Page:Poetical Works of John Oldham.djvu/65



H wretched Israel! once blessed and happy state, The darling of the stars, and heaven's care, Then all the bordering world thy vassals were, And thou at once their envy and their fear, How soon art thou, alas! by the sad turn of fate Become abandoned and forlorn! How art thou now become their pity, and their scorn! Thy lustre all is vanished, all thy glory fled, Thy sun himself set in a blood red, Too sure prognostic! which does ill portend Approaching storms on thy unhappy land, Left naked, and defenceless now to each invading hand, A fatal battle, lately fought, Has all these miseries and misfortunes brought, Has thy quick ruin and destruction wrought: There fell we, by a mighty overthrow, A prey to an enraged, relentless foe, The toil and labour of their wearied cruelty, Till they no more could kill, and we no longer die: Vast slaughter all around the enlargèd mountain swells, And numerous deaths increase its former hills. In Gath let not the mournful news be known, Nor published in the streets of Askalon; May fame itself be quite struck dumb! Oh! I may it never to Philistia come, Nor any live to bear the cursèd tidings home!