Religious and Moral Poems by Phillis Wheatley (books to read as a couple TXT) đ
- Author: Phillis Wheatley
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Thus spoke the youth, thâ attentive people eyâd The wondârous hero, and again replyâd: âSuch the rewards our monarch will bestow, âOn him who conquers, and destroys his foe.â
Eliab heard, and kindled into ire To hear his shepherd brother thus inquire, And thus begun: âWhat errand brought thee? say âWho keeps thy flock? or does it go astray? âI know the base ambition of thine heart, âBut back in safety from the field depart.â
Eliab thus to Jesseâs youngest heir, Expressâd his wrath in accents most severe. When to his brother mildly he replyâd. âWhat have I done? or what the cause to chide?
The words were told before the king, who sent For the young hero to his royal tent: Before the monarch dauntless he began, âFor this Philistine fail no heart of man: âIâll take the vale, and with the giant fight: âI dread not all his boasts, nor all his might.â When thus the king: âDarâst thou a stripling go, âAnd venture combat with so great a foe? âWho all his days has been inurâd to fight, âAnd made its deeds his study and delight: âBattles and bloodshed brought the monster forth, âAnd clouds and whirlwinds usherâd in his birth.â When David thus: âI kept the fleecy care, âAnd out there rushâd a lion and a bear; âA tender lamb the hungry lion took, âAnd with no other weapon than my crook âBold I pursuâd, and chas d him oâer the field, âThe prey deliverâd, and the felon killâd: âAs thus the lion and the bear I slew, âSo shall Goliath fall, and all his crew: âThe God, who savâd me from these beasts of prey, âBy me this monster in the dust shall lay.â So David spoke. The wondâring king replyâd; âGo thou with heavân and victory on thy side: âThis coat of mail, this sword gird on,â he said, And placâd a mighty helmet on his head: The coat, the sword, the helm he laid aside, Nor chose to venture with those arms untryâd, Then took his staff, and to the neighbâring brook Instant he ran, and thence five pebbles took. Mean time descended to Philistiaâs son A radiant cherub, and he thus begun: âGoliath, well thou knowâst thou hast defyâd âYon Hebrew armies, and their God denyâd: âRebellious wretch! audacious worm! forbear, âNor tempt the vengeance of their God too far: âThem, who with his Omnipotence contend, âNo eye shall pity, and no arm defend: âProud as thou art, in short livâd glory great, âI come to tell thee thine approaching fate. âRegard my words. The Judge of all the gods, âBeneath whose steps the towâring mountain nods, âWill give thine armies to the savage brood, âThat cut the liquid air, or range the wood. âThee too a well-aimâd pebble shall destroy, âAnd thou shalt perish by a beardless boy: âSuch is the mandate from the realms above, âAnd should I try the vengeance to remove, âMyself a rebel to my king would prove. âGoliath say, shall grace to him be shown, âWho dares heavâns Monarch, and insults his throne?â
âYour words are lost on me,â the giant cries, While fear and wrath contended in his eyes, When thus the messenger from heavân replies: âProvoke no more Jehovahâs awful hand âTo hurl its vengeance on thy guilty land: âHe grasps the thunder, and, he wings the storm, âServants their sovâreignâs orders to perform.â
The angel spoke, and turnâd his eyes away, Adding new radiance to the rising day.
Now David comes: the fatal stones demand His left, the staff engagâd his better hand: The giant movâd, and from his towâring height Surveyâd the stripling, and disdainâd the fight, And thus began: âAm I a dog with thee? âBringâst thou no armour, but a staff to me? âThe gods on thee their vollied curses pour, âAnd beasts and birds of prey thy flesh devour.â
David undaunted thus, âThy spear and shield âShall no protection to thy body yield: âJehovahâs nameââno other arms I bear, âI ask no other in this glorious war. âTo-day the Lord of Hosts to me will give âVictâry, to-day thy doom thou shalt receive; âThe fate you threaten shall your own become, âAnd beasts shall be your animated tomb, âThat all the earthâs inhabitants may know âThat thereâs a God, who governs all below: âThis great assembly too shall witness stand, âThat needs nor sword, nor spear, thâ Almightyâs
hand: âThe battle his, the conquest he bestows, âAnd to our powâr consigns our hated foes.â
Thus David spoke; Goliath heard and came To meet the hero in the field of fame. Ah! fatal meeting to thy troops and thee, But thou wast deaf to the divine decree; Young David meets thee, meets thee not in vain; âTis thine to perish on thâ ensanguinâd plain.
And now the youth the forceful pebble slung Philistia trembled as it whizzâd along: In his dread forehead, where the helmet ends, Just oâer the brows the well-aimâd stone descends, It piercâd the skull, and shatterâd all the brain, Prone on his face he tumbled to the plain: Goliathâs fall no smaller terror yields Than riving thunders in aerial fields: The soul still lingâred in its lovâd abode, Till conqâring David oâer the giant strode: Goliathâs sword then laid its master dead, And from the body hewâd the ghastly head; The blood in gushing torrents drenchâd the plains, The soul found passage through the spouting veins.
And now aloud thâ illustrious victor said, âWhere are your boastings now your championâs
âdead?â Scarce had he spoke, when the Philistines fled: But fled in vain; the conquâror swift pursuâd: What scenes of slaughter! and what seas of blood! There Saul thy thousands graspâd thâ impurpled sand In pangs of death the conquest of thine hand; And David there were thy ten thousands laid: Thus Israelâs damsels musically playâd.
