Who with their Venom over-spread thy Soil,
Those Scorpions of the State, present their Oyl.
So the World's Saviour, like a Mortal drest,
Altho' by daily Miracles confest,
Accus'd of Evil Doctrine by the Jews,
Their righful Lord they impiously refuse;
But when they saw such Terror in the Skies,
The Temple rent, their King in Glory rise,
Dread and Amazement seiz'd the trembling Crowd,
Who, conscious of their Crime, adoring bow’d.
To the King.
THO' train'd in Arms, and learn'd in Martial Arts,
Thou chusest not to conquer Men, but Hearts.
Expecting Nations for thy Triumphs wait,
But thou prefer'st the Name of Just to Great.
So Jove suspends his subject World to doom,
Which, wou'd he please to thunder, he’d consume.
O! cou'd the Ghosts of mighty Heroes dead
Return to Earth, and quit th' Elysian Shade,
Brutus to James wou'd trust the Peoples Cause;
Thy Justice is a stronger Guard than Laws:
