Of fun, or moon, or ftar throughout the year,

Or man, or woman.

Yet I argue not

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Against Heav'n's hand or will, nor bate a jot Of heart or hope; but ftill bear up and steer Right onward. What fupports me, doft thou ask? The conscience, Friend, to' have lost them overply'd In liberty's defense, my noble task,

Of which all Europe talks from fide to fide.

II

This thought might lead me through the world's

vain mask

Content though blind, had I no better guide.

Brought to me like Alceftis from the grave, Whom Jove's great fon to her glad husband gave, Rescued from death by force, though pale and

faint.

Mine, as whom wash'd from spot of child-bed taint 5
Purification in the old Law did fave,

And such, as yet once more I trust to have
Full fight of her in Heav'n without restraint,
Came vested all in white, pure as her mind:
Her face was veil'd, yet to my fancied fight
Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shin'd
So clear, as in no face with more delight.
But O as to embrace me the inclin'd,

I wak'd, fhe fled, and day brought back my

night.

and for the fame reason no part of Mr. Pope's works affords greater pleasure than what he fays of himfelf and his writings, efpecially in his imitation of the firft Satire of Horace, and in his Satires intitled from the year 1738.

* This was his fecond wife, Catharine the daughter of Captain Woodcock of Hackney, who lived with him not above a year after their marriage, and died in childbed of a daughter.

PSALMS.

2.-like Alceftis from the grave,

&c] Alceftis was the wife of Admetus king of Theffaly, who being dangeroufly ill obtain'd by the means of Apollo, that he should recover, if any body elfe would die in his ftead. His wife voluntarily offer'd herself, but Hercules intervening refcued her from death, and brought her back again to her hufband. Our author borrows the allufion from a play of Euripides called Alceftis.

R 4

In counsel of the wicked, and i' th' way
Of finners hath not stood, and in the feat
Of fcorners hath not fat. But in the great
Jehovah's law is ever his delight,
And in his law he ftudies day and night.
He shall be as a tree which planted grows
By watry streams, and in his feafon knows
To yield his fruit, and his leaf fhall not fall,
And what he takes in hand fhall profper all.
Not fo the wicked, but as chaff which fann'd
The wind drives, fo the wicked shall not stand
In judgment, or abide their trial then,
Nor finners in th' affembly of just men.
For the Lord knows th' upright way of the juft,
And the way of bad men to ruin must.

W

PSAL. II. Done Aug. 8. 1653. Terzette. HY do the Gentiles tumult, and the nations Mufe a vain thing, the kings of th'earth upftand With pow'r, and princes in their congregations Lay deep their plots together through each land Againft

Against the Lord and his Meffiah dear?

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Let us break off, fay they, by ftrength of hand Their bonds, and caft from us, no more to wear, Their twisted cords: He who in Heav'n doth dwell

Shall laugh, the Lord fhall fcoff them, then severe Speak to them in his wrath, and in his fell

And fierce ire trouble them; but I, faith he,
Anointed have my King (though ye rebel)
On Sion my holy' hill. A firm decree
I will declare; the Lord to me hath said
Thou art my Son, I have begotten thee
This day; afk of me, and the grant is made;
As thy poffeffion I on thee bestow

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15

Th' Heathen, and as thy conqueft to be sway'd Earth's utmost bounds: them fhalt thou bring full

low

With iron scepter bruis'd, and them difperfe 20
Like to a potter's vessel shiver'd fo.

And now be wife at length ye Kings averse,
Be taught ye Judges of the earth; with fear
Jehovah ferve, and let your joy converse
With trembling; kiss the Son left he appear

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In

In anger and ye perifh in the way,

If once his wrath take fire like fuel fere. Happy all those who have in him their stay.

L

PSA L. III. Aug. 9. 1653.

When he fled from Abfalom.

ORD how many are my foes!
How many thofe

That in arms against me rise!
Many are they

That of my life diftruftfully thus fay,
No help for him in God there lies.
But thou Lord art my shield, my glory,
Thee through my story

Th' exalter of my head I count;

Aloud I cry'd

Unto Jehovah, he full foon reply'd
And heard me from his holy mount.
I lay and flept, I wak'd again,

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