 She is a treasure which doth grow r by use, 
 And multiply by spending! She contains, 
 Within herself, the sum of excellence. 
 If riches are desir'd, Wisdom is wealth! 
 If prudence, w here shall keen invention find 
 Artificer more cunning? If renown, 
 In her right hand it comes! If piety, 
 Are not her labours virtues ? If the lore 
 Which sage experience teaches, lo ! she scans 
 Antiquity's dark truths; the past she knows, 
 Anticipates the future; not by arts 
 
 * See Paradise Lost, book vii. line 225. Proverbs viii. 27. 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 149 
 
 Forbidden, of Chaldean sorcerer, 
 But from the piercing ken of deep foreknowledge, 
 From her sure science of the human heart 
 She weighs effects with causes, ends with means ; 
 Resolving all into the sovereign will. 
 For earthly blessings moderate be thy prayV, 
 And qualified; for light, for strength, for grace, 
 Unbounded thy petition. 
 
 ARASPES. 
 
 Now, O prophet ! 
 Explain the secret doubts which rack my mind, 
 And my weak sense confound. Give me some line, 
 To sound the depths of Providence ! Oh say, 
 Why the ungodly prosper ? why their root 
 Shoots deep, and their thick branches flourish fair, 
 Like the green bay tree ? why the righteous man, 
 Like tender plants to shiv'ring winds expos'd, 
 Is stripp'd and torn, in naked virtue bare, 
 And nipp'd by cruel Sorrow's biting blast ? 
 Explain, O Daniel, these mysterious ways 
 To my faint apprehension! For as yet 
 I've much to learn. Fair Truth's immortal sun 
 Is sometimes hid in clouds; not that her light 
 Is in itself defective; but obscur'd 
 By my weak prejudice, imperfect Faith, 
 And all the thousand causes which obstruct 
 The growth of goodness. 
 
 DAXIEL. 
 
 Follow me, Araspes. 
 Within thou shalt peruse the sacred page, 
 The book of life eternal ! that will show thee 
 
150 DANIEL. 
 
 The end of the ungodly! thou wilt own 
 How short their longest period; will perceive 
 How black a night succeeds their brightest day ! 
 Thy purged eye will see God is not slack, 
 As men count slackness, to fulfil his word. 
 Weigh well this hook; and may the Spirit of grace, 
 "Who stamp'd the seal of truth on the bless'd page, 
 Descend into thy soul, remove thy doubts, 
 Clear the perplex'd, and solve the intricate, 
 Till faith be lost in sight, and hope in joy. 
 
 PART III. 
 
 Darius on his Throne. — Pharnaces, SorANDI 
 Princes, Presidents, and Courtiers. 
 
 PHARNACES. 
 
 Hail, king Darius! live for ever! 
 
 DARIUS. 
 
 Welcome ! 
 Welcome, my princes, presidents, and friends ! 
 Now tell me, has your wisdom aught devis'd 
 To aid the commonwealth ? In our new empire, 
 Subdued Chaldea, is there aught remains 
 Your prudence can suggest to serve the state, 
 To benefit the subject, to redress 
 And raise the injur'd, to assist the oppress'd, 
 And humble the oppressor? If you know, 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 151 
 
 Speak freely, princes ! Why am I a king, 
 Except to poise the awful scale of justice 
 With even hand ; to minister to want; 
 To bless the nations with a lib'ral rule, 
 Vicegerent of the eternal Oromasdes ? 
 
 PHARNACES. 
 
 So absolute thy wisdom, mighty king, 
 All counsel were superfluous. 
 
 DARIUS. 
 
 Hold, Pharnaces! 
 No adulation ; 'tis the death of virtue ! 
 "Who flatters is of all mankind the lowest, 
 Save he who courts the flatten". Kings are men, 
 As feeble and as frail as those they rule, 
 And born, like them, to die. The Lydian monarch 
 Unhappy Crcesus, lately sat aloft, 
 Almost above mortality ; now see him ! 
 Sunk to the vile condition of a slave, 
 He swells the train of Cyrus! I, like him, 
 To misery am obnoxious. See this throne; 
 This royal throne the great Xebassar fill'd ; 
 Yet hence his pride expell'd him! Yonder wall, 
 The dread terrific writing to the eyes 
 Of proud Belshazzar show : d; sad monuments 
 Of Heav'n's tremendous vengeance ! and shall I, 
 Unwarnd by such examples, cherish pride ? 
 Yet to their dire calamities I owe 
 The brightest g^m that glistens in my crown, 
 Sage Daniel. If my speech have aught of worth, 
 Or if my life with aught of good be grac'd. 
 To him alone I owe it. 
 
152 DANIEL. 
 
 sora.xus (aside to pharnaces). 
 Now, Pharnaces, 
 Will he run o'er, and dwell upon his praise, 
 As if we ne'er had heard it; nay will swell 
 The nauseous catalogue with many a virtue 
 His own fond fancy coins. 
 
 PHARXACES. 
 
 O, great Darius ! 
 Let thine unworthy servant's words find grace, 
 And meet acceptance in his royal ear, 
 Who subjugates the east ! Let not the king 
 "With anger hear my pray'r. 
 
 DARIUS. 
 
 Pharnaces, speak ; 
 I know thou lov'st me; I but meant to chide 
 Thy flattery, not reprove thee for thy zeal. 
 Speak boldly, friends, as man should speak to man. 
 Perish the barb'rous maxims of the east; 
 Which basely would enslave the free-born mind, 
 And plunder man of the best gift of Heav'n, 
 His liberty of soul. 
 
 PHARNACES. 
 
