Nay, and there was a Time, had Hell prevail'd,
Nor Perjury and Subornation fail'd,
When a long List of Names, for Treason doom'd,
Had _Israels_ Patriots in one Grave entomb'd:
A List, with such fair Loyal Colours laid,
Even to no less than Royal Hands convey'd.
And the great Mover in this pious Fraud,
A Dungeon Slave redeem'd by'a Midnight Bawd:
Then made by Art a Swearer of Renown,
Nurst and embrac'd by th'Heir of _Judahs_ Crown:
Encourag'd too by Pension for Reward,
With his forg'd Scrowls for Guiltless Blood prepared.
Poor Engine for a greatness so sublime: }
But oh, a Cause by which their _Baal_ must climb, }
Ennobles both the Actor and the Crime. }

Yet This, and all Things else now quite blown o're,
And _Absolom_, his _Israels_ Fear no more:
Luster and Pride shall hem his radiant Brow;
All Knees shall fall, and prostrate Nations bow.
By Heav'ns, he is, he will, he must, he shall
Be _Israels_ Heroe, Friend, Saint, Idol, all.
What though provok'd with all the crying sins
Of Murmuring Slaves, excluding Sanedrins:
By profane Crowds in dirt his Prophets spurn'd,
And ev'n his Gods in mock Processions burn'd:
Himself from _Israel_ into _Hebron_ sent,
And doom'd to little less than Banishment.
In spight of all his Scrowls to _Babylon_; }