So, ere the Shunamite[183] a son conceived, 250
  The prophet promised, and the wife believed. 
  A son was sent, the son so much desired;
  But soon upon the mother’s knees expired. 
  The troubled seer approach’d the mournful door,
  Ran, pray’d, and sent his pastoral staff before,
  Then stretch’d his limbs upon the child, and mourn’d,

    Thus Mercy stretches out her hand, and saves
  Desponding Peter sinking in the waves.

    As when a sudden storm of hail and rain 260
  Beats to the ground the yet unbearded grain,
  Think not the hopes of harvest are destroy’d
  On the flat field, and on the naked void;
  The light unloaded stem, from tempest freed,
  Will raise the youthful honours of his head;
  And soon, restored by native vigour, bear
  The timely product of the bounteous year.

    Nor yet conclude all fiery trials past: 
  For Heaven will exercise us to the last;
  Sometimes will check us in our full career, 270
  With doubtful blessings, and with mingled fear;
  That, still depending on his daily grace,
  His every mercy for an alms may pass,
  With sparing hands will diet us to good;
  Preventing surfeits of our pamper’d blood. 
  So feeds the mother bird her craving young
  With little morsels, and delays them long.

   True, this last blessing was a royal feast;
  But where’s the wedding-garment on the guest? 
  Our manners, as religion were a dream, 280
  Are such as teach the nations to blaspheme. 
  In lusts we wallow, and with pride we swell,
  And injuries with injuries repel;
  Prompt to revenge, not daring to forgive,
  Our lives unteach the doctrine we believe. 
  Thus Israel sinn’d, impenitently hard,
  And vainly thought the present ark their guard;[184]
  But when the haughty Philistines appear,
  They fled, abandon’d to their foes and fear;
  Their God was absent, though his ark was there. 290
  Ah! lest our crimes should snatch this pledge away,
  And make our joys the blessings of a day! 
  For we have sinn’d him hence, and that he lives,
  God to his promise, not our practice gives. 
  Our crimes would soon weigh down the guilty scale,
  But James and Mary, and the Church, prevail. 
  Nor Amalek can rout the chosen bands,[185]
  While Hur and Aaron hold up Moses’ hands.

   By living well, let us secure his days;
  Moderate in hopes, and humble in our ways, 300
  No force the free-born spirit can constrain,
  But charity and great examples gain. 
  Forgiveness is our thanks for such a day: 
  ’Tis god-like God in his own coin to pay.