 Darius! hear me. 
 Thy princes, and the captains of thy bands, 
 Thy presidents, the nobles who bear rule 
 O'er provinces, and I, thine humble creature, 
 Less than the least in merit, but in love, 
 In zeal, and duty, equal with the first, 
 We have devis'd a measure to confirm 
 Thy infant empire, to establish firmly 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 153 
 
 Thy pow'r and new dominion, and secure 
 
 Thy growing greatness past the pow'r of change. 
 
 DARIUS. 
 
 I am prepar'd to hear thee. Speak, Pharnaces. 
 
 PHARVACES. 
 
 The wretched Babylonians long have groan'd 
 Beneath the rule of princes, weak or rash. 
 The rod of pow'r was sway'd alike amiss, 
 By feeble Merodach, and fierce Belshazzar. 
 One let the slacken'd reins too loosely float 
 Upon the people's neck, and lost his pow'r 
 By nerveless relaxation. He, who follow'd, 
 Held with a tyrant's hand the cruel curb, 
 And check'd the groaning nation till it bled; 
 On different rocks they met one common ruin. 
 Their edicts were irresolute, their laws 
 Were feebly plann'd, their councils ill-advis'd; 
 Now so relax'd, and now so overstrained, 
 That the tir'd people, wearied with the weight 
 They long have borne, will soon disdain control, 
 Trend on all rule, and spurn the hand that guides 
 them. 
 
 But say what remedy? 
 
 PHARVACES. 
 
 That too, O king, 
 Thy servants have provided. Hitherto 
 They bear the yoke submissive. But to fix 
 Thy pow'r and their obedience, to reduce 
 All hearts to thy dominion, yet avoid 
 
 E. 
 
154 DANIEL. 
 
 Those deeds of cruelty thy nature starts at, 
 
 Thou shouldst begin by some imperial act 
 
 Of absolute dominion, yet unstain'd 
 
 By aught of barbarous. For know, O king! 
 
 Wholesome severity, if wisely fram'd 
 
 "With sober discipline, procures more reverence 
 
 Than all the lenient counsels and weak measures 
 
 Of frail irresolution. 
 
 To thy request. 
 
 DARIUS. 
 
 Now proceed 
 
 PHARNACES. 
 
 Not I, but all request it. 
 
 Be thy imperial edict issued staight, 
 And let a firm decree be this day pass'd, 
 Irrevocable, as our Median laws. 
 Ordain that for the space of thirty days. 
 No subject in thy realm shall aught request 
 Of God or man, except of thee, O king ! 
 
 DARIUS. 
 
 Wherefore this strange decree ? 
 
 PHARNACES. 
 
 'Twill fix the crown 
 With lasting safety on thy royal brow, 
 And, by a bloodless means, preserve the obedience 
 Of this new empire. Think how much 'twill raise 
 Thy high renown! 'Twill make thy name rever'd, 
 And popular beyond example. What ! 
 To be as Heav'n, dispensing good and ill 
 For thirty days ! With thine own ears to hear 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 166 
 
 Thy people's wants ! with thine own lib'ral hands 
 To bless thy suppliant subjects ! O Darius ! 
 Thou'lt seem as bounteous as a giving god ! 
 And reign in every heart in Babylon 
 As well as Media ! What a glorious state 
 To be the sovereign arbiter of good ! 
 The first efficient cause of happiness! 
 To scatter mercies with a plenteous hand, 
 And to be blest thyself in blessing others ! 
 
 DARIUS. 
 
 Is this the gen'ral wish? 
 
 [Princes and Courtiers kneel. 
 
 CniEF PRESIDENT. 
 
 Of one, of all. 
 Behold thy princes, presidents, and lords, 
 Thy counsellors, and captains! See, O king! 
 
 [Presenting the Edict. 
 Behold the instrument our zeal has drawn : 
 The edict is prepar'd. We only wait 
 The confirmation of thy gracious word, 
 And thy imperial signet. 
 
 Say, Pharnaces, 
 What penalty awaits the man who dares 
 Transgress our mandate ? 
 
 PHAR1VACES. 
 
 Instant death, O king I 
 This statute says, " Should any subject dare 
 Petition, for the space of thirty days, 
 Of God or man, except of thee, O king ! 
 
156 DANIEL. 
 
 He shall be thrown into yon dreadful den 
 Of hungry lions!"' 
 
 DARIUS. 
 
 Hold ! Methinks a deed 
 Of such importance should be wisely weigh'd. 
 
 FIIARNACES. 
 
 We have revolv'd it, mighty king .' with care, 
 "With closest scrutiny. On us devolve 
 "Whatever blame occurs ! 
 
 DARIUS. 
 
 I am satisfy'd. 
 Then to your wisdom I commit me, princes. 
 Behold the royal signet : see, 'tis done. 
 
 pharnaces (aside, ) 
 
 There Daniel fell! That signet seal'd his doom. 
 darius (after a Pause). 
 
 Let me reflect — Sure I have been too rash ! 
 "Why such intemp'rate haste? But you are wise; 
 And would not counsel this severe decree 
 But for the wisest purpose. Yet, methinks, 
 I might have weigh'd, and in my mind revolv'd — 
 This statute, ere the royal signet stamp'd, 
 It had been past repeal. Sage Daniel too ! 
 My counsellor, my guide, my well-try'd friend, 
 He should have been consulted; he whose wisdom 
 I still have found oracular. 
 
 PHARNACES. 
 
 Mighty king! 
 Tis as it should be. The decree is past 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 1.37 
 
 Trrevoca jle, as (he stedfast law 
 Of Mede and Persian, which can never change. 
 Those who observe it live, as is most meet, 
 High in thy grace ; — who violate it, die. 
 
