Long time we bow'd, and still beneath the yoke Should bow, but God's strong arm the fetters broke.

Loud as a thunderclap, the rescue came,

And foil'd the mighty hunter of his game.
Hush'd is the Lion's lordly rage; no more
The world turns pale to hear his angry roar.
The ranging Bear has clos'd his horrid feast,
And the dire prowling of the Leopard ceas'd.
Nor shall the ten-horn'd monster, once the dread
Of wasted empires, long uphold his head;
Tho' round his offspring, with insinuous tail,

The dragon watch, and, mad with anguish, wail.
Faint, and yet fainter is that gasping throat,

Unfelt, unfear'd; retiring, and remote.

Hark, in the gale a softer note succeeds!

The soul looks ling'ring; Faith the promise pleads. O Lamb of God, the joyful sound increase!

Enlarge thy tents, th' abodes of perfect peace!

Stretch forth that sceptre, which shall awe the world,

When hostile monarchs from their thrones are hurl'd.

XIV.

Age after age rolls on ;-like passing clouds,

Of grand events the destin'd phalanx crowds,

Succeeding and succeeded; closing fast,

Eventful all, but most of all the last.

Such things as we have seen, the saints interr'd
Desir'd to see, to hear as we have heard.

We not less anxious to behold the pow'r,

Now working, finish'd in a future hour.

The same sure sign, as they possess'd, have we,

That what the Spirit hath foreshown shall be.

Of this, the word perform'd in every age,

To them, to us is one unerring pledge.

One is the Author of our faith, the Friend,

By whom the work began, by whom shall end:

Not like frail creature, subject to the laws Of force, nor influenc'd by a second cause; But has within himself all pow'r confin'd; Unbiass'd will, and unrepenting mind.

To whom all things, consistent with his view
Of right, are possible, and must ensue,

Each in th' appointed time, as he shall see
Most suitable to his divine decree.

Not to enlarge his glory, strength, or sway,

Which will not bear addition or decay,

But, by a living witness, to record

His justice, mercy, pow'r, and faithful word.
These, in unsullied blaze, shall shine, when all

Inferior lights to outward darkness fall;
When not a light exists, but such as gives
Reflection of that life, by which it lives.

XV.

Wide as the sun his friendly light displays,
Whate'er our hand erects, our eye surveys,
The proudest monument of human sway,
Like foam upon the beach, shall melt away.
He, that casts anchor on this sandy rock,
Is plung'd to sheer perdition with the shock.
But Faith, amid the storm, her voyage keeps,
Warn'd of the false repose and whirling deeps.
With full-stretch'd sail and stedfast eye, explores
A surer landing on serener shores.

XVI.

Thus when the stranger, with unsparing pow'r,

Laid low the crest of Salem's regal tower;
Whose sons, forgetful of their God, misus'd
His holy prophets, and his law refus'd,

The priest and people, joining hearts and hands,

Defil'd his courts with gods of heathen lands.
Heedless of Faith, by warning unreclaim'd,

With scorn the preacher, and his God they sham'd.
Till rous'd, th' almighty hand, which proffer'd love,
Pour'd out the wrathful vials from above.

Nor pow'r nor pray'r could save the guilty race,

Nor Zion's altar, God's own dwelling place;

Tho' for their safety a sure guard believ'd;—

A guard for sin, oh, fatally deceiv'd!

When the fierce Chaldee smote, with ruthless rage,

The people of each rank, and sex, and age;

Or spar'd to suffer, in a foreign soil,

Pangs worse than death, and with a bondsman's toil.

Here, far from Salem's broken wall remov'd,

Faith found her sons, by their allegiance prov'd.

Yet that the Lord was near at their request,

Let the rare vict'ry which they won attest,