The Story of Ananias

See Peter there, who by his fatal Breath
At once gave Sentence, and inflicted Death:
His Eyes just Zeal and Indignation wear,
Such awful Frowns his Face and such an Air,
As all to Heav'n's Commissioner allow,
While Justice sate vindictive on his Brow.

See Ananias there resigns his Breath;
How Raphael lives in that Immortal Death!
Down the Dissembler fell amid'st the Crowd,
As struck with Flashes from an opening Cloud,
Or deadly Damps, which Caves beneath prepare,
Or suddain Blasts of red malignant Air.
Mark how his Eyes resist invading Night,
And labour to detain retreating Light;
Swimming in Clouds, they seek the doubtful Day,
And sinking deep in Shades, Hold eager lay
On every glimm'ring Streak and every broken Ray.
His Mouth still seems to mutter in the Dust,
Some second Falshood, to excuse the first:
His quiv'ring Lips of Life th' Appearance wear;
But to believe the Hypocrite forbear,
For by the Painter's Art they dead deceive,
And false, as living, wrong Impressions leave.

Observe attentive round th' Apostles spread
The thick Assembly seiz'd with shiv'ring Dread,
Who look surpriz'd, and at the wond'rous Sight,
Seem to start back, and own their great Affright.
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