 PART IV. 
 
 SCENE— Dam el's House. 
 Daniel, Araspes. 
 
 ARASPES. 
 
 O'f, holy Daniel ! prophet, father, friend, 
 
 I come the wretched messenger of ill ! 
 
 Thv foes complot thy death. For what can mean 
 
 This new-made law, extorted from the king 
 
 Almost by force? What can it mean, O Daniel, 
 
 But to involve thee in the toils they spread 
 
 To snare thy precious life ? 
 
 DANIEL. 
 
 How ! was the king 
 Consenting to this edict r 
 
 ARASPES. 
 
 They surpris'd 
 His easy nature ; took him when his heart 
 Was soften'd by their blandishments. They wore 
 The mask of public virtue to deceive him. 
 Beneath the spacious name of general good, 
 
158 DANIEL. 
 
 They wrought him to their purposes : no time 
 Allow'd him to delib'rate. One short hour, 
 Another moment, and his soul had gain'd 
 Her natural tone of virtue. 
 
 That great Pow'r 
 Who suffers evil only to produce 
 Some unseen good, permits that this should be : 
 And, He permitting, I well pleas'd resign. 
 Retire, my friend : this is my seeond hour 
 Of daily pray'r. Anon we'll meet again. 
 Here, in the open face of that bright sun 
 Thy fathers worshipp'd, will I offer up, 
 As is my rule, petition to our God, 
 For thee, for me, for Solyma, for all! 
 
 ARASPES. 
 
 Oh, stay! what mean'st thou? sure thou hast not 
 heard 
 The edict of the king? I thought, but now, 
 Thou knew'st its purport. It expressly says, 
 That no petition henceforth shall be made, 
 For thirty days, save onlv to the king; 
 Nor pray'r nor intercession shall be heard 
 Of any god or man, but of Darius. 
 
 DANIEL. 
 
 And think'st thou then my rev'rence for the king, 
 Good as he is, shall tempt me to renounce 
 My sworn allegiance to the King of kings ? 
 Hast thou commanded legions ! strove in battle, 
 Pefy'd the face of danger, mock'd at death 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 159 
 
 In all Us frightful forms, and tremblest now? 
 Come, learn of me ; 1*11 teach thee to be bold, 
 Though sword [ never drew ! Fear not, Araspes, 
 The feeble vengeance of a mortal man, 
 Whose breath is in his nostrils ; for wherein 
 Is he to be accounted of? but fear 
 The awaken'd vengeance of the living Lord; 
 He who can plunge the everlasting soul 
 In infinite perdition ! 
 
 ARASPES. 
 
 Then, O Daniel! 
 If thou persist to disobey the edict, 
 Retire and hide thee from the prying eyes 
 Of busy malice! 
 
 DANIEL. 
 
 He who is asham'd 
 To vindicate the honour of his God, 
 Of him the living Lord shall be asham'd, 
 When he shall judge the tribes! 
 
 ARASPES. 
 
 Yet, oh remember, 
 Oft have I heard thee say, the secret heart 
 Is fair Devotion's temple ; there the saint, 
 E'en on that living altar, lights the flame 
 , Of purest sacrifice, which burns unseen, 
 Not unaccepted. — I remember too, 
 When Syrian Naaman », by Elisha's hand, 
 Was cleans'd from foul pollution, and his mind 
 Enlighten'd by the miracle, confess'd 
 * 2 Kings v. 
 
160 DANIEL. 
 
 The Almighty God of Jacob; that he deemd it 
 No flagrant violation of his faith 
 To bend at Rimmon's shrine; nor did the Seer 
 Forbid the rite external. 
 
 DA.VIEJU 
 
 Know, Araspes, 
 Heav'n deigns to suit our trials to our strength, 
 A recent convert, feeble in his faith, 
 Naaman, perhaps, had sunk beneath the weight 
 Of so severe a duty. Gracious Heaven 
 Forbears to bruise the reed, or quench the flax 
 When feeble and expiring. But shall I, 
 Shall Daniel, shall the servant of the Lord, 
 A vet'ran in his cause — long train'd to know 
 And do his will — long exercised in woe, 
 Bred in captivity, and born to suffer; 
 Shall I from known, from certain duty shrink, 
 To shun a threaten'd danger? O Araspes! 
 Shall I, advanc'd in age, in zeal decline? 
 Grow careless as I reach my journey's end ? 
 And slacken in my pace, the goal in view? 
 Perish discretion, when it interferes 
 With duty .' Perish the false policy 
 Of human wit, which would commute our safety 
 With God's eternal honour! Shall his law 
 Be set at nought, that I may live at ease ? 
 How would the heathen triumph, should I fall 
 Through coward fear? How 7 would God's enemies 
 Insultingly blaspheme? 
 
 ARASPES. 
 
 Yet think a moment. 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 161 
 
 DANIEL. 
 
 No!— 
 Where evil may be done, 'tis right to ponder; 
 Where only siiffer'd, know, the shortest pause 
 Is much too long. Had great Darius paus'd, 
 This ill had been prevented. But for me, 
 Araspes, to deliberate is to sin. 
 
 ARASPES. 
 
 Think of thy pow'r, thy favour with Darius: 
 Think of thy life's importance to the tribes, 
 Scarce yet return'd in safety. Live ! oh live ! 
 To serve the cause of God ! 
 
 DAXIEL. 
 