Near Gath and Edron many an hero lay, Breathâd out their souls, and cursâd the light of day: Their fury, quenchâd by death, no longer burns, And David with Goliathâs head returns, To Salem brought, but in his tent he placâd The load of armour which the giant gracâd. His monarch saw him coming from the war, And thus demanded of the son of Ner. âSay, who is this amazing youth?â he cryâd, When thus the leader of the host replyâd; âAs lives thy soul I know not whence he sprung, âSo great in prowess though in years so young:â âInquire whose son is he,â the sovâreign said, âBefore whose conqâring arm Philistia fled.â Before the king behold the stripling stand, Goliathâs head depending from his hand: To him the king: âSay of what martial line âArt thou, young hero, and what sire was thine?â He humbly thus; âThe son of Jesse I: âI came the glories of the field to try. âSmall is my tribe, but valiant in the fight; âSmall is my city, but thy royal right.â âThen take the promisâd gifts,â the monarch cryâd, Conferring riches and the royal bride: âKnit to my soul for ever thou remain âWith me, nor quit my regal roof again.â
Thoughts on the WORKS OF PROVIDENCE.
A R I S E, my soul, on wings enrapturâd, rise To praise the monarch of the earth and skies, Whose goodness and benificence appear As round its centre moves the rolling year, Or when the morning glows with rosy charms, Or the sun slumbers in the oceanâs arms: Of light divine be a rich portion lent To guide my soul, and favour my intend. Celestial muse, my arduous flight sustain And raise my mind to a seraphic strain!
Adorâd for ever be the God unseen, Which round the sun revolves this vast machine, Though to his eye its mass a point appears: Adorâd the God that whirls surrounding spheres, Which first ordainâd that mighty Sol should reign The peerless monarch of thâ ethereal train: Of miles twice forty millions is his height, And yet his radiance dazzles mortal sight So far beneathâfrom him thâ extended earth Vigour derives, and evâry flowâry birth: Vast through her orb she moves with easy grace Around her Phoebus in unbounded space; True to her course thâ impetuous storm derides, Triumphant oâer the winds, and surging tides.
Almighty, in these wondârous works of thine, What Powâr, what Wisdom, and what Goodness shine! And are thy wonders, Lord, by men explorâd, And yet creating glory unadorâd!
Creation smiles in various beauty gay, While day to night, and night succeeds to day: That Wisdom, which attends Jehovahâs ways, Shines most conspicuous in the solar rays: Without them, destitute of heat and light, This world would be the reign of endless night: In their excess how would our race complain, Abhorring life! how hate its lengthâned chain! From air adust what numârous ills would rise? What dire contagion taint the burning skies? What pestilential vapours, fraught with death, Would rise, and overspread the lands beneath?
Hail, smiling morn, that from the orient main Ascending dost adorn the heavânly plain! So rich, so various are thy beauteous dies, That spread through all the circuit of the skies, That, full of thee, my soul in rapture soars, And thy great God, the cause of all adores.
Oâer beings infinite his love extends, His Wisdom rules them, and his Powâr defends. When tasks diurnal tire the human frame, The spirits faint, and dim the vital flame, Then too that ever active bounty shines, Which not infinity of space confines. The sable veil, that Night in silence draws, Conceals effects, but shows thâ Almighty Cause, Night seals in sleep the wide creation fair, And all is peaceful but the brow of care. Again, gay Phoebus, as the day before, Wakes evâry eye, but what shall wake no more; Again the face of nature is renewâd, Which still appears harmonious, fair, and good. May grateful strains salute the smiling morn, Before its beams the eastern hills adorn!
Shall day to day, and night to night conspire To show the goodness of the Almighty Sire? This mental voice shall man regardless hear, And never, never raise the filial prayâr? To-day, O hearken, nor your folly mourn For time mispent, that never will return.
But see the sons of vegetation rise, And spread their leafy banners to the skies. All-wise Almighty Providence we trace In trees, and plants, and all the flowâry race; As clear as in the nobler frame of man, All lovely copies of the Makerâs plan. The powâr the same that forms a ray of light, That call d creation from eternal night. âLet there be light,â he said: from his profound Old Chaos heard, and trembled at the sound: Swift as the word, inspirâd by powâr divine, Behold the light around its Maker shine, The first fair product of thâ omnific God, And now through all his works diffusâd abroad.
As reasonâs powârs by day our God disclose, So we may trace him in the nightâs repose: Say what is sleep? and dreams how passing strange! When action ceases, and ideas range Licentious and unbounded oâer the plains, Where Fancyâs queen in giddy triumph reigns. Hear in soft strains the dreaming lover sigh To a kind fair, or rave in jealousy; On pleasure now, and now on vengeance bent, The labâring passions struggle for a vent. What powâr, O man! thy reason then restores, So long suspended in nocturnal hours? What secret hand returns the mental train, And gives improvâd thine active powârs again? From thee, O man, what gratitude should rise! And, when from balmy sleep thou opâst thine eyes, Let thy first thoughts be praises to the skies. How merciful our God who thus imparts Oâerflowing tides of joy to human hearts, When wants and woes might be our righteous lot, Our God forgetting, by our God forgot!
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