Classic Poem

As God, who now does, as in Times of old,
His high Behests to righteous Men unfold;
And from thick Mists, purging the visual Ray,
Beams on his chosen Sons celestial Day;
Late to the pious Prelate, YORK, reveal'd
What, from the Sons of Belial , lay conceal'd;
The Many, flown, with Insolence and Wine,
Unfit, such Ears, to hear of Things divine.

Behold, oh chosen Messenger of Grace!
Said God, the Wickedness of human Race!
Britain , behold, my once-lov'd fav'rite Isle,
Lo, all Impurities her Face defile!
Why are there Pray'rs, or public Fasts proclaim'd?
My Pow'r is mock'd at, and my Word blasphem'd;
Think they, vile Worms! with Arts or glossing Lies ,
To " scape my Vengeance, or deceive my Eyes?
No; as to Idol Lusts their Bodies bow,
So shall their Limbs the foreign Fields bestrew,
Nay, ev'n the proud Metropolis, shall feel
The red-hot Vengeance, and the murd'rous Steel.

Then, holy YORK, the Lord of Life bespoke:
Oh, gracious God! this dread Decree revoke;
Wilt Thou, with Wisdom, Justice, Mercy crown'd,
Alike the Virtuous and the Vile confound?
Twenty, perhaps, in Britain may'st Thou find,
Who keep thy Laws and write them on their Mind;
All, sure, shall perish, by Thy mighty Word,
But wilt Thou speak in Wrath?- far be it from Thee, Lord.
To him JEHOVAH: By Myself, I swear,
For Twenty's Sake, the Kingdom will I spare.
Oh, be not angry, while I plead again,
Perhaps not Twenty may be found, but Ten;
Ten men, whom no Temptation can subdue,
True to Religion, to it's Altars true.
To him, JEHOVAH: As thy Soul doth live,
Find me but One, and England I forgive.

View then, oh Lord! yon Minister of State,
See him, in ev'ry Action Good and Great;
Stemming Corruption, with an out-stretch'd Hand;
Who, but Himself the Torrent can withstand?
See Him, like Nile , diffusing Bounty round,
To bless a barren, an ungrateful Ground;
Thro' various Channels, Pleasure to impart,
To raise the Fall'n, to chear the dying Heart;
Too oft, alas! in the translucent Wave
Do Crocodiles and wily Serpents lave,
Studious to poison the delightful Stream,
Which unpollute flows on; — and mindful whence it came,
Conscious of Thee, it's sacred hidden Source,
To re-unite thy Bounty, bends it's Force.

Wisely thou speak'st, the living Lord reply'd,
Nor be thou, righteous Advocate, denied;
Superior Worth arrests the lifted Rod,
So dear is virtue in the Sight of God;
Nor will I Vengeance on the Guilty take,
But England spare, for York and Pelham's Sake.