 God will himself 
 Sustain his righteous cause. He knows to raise 
 Fit instruments to serve him. Know, Araspes, 
 He does not need our crimes to help his cause; 
 Nor does his equitable law permit 
 A sinful act, from the prepost'rous plea 
 That good may follow it. For me, my friend, 
 The spacious earth holds not a bait to tempt me. 
 What would it profit me, if I should gain 
 Imperial Ecbatan, the extended land 
 Of fruitful Media, nay, the world's wide empire, 
 If mine elernal soul must be the price? 
 Farewell, my friend ! time presses. I have stol'n 
 Some moments from my duty, to confirm 
 And strengthen thy young faith ! Let us fulfil 
 What Heav'n enjoins — and leave to Heav'n the 
 event! 
 
162 
 
 PART V. 
 
 SCENE— The Palace. 
 
 Pharnaces, Soranus. 
 pharnaces. 
 'Tis done — success has crown'd our scheme, Soranus ; 
 And Daniel falls into the deep-laid toils 
 Our prudence spread. 
 
 SORANUS. 
 
 That he should fall so soon, 
 Astonishes e'en me ! What ! not a day ? 
 What ! not a single moment to defer 
 His rash devotions ? Madly thus to rush 
 On certain peril, quite transcends belief! 
 When happen'd it, Pharnaces ? 
 
 PHARNACES. 
 
 On the instant: 
 Scarce is the deed accomplish^. As he made 
 His ostentatious pray'r, e'en in the face 
 Of the bright God of day, all Babylon 
 Beheld the insult offer'd to Darius. 
 For, as in bold defiance of the law, 
 His windows w r ere not clos'd. Our chosen bands, 
 Whom we had plac'd to note him, straight rush'd in, 
 And seiz'd him in the warmth of bis blind zeal, 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 163 
 
 Ere half his prayer was finish'd. Young Araspes, 
 With all the wild extravagance of grief, 
 Pravs, weeps, and threatens. Daniel silent stands, 
 With patient resignation, and prepares 
 To follow them. — But see, the king approaches ! 
 
 How's this ? deep sorrow sits upon his brow ! 
 And stern resentment fires his angry eye. 
 
 Enter Darius. 
 
 O deep-laid stratagem ! O artful wile ! 
 To take me unprepar'd, to wound my heart, 
 E'en where it feels most tenderly, in friendship ! 
 To stab my fame ! to hold me up a mark 
 To future ages, for the perjur'd prince 
 "Who slew the friend he lovd ! O Daniel, Daniel! 
 Who now shall trust Darius? Xot a slave 
 In my wide empire, from the Indian main 
 To the cold Caspian, but is more at ease 
 Than I, Ins monarch! Yes! I've done a deed 
 Will blot my honour with eternal stain ! 
 Pharnaces ! oh thou hoary sycophant ! 
 Thou wily politician! thou hast snar'd 
 Thy unsuspecting master! 
 
 PHARXACES. 
 
 Great Darius, 
 Let not resentment blind thy royal eyes. 
 In what am I to blame? Who could suspect 
 This obstinate resistance to the law ? 
 
164 DANIEL. 
 
 Who could foresee that Daniel would perforce 
 
 Oppose the king's decree ? 
 
 DARIUS. 
 
 Thou, thou foresaw'st it! 
 Thou knew'st his righteous soul would ne'er endure 
 So long an interval of pray'r. But I, 
 Deluded king! 'twas I should have foreseen 
 His stedfast piety. I should have thought 
 Your earnest warmth had some more secret source, 
 Something that touclvd you nearer than your love, 
 Your well-feign'd zeal for me. — I should have 
 
 known, 
 When srlfish politicians, hackney'd long 
 In fraud and artifice, affect a glotv 
 Of patriot fervour, or fond loyalty, 
 Which scorns all show of interest, that's the moment 
 To watch their crooked projects. Well thou knowVt 
 How dear I held him; how I priz'd his truth! 
 Did I not choose him from a subject world, 
 Unble?s'd by fortune, and by birth ungrac'd, 
 A captive, and a Jew ? Did I not love him ? 
 Was he not rich in independent worth? 
 And great in native goodness ? That undid him ! 
 There, there he fell! If he had been less great, 
 He had been safe. Thou couldst not bear hi> 
 
 brightness; 
 The lustre of his virtues quite obscur'd, 
 And dimm'd thy fainter merit. Rash old man! 
 Go, and devise some means to set me free 
 From this dread load of guilt ! Go, set at work 
 Thy plotting genius to redeem the life 
 Of venerable Daniel ! 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. J 65 
 
 PHAR.VACES. 
 
 Tis too late, 
 lie has offended 'gainst the new decree ; 
 Has dar'd to make petition to his God, 
 Although the dreadful sentence of the act 
 Full well he knew. And by the establish'd law 
 Of Media, by that law irrevocable, 
 "Which he has dar'd to violate, he dies! 
 
 Impiety! presumption! monstrous law! 
 Irrevocable! Is there aught on earth 
 Deserves that name? The eternal laws alone 
 Of Oromasdes are unchangeable ! 
 All human projects are so faintly fram'd, 
 So feebly plann'd, so liable to change, 
 So mix'd with error in their very form, 
 That mutable and mortal are the same. 
 But where is Daniel? "Wherefore comes he not 
 To load me with reproaches ? To upbraid me 
 With all the wrongs my barb'rous haste has done him ? 
 Where is he ? 
 
 PHARNACES. 
 
 He prepares to meet his fate. 
 This hour he dies, for so the act decrees. 
 
 DARIUS. 
 
 Suspend the bloody sentence. Bring him hither: 
 Or rather let me seek him, and implore 
 His dying pardon, and his parting prayer. 
 
166 DANIEL. 
 
 PART VI. 
 
