Ye sages, plac’d on judgment’s awful seat,
Say, is your process just, without deceit?
Ah no! your hearts in villain-schemes are strong,
And with the shew of equity you wrong,
E’en from your infant-years from truth you stray’d,
And the vile dictates of your hearts obey’d.
Beneath your tongues a deadly poison lies,
Your ears you stop, when heav’nly wisdom cries,
So the fly asp, when music gives th’ alarm,
Fears, ’tis the magic of some pow’rful charm.
But thou their teeth, O sov’reign ruler, bruize;
Thy justice sure the savage race pursues;
They bend the bow, the guiltless to deftroy;
O break their shafts, or let them fruitless fly,
As ‘mid the pebbles flows the stream away,
So with a swift destruction vanish they:
Yes; let them melt, as melts the slow-pac’d snail;
Let death’s grim horrid pow’r their souls assail;
Yes; vanish they like an abortive birth,
And tread no more with haughty steps the earth.
Nor let their off-spring long enjoy the day;
But with thy whirlwinds sweep them quick away;
Let them the fury of thine anger bear,
Ere crackling thorns evaporate in air.
The righteous shall thy awful vengeance see,
And own with joy thy glorious equity;
He in their impious blood shall wash his feet,
And say, “The justice of our God is great;
“That he our actions not indiff’rent views,
“But with strict vengeance wicked man pursues;
“That he a life of sanctity regards,
“And with his choicest gifts that life rewards.”