Ah, worthy Prince! would I for thee had dyed!
Ah, would I had thy fatal place supplied!
I'd then repaid a Life, which to thy gift I owe,
Repaid a Crown, which Friendship taught thee to forgo;
Both Debts, I ne'er can cancel now:
Oh, dearer than my Soul! if I can call it mine,
For sure we had the same, 'twas very thine,
Dearer than Light, or Life, or Fame,
Or Crowns, or any thing, that I can wish, or think, or name:
Brother thou wast, but wast my Friend before,
And that new Title then could add no more:

Oh Death! how vast an Harvest hast thou reap'd of late!
Never before hadst thou so great,
Ne'er drunk'st before so deep of Jewish Blood,
Ne're since th'embattled Hosts at Gibean stood;
When three' whole days took up the work of Fate,
When a large Tribe enter'd at once thy Bill,
And threescore thousand Victims to thy Fury fell.
Upon the fatal Mountains Head,

Mourn, wretched Israel , mourn thy Monarch's fall,
And all thy plenteous stock of sorrow call,
T'attend his pompous Funeral:
Mourn each, who in this loss an int'rest shares,
Lavish your Grief, exhaust it all in Tears:
You Hebrew Virgins too,
Who once in lofty strains did his glad Triumphs sing,
Bring all your artful Notes, and skilful Measures now,
Each charming air of Breath and string,

DAVID'S LAMENTATION

Both excellent they were, both equally alli'd
On Nature, and on Valour's side:
Great Saul , who scorn'd a Rival in Renown,
Yet envied not the Fame of's greater Son,
By him, endur'd to be surpass'd alone:
He gallant Prince, did his whole Father shew,
And fast, as he could set, the well-writ Copies drew,

Nor less in high Repute and Worth was his great Son,
Sole Heir of all his Valour and Renown,
Heir too (if cruel Fate had suffer'd) of his Throne:
The matchless Jonathan 'twas, whom loud-tongu'd Fame
Amongst her chiefest Heroes Joys to name,
E're since the wond'rous Deeds at Seneh done,
Where he, himself an Host, o'recame a War alone:
The trembling Enemies fled, they try'd to fly,

Lo! there the mighty Warriour lyes,
With all his Lawrels, all his Victories,
To ravenous Fowls, or worse, to his proud Foes, a Prize:
How chang'd from that great Saul! whose generous Aid,
A conqu'ring Army to distressed Jabesh led,
At whose approach Ammon 's proud Tyrant fled:
How chang'd from that great Saul ! whom we saw bring
From vanquish'd Amalek their captive Spoils and King;

For ever, Gilboa , be curst thy hated Name,
Th'eternal Monument of our Disgrace and Shame!
For ever curst be that unhappy Scene,
Where Slaughter, Blood, and Death did lately reign!
No Clouds henceforth above thy barren top appear,
But what may make thee mourning wear:
Let them ne're shake their dewy Fleeces there,
But only once a year
On the sad Anniverse drop a remembring Tear:

In Gath let not the mournful News be known,
Nor publish'd in the streets of Askalon ;
May Fame it self be quite struck dumb!
Oh may it never to Philistia come,
Nor any live to bear the cursed Tidings home!
Lest the proud Enemies new Trophies raise,
And loudly triumph in our fresh Disgrace:
No captive Israelite their pompous Joy adorn,

A H wretched Israel! once a bless'd, and happy State,
The Darling of the Stars, and Heavens Care,
Then all the bord'ring world thy Vassals were,
And thou at once their Envy and their Fear,
How soon art thou (alas!) by the sad turn of Fate
Become abandon'd and forlorn?
How art thou now become their Pity, and their scorn?
Thy Lustre all is vanish'd, all thy Glory fled,

New South Wales

For miles the Illawarra range
Runs level with Pacific seas:
What glory when the morning breeze
Upon its slopes doth shift and change
Deep pink and crimson hues, till all
The leagues-long distance seems a wall
Of swift uncurling flames of fire
That wander not nor reach up higher.