 SCENE — Daniel's House. 
 Daniel, Araspes. 
 
 araspes. 
 Still let me follow thee ; still let me hear 
 The voice of Wisdom, ere the silver cord 
 By Death's cold hand be loosen'd. 
 
 Now I'm ready! 
 
 No grief, no woman's weakness, good Araspes ! 
 Thou should'st rejoice my pilgrimage is o'er, 
 And the blest haven of repose in view. 
 
 ARASPES. 
 
 And must I lose thee, Daniel? must thou die ? 
 
 DANIEL. 
 
 And what is death, my friend, that I should 
 fear it ? 
 To die! why 'tis to triumph: 'tis to join 
 The great assembly of the good and just; 
 Immortal worthies, heroes, prophets, saints! 
 Oh! 'tis to join the band of holy men, 
 Made perfect by their sufferings! 'Tis to meet 
 My great progenitors! 'Tis to behold 
 The illustrious patriarchs; they with whom the Lord 
 Deign'd hold familiar converse ! 'Tis to see 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 167 
 
 Bless'd Noah and his children, once a world ! 
 Tis to behold, oh! rapture to conceive ! 
 Those we have known, and lov'd, and lost below! 
 Bold Azariah, and the band of brothers, 
 Who sought, in bloom of youth, the scorching flames ! 
 Nor shall we see heroic men alone, 
 Champions who fought the fight of faith on earth ; 
 But heav'nly conquerors, angelic hosts, 
 Michael and his bright legions who subdu'd 
 The foes of Truth! To join their blest employ 
 Of love and praise ! to the high melodies 
 Of choirs celestial to attune my voice, 
 Accordant to the golden harps of saints! 
 To join in blest hosannahs to their King! 
 "Whose face to see, whose glory to behold, 
 Alone were heav'n, though saint or seraph none 
 Should meet our sight, and only God were there ! 
 This is to die! Who would not die for this? 
 Who would not die, that he might live for ever? 
 
 Darius, Daxiel, Araspes. 
 
 DARIUS. 
 
 Where is he? where is Daniel? Let me see him ! 
 Let me embrace that venerable form. 
 Which I have doom'd to glut the greedy maw 
 Of furious lions ! 
 
 DANIEL. 
 
 King Darius, hail! 
 
 DARIUS. 
 
 Oh, injur'd Daniel! can I see thee thus, 
 Thus uncomplaining ? can I bear to hear 
 
168 DANIEL. 
 
 That when the ruffian ministers of death 
 
 Stopp'd thy unfinish'd prayer, thy pious lips 
 
 Had just invok'd a blessing on Darius, 
 
 On him who sought thy lif»? Thy murdVers dropt 
 
 Tears of strange pity. Look not on me thus 
 
 With mild benignity! Oh! I could bear 
 
 The voic? of keen reproach, or the strong flash 
 
 Of fierce resentment; but I cannot stand 
 
 That touching silence, nor that patient eye 
 
 Of meek respect. 
 
 DA XI EL. 
 
 Thou art my master still. 
 
 DARIUS. 
 
 I am thy murderer! I have sign'd thy death! 
 
 DANIEL. 
 
 I know thy bent of soul is honourable: 
 Thou hast been gracious still ! Were it not so, 
 I would have met the appointment of high Ileav'n 
 With humble acquiescence ; but to know 
 Thy will concurr'd not with thy servant's fate, 
 Adds joy to resignation. 
 
 DARIUS. 
 
 Here I swear, 
 By him who sits enthron'd in yon bright sun, 
 Thy blood shall be aton'd ! On these thy foes 
 Thou shalt have ample vengeance. 
 
 Hold, O king! 
 Vengeance is mine, the eternal Lord has said .- 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 169 
 
 Myself will recompense, with even hand, 
 The sinner for the sin. The wrath of man 
 AVorks not the righteousness of God. 
 
 DARIUS. 
 
 I had hop'd 
 We should have trod this busy stage together 
 A little longer, then have sunk to rest 
 In honourable age ! Who now shall guide 
 My shatter'd bark in safety ? Who shall now 
 Direct me? Oh, unhappy state of kings! 
 'Tis well the robe of majesty i> gay, 
 Or who would put it on: A crown! what is it? 
 It is to bear the miseries of a people! 
 To hear their murmurs, feel their discontents, 
 And sink beneath a load of splendid care! 
 To have your best success ascrib'd to Fortune, 
 And Fortune's failures all ascrib'd to you! 
 It is to sit upon a jobless height, 
 To every bla^t of changing fate expos'd ! 
 Too high for hope! too great for happiness! 
 For friendship too much fear'd ! To all thejovs 
 Of social freedom, and the endearing charm 
 Of lib'ral interchange of soul unknown! 
 Fate meant me an exception to the rest, 
 And, though a monarch, bless'd me with a friend ; 
 And I — have murder'd him! 
 
 My hour approaches 
 Hate not ray mem'ry, king: protect Ara-pes: 
 Encourage Cyrus in the holy work 
 Of building ruin'd Solvma. Farewell ! 
 
170 DANIEL. 
 
 DARIUS. • 
 With most religious strictness I'll full til 
 Thy last request. Araspes shall be next 
 My throne and heart. Farewell! [They embrace."] 
 Hear, future king>, 
 Ye unborn rulers of the nations, hear ! 
 Learn from my crime, from my misfortunes learn, 
 Never to trust to weak or wicked hands, 
 That delegated pow'r which Oromasdes 
 Invests in monarchs for the public good. 
 
 PART VII. 
 
 SCENE— The Court of the Palace.— The Sun 
 rising. 
 
 Darius, Araspes. 
 
