But the ne'r-sleeping Providence that stands
With jealous Eyes o're Truths up-lifted Hands;
That still in its Lord _Israel_ takes delight,
Their Cloud by Day, and Guardian Fire by Night;
A Ray from out its Fiery Pillar cast,
That overlook'd their driving _Jehu_'s hast.
All's ruin'd and betray'd: their own false Slaves }
Detect the Plot, and dig their Masters Graves: }
Not Oaths nor Bribes shall bind, when great _Jehovah_ saves. }
The frighted _Israelites_ take the Alarm,
Resolve the Traitors Sorceries t'uncharm:
Till cursing, raving, mad, and drunk with Rage,
In _Amnons_ Blood their frantick Hands engage.

Here let the Ghost of strangl'd _Amnon_ come,
A Specter that will strike Amazement dumb;
_Amnon_ the Proto-Martyr of the Plot,
The Murder'd _Amnon_, their Eternal Blot;
Whose too bold zeal stood like a _Pharos_ Light,
_Israel_ to warn, and track their Deeds of Night.
Till the sly Foe his unseen Game to play,
Put out the Beacon to secure his way.
_Baals_ Cabinet-Intrigues he open spread,
The Ravisht _Tamar_ for whose sake he bled.
T'unveil their Temple and expose their Gods,
Deserv'd their vengeances severest Rods:
Wrath he deserv'd, and had the Vial full,
To lay those Devils had possest his Soul.
His silenc'd Fiends from his wrung Neck they twist;