 On, good Araspes! what a night of horror! 
 To me the dawning day brings no return 
 Of cheerfulness or peace! No balmy sleep 
 Has seal'd these eyes, no nourishment has past 
 These loathing lips, since Daniel's fate was siga'd. 
 Hear what my fruitless penitence resolves — 
 The thirty days my rashness had decreed 
 The edict's force should last, I will devote 
 To mourning and repentance, fasting, pray'r, 
 And all due rites of grief. For thirty days 
 No pleasant sound of dulcimer or harp, 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 171 
 
 Sackbut or flute, or psaltery, shall charm 
 My ear, now dead to every note of joy? 
 
 ARASFES. 
 
 My grief can know no period ! 
 
 See that den ! 
 There Daniel met the furious lions' rage! 
 There were the patient martyr's mangled limbs 
 Torn piece-meal! Never hide thy tears, Araspes! 
 'Tis virtuous sorrow, unalbay'd, like mine, 
 By guilt and fell remorse! Let us approach : 
 V»"ho knows but that dread Pow'r to whom he pra\*d 
 So often and so fervently, has heard him ! 
 
 [i/e goes to the Mouth of the Den. 
 O Daniel ! servant of the living God ! 
 Hf, whom thou hast serv'd so long, and lov'd so well, 
 From the devouring lions' famish'd jaw 
 Can he deliver thee? 
 
 da.viel (from the Bottom of the Den. ) 
 lie can — he has! 
 
 DARIUS. 
 
 Methought I heard him speak ! 
 
 ARASPES. 
 
 Oh! wondrous force 
 Of strong imagination! were thy voice 
 Loud as the trumpet's blast, it could not wake him 
 From that eternal sleep! 
 
172 DANIEL. 
 
 daniel (in the Ben). 
 
 Hail! king Darius! 
 The God I serve has shut the lions' mouth, 
 To vindicate my innocence. 
 
 DARIUS. 
 
 He speaks! 
 He lives! 
 
 ARASPES. 
 
 'Tis no illusion: 'tis the sound 
 Of his known voice. 
 
 DARIUS. 
 
 Where are my servants? Haste, 
 Fly, swift as lightning, free him from the den ; 
 Release him, bring him. hither! Break the seal 
 Which keeps him from me! See, Araspes! look! 
 See the charm'd lions; mark their mild demeanour. 
 Araspes, mark ! they have no pow'r to hurt him! 
 See how they hang their heads and smooth their 
 
 fierceness, 
 At his mild aspect. 
 
 ARASPKS. 
 
 Who that sees this sight, 
 Who that in after-times shall hear this told, 
 Can doubt if Daniel's God be God indeed ? 
 
 DARIUS. 
 
 None, none, Araspes! 
 
 ARASPES. 
 
 Ah, he comes ! he comes ! 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. 173 
 
 Enter Daniel, followed by Multitudes. 
 
 DANIEL. 
 
 Hail, great Darius! 
 
 DARIUS. 
 
 Dost thou live indeed ? 
 And live unhurt? 
 
 ARASPES. 
 
 Oh, miracle of joy ! 
 
 DiVRILS. 
 
 T scarce can trust my eyes ! How didst thou 'scape ? 
 
 DANIEr,. 
 
 That bright and glorious Being who vouchsaf 'd 
 Presence divine, when the three martyr'd brothers 
 Essay'd the cauldron's flame, supported me ! 
 E'en in the furious lions' dreadful den, 
 The prisoner of hope, even there I turn'd 
 To the strong hold, the bulwark of my strength, 
 Ready to hear, and mighty to redeem. 
 
 DARIUS (to ARASPES). 
 
 Where is Pharnaces ? Take the hoary traitor! 
 Take too Soranu?, and the chief abettors 
 Of this dire edict; let not one escape, 
 The punishment their deep-laid hate devis'd 
 For holy Daniel, on their heads shall fall 
 With tenfold vengeance. To the lions' den 
 I doom his vile accusers! All their wives, 
 Their children too, shall share one common fate! 
 Take care that none escape. — Go, good Araspes. 
 
 [straspes goes out. 
 
171 DAM EL. 
 
 DANIEL. 
 
 Not SO, LK 
 
 Oh spare the guiltless; spare the guilty too! 
 Where sin is not, to punish were unjust ; 
 And where sin is, O king, there fell remorse 
 Supplies the place of punishment! 
 
 DARIUS. 
 
 No more! 
 My word is past! Not one request, save this, 
 Shalt thou e'er make in vain. Approach, my friend= 
 Araspes has already spread the tale, 
 And see what crowds advance! 
 
 Long live Darius! 
 Long live great Daniel too, the people's friend ! 
 
 Draw near, my subjects. See this holy man! 
 Death hath no pow'r to harm him. Yon fell band 
 Of famish'd lions, soften'd at his sight, 
 Forgot their nature, and grew tame before him. 
 The mighty God protects his servants thus ! 
 The righteous thus he rescues from the snare! 
 While Fraud's artificer himself shall fall 
 In the deep gulf his wily arts devise 
 To snare the innocent! 
 
 A COURTIER. 
 
 To the same dea 
 Araspes bears Pharnaces and his friends. 
 
A SACRED DRAMA. I' 
 
 Fall'n is their insolence! With prayers and tears, 
 And all the meanness of high-crested pride, 
 When adverse fortune frowns, they beg for life. 
 Araspes will not hear. " You heard not me," 
 He cries, " when I for Daniels life implored ; 
 His God protected him! see now if yours 
 Will listen to your cries !" 
 
 Now hear, 
 People and nations, languages and realms, 
 O'er whom I rule ! Peace he within your walls, 
 That I may banish from the minds of men 
 The rash decree gone out : hear me resolve 
 To counteract its force by one more just. 
 In ev'ry kingdom of my wide-stretch'd realm, 
 From fair Chaldea til the extremest bound 
 Of northern Media, be my edict sent, 
 And this my statute known. My heralds haste, 
 And spread my royal mandate through the land, 
 That all my subjects bow the ready knee 
 To Daniels God ; for He alone is Lord. 
 Let all adore, and tremble at his name, 
 Who sits in glory unapproachable 
 Above the heav'ns — above the heav'n of heav'ns ! 
 Hrs pow'r is everlasting; and his throne, 
 Founded in equity and truth, shall last 
 Beyond the bounded reign of time and space, 
 Through wide eternity ! With his right arm 
 He saves, and who opposes? He defends, 
 And who shall injure ? In the perilous den 
 He rescued Daniel from the lion's mouth ! 
 
17G DANIEL. 
 
 His common deeds are wonders; all his works 
 One ever-during chain of miracles! 
 
 Enter Araspes. 
 
 ARASPES. 
 
 All hail, O king! Darius, live for ever! 
 May all thy foes be as Pharnaces is! 
 
 DARIUS. 
 
 Araspes, speak ! 
 
 ARASPES. 
 
 Oh, let me spare the tale ! 
 'Tis full of horror! Dreadful was the sight! 
 The hungry lions, greedy for their prey, 
 Devour'd the wretched princes ere they reach'd 
 The bottom of the den. 
 
 DARIUS. 
 
 Now, now confess, 
 'Tvvas some superior hand restrain'd their rage 
 And tam'd their furious appetites. 
 
 PEOPLE. 
 
 'Tis true. 
 The God of Daniel is a mighty God ! 
 He saves and he destroys. 
 
 ARASPES. 
 
 O friend ! O Daniel ! 
 No wav'ring doubts can ever more disturb 
 My settled faith. 
 
 DANIEL. 
 
 To God be all the glory ! 
 
REFLECTIONS 
 
 OF 
 
 KING HEZEKIAH, 
 
 Set tbiae bouse in order, for tboa shalt die." 
 
 isaiah xxxviii. 
 
REFLECTIONS 
 
 Or 
 
 KING HEZEKIAH, 
 
 %n bis Richness. 
 
 What! and no more? — Is this, my soul, said I, 
 My whole of being? — Must I surely die? 
 Be robb'd at once of health, of strength, of time. 
 Of youth's fair promise, and of pleasure's prime? 
 Shall I no more behold the face of morn, 
 The cheerful day-light, and the spring's return? 
 Must I the festive bow'r, the banquet leave, 
 For the dull chambers of the darksome grave? 
 
 Have I consider'd what it is to die? 
 In native dust with kindred worms to lie ; 
 To sleep in cheerless cold neglect ! to rot ! 
 My body loath'd, my very name forgot ! 
 Not one of all those parasites, who bend 
 The supple knee, their monarch to attend ! 
 "What, not one friend? No, not an hireling slave 
 Shall hail great Hezekia.ii in the grave. 
 Where's he, who falsely claim'd the name of Great t 
 Whose eye was terror, and whose frown was fate , 
 Who aw'd an hundred nations from the throne? 
 See where he lies, dumb, friendless, and alone ! 
 
180 REFLECTIONS OF 
 
 Which grain of dust proclaims the noble birth ? 
 
 Which is the royal particle of earth ? 
 
 Where are the marks, the princely ensigns where? 
 
 Which is the slave, and which great David's heir? 
 
 Alas! the beggar's ashes are not kn >wn 
 
 From his, who lately »at on Israel's throne ! 
 
 How stands m\ great account? My soul, survey 
 
 The debt eternal justice bids thee pay ! 
 
 Should I frail Memory's records strive to blot, 
 
 Will Heav'n's tremendous reck'ning be forgot? 
 
 Can I, alas, the awful volume tear? 
 
 Or rase one page of the dread register ? 
 
 " Prepare thy house, thy heart in order set : 
 
 Prepare the Judge of Heav'n and Earth to meet:' 
 So spak the warning Prophet. — Awful words'. 
 Which fearfully my troubl. d soul records. 
 Am I prepar'd ? and can I meet my doom, 
 Nor shudder at the dreaded wrath to come? 
 Is all in order set, my house, my heart? 
 Does no besetting sin still claim a part? 
 No cherish'd error, loath to quit its place, 
 Obstruct within my soul the work of grace? 
 Did I each day foi this great d.iy prepare, 
 By righteous deeds, by sin-subduing pray'r ? 
 Did I each ni°;ht, each day's offence repent, 
 And each unholy thought and word lament ? 
 Still have these ready hands the afflicted fed, 
 And ministerd to Want her daily bread? 
 The caus 1 knew not d:d I well explore ? 
 Friend, advocate, and parent of the poor? 
 Did I, to gratify some sudden gust 
 Of thoughtless appetite, some impious lust 
 
KING HEZEKIAH. 181 
 
 Of pleasure or of pow'r, such sums employ 
 
 As would have flush'd pale penury with joy ? 
 
 Did I in groves forbidden altars raise, 
 
 Or molten gods adore, or idols praise ? 
 
 Did my firm faith to Heav'n still point the way ? 
 
 Did charity to man my actions sway? 
 
 Did me;'k-e\'d Patience all my steps attend? 
 
 Did gen'rous Candour mark me for her friend ? 
 
 Did I unjustly seek to build my name 
 
 On the pil'd ruins of another's fame? 
 
 Did I abhor, as hell, th:> insidious lie, 
 
 The low deceit, the unmanly calumny ? 
 
 Did my fix'd soul the impious wit detest ? 
 
 Did my firm virtue scorn the unhallow'd jest, 
 
 The sneer profane, and the poor ridicule 
 
 Of shallow Infidelity's dull school ? 
 
 Did I still live as born one day to die, 
 
 And view the eternal world with constant eye ? 
 
 If so I liv'd, if so I kept thy word, 
 In mercy view, in mercy hear me, Lord ! 
 For oh ! how strict soe'er I kept thy law, 
 From mercy only all my hopes I draw ; 
 My holiest deeds indulgence will require; 
 The best but to forgiveness will aspire; 
 If thou my purest services regard, 
 'Twill be with pardon only, not reward. 
 How imperfection's stamp'd on all below ! 
 How sin intrudes in all we say or do ! 
 How late in all the insolence of health, 
 1 channel the Assyrian* by my boast of wealth! 
 
 * This is anachronism. Hezekiah did not show his trea- 
 sures to the Assyrian till after bis recovery from his sickness. 
 
182 REFLECTIONS OF 
 
 How fondly with elab'rate pomp display'd 
 My glitt'ring treasures ! with what triumph laid 
 My gold and gems before his dazzled eyes, 
 And found a rich reward in his surprise J 
 Oh, mean of soul ! can wealth elate the heart, 
 Which of the man himself is not a part ! 
 Oh, poverty of pride ! Oh, foul disgrace ! 
 Disgusted Reason, blushing, hides her face. 
 Mortal and proud! strange contradicting terms! 
 Pride for Death's victim, for the prey of worms! 
 Of all the wonders which the eventful life 
 Of man presents; of all the mental strife 
 Of warring passions; all the raging fires 
 Of furious appetites and mad desires, 
 Not one so strange appears as this alone, 
 That man is proud of what is not his own ! 
 
 How short is human life ! the very breath, 
 Which frames my words, accelerates my death. 
 Of this short life how large a portion's fled ; 
 
 To what is gone I am already dead ; 
 
 As dead to all my years and minutes past, 
 
 As I, to what remains, shall be at last. 
 
 Can I past miseries so far forget, 
 
 To view my vanish'd years with fond regret? 
 
 Can I again my worn-out fancy cheat ? 
 
 Indulge fresh hope? solicit new deceit? 
 
 Of all the vanities weak man admires, 
 
 Which greatness gives, youth hopes, or pride desires ; 
 
 Of these, my soul, which hast thou not enjoy 'd ! 
 
 With each, with all, thy sated powers are cloy'd. 
 
 What can I then expect from length of days ? 
 
 More wealth, more wisdom,pleasure,health,or praise ? 
 
KING IIEZI-KIAH. 1S3 
 
 .More pleasure! hope not (bat, deluded king! 
 
 For when did age increase of pleasure bring? 
 
 Is health, of years pmlong'd the common boast? 
 
 And dear-earn'd fame, is it not cheaply lost? 
 
 More wisdom! that indeed were happiness; 
 
 That were a wish a king might well confess : 
 
 But when did Wisdom covet length of days? 
 
 Or seek its bliss in pleasure, wealth, or praise? 
 
 No : — "Wisdom views with an indifferent eve 
 
 All finite joys, all blessings born to die. 
 
 The soul on earth is au immortal guest, 
 
 Compell'd to starve at an unreal feast : 
 
 A spark, which upward tends by Nature's force ; 
 
 A stream, diverted from its parent source; 
 
 A drop, dissever'd from the boundless sea ; 
 
 A moment, parted from eternity; 
 
 A pilgrim, panting for the rest to come ; 
 
 An evile, anxious for his native home. 
 
 Why should I ask my forfeit life to save ? 
 Is Heavn unjust which dooms me to the grave? 
 Was I with hope of endless days deceiv'd ? 
 Or of lov'd life am I alone bereav'd ? 
 Let all the great, the rich, the learn d, the wise, 
 Let all the shades of Judah's monarchs rise, 
 And say, if genius, learning, empire, w ealth, 
 Vouth, beauty, virtue, strength, renown, or health, 
 Has once revers'd the immutable decree 
 On Adam pass'd, of man's mortality ? 
 What — have these eyes ne'er seen the felon worm 
 The damask cheek devour, the finish'd form? 
 On the pale rose of blasted beauty feed, 
 And riot on the lip so lately red? 
 
184 REFLECTIONS OF KING HEZEKIAH. 
 
 Where are our fathers? Where the illustrious line 
 Of holy prophets, and of seers divine? 
 Live they for ever? Do they shun the grave? 
 Or when did Wisdom its professor save ? 
 When did the brave escape ? When did the breath 
 Of eloquence charm the dull ear of Death? 
 When did the cunning argument avail, 
 The polish'd period, or the varnish'd tale ; 
 The eye of lightning, or the soul of fire, 
 Which thronging thousands crowded to admire ? 
 E'en while we praise the verse the poet dies ; 
 And silent as his lyre great David lies. 
 Thou, blest Isaiah! who at God's command, 
 Now speak'st repentance to a guilty land, 
 Must die! as wise and good thou hadst not been, 
 As Nebat's son, who taught the land to sin. 
 
 And shall I then be spar'd ? Oh monstrous pride ! 
 Shall I escape, when Solomon has died ? 
 If all the worth of all the saints were vain — 
 Peace, peace, my troubled soul, nor dare complain ! 
 Lord, I submit. Complete thy gracious will ! 
 For if thou slay me, I will trust thee still. 
 Oh ! be my will so swallovv'd up in thine, 
 That I may do thy will in doing mine. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 <\ Whiuinnhani, Printer, Chiswick.