Joch.

Pharaoh's daughter?

His life is safe;

Then still he will be slain: a bloodier death
Will terminate his woes.

Mir.

For know, she means to rear him as her own.
Joch. (Falls on her knees in rapture.)

To God, the Lord, the glory be ascrib'd!

O magnify'd for ever be THY might,

Who mock'st all human forethought! who o'errul'st
The hearts of sinners to perform thy work,
Defeating their own purpose; who canst plant
Unlook'd-for mercy in a heathen's heart,

And from the depth of evil bring forth good! [She rises.
Mir. O blest event, beyond our warmest hopes!
Joch. What! shall my son be nurtur'd in a court,
In princely grandeur bred? taught every art
And every wondrous science Egypt knows?
Yet, ah! I tremble, Miriam ; should he learn,
With Egypt's polish'd arts her baneful faith!
O worse exchange for death! yes, should he learn
In yon proud palace to disown His hand

Who thus has saved him: should he e'er embrace
{As sure he will, if bred in Pharaoh's court)
The gross idolatries which Egypt owns,

Her graven images, her brutish gods,

Then shall I wish he had not been preserv'd

To shame his fathers, and deny his faith.

Mir. Then to dispel thy fears and crown thy joy, Hear farther wonders.-Know, the gen'rous Princess To thine own care thy darling child commits.

Joch. Speak, while my joy will give me leave to listen! Mir. By her commission'd, thou behold'st me here, To seek a matron of the Hebrew race

To nurse him: thou, my mother, art that matron.
I said I knew thee well; that thou wouldst rear him
E'en with a mother's fondness; she who bare him
(1 told the Princess) would not love him more.

Joch. Fountain of mercy! whose pervading eye
Can look within and read what passes there,
Accept my thoughts for thanks! I have no words.
My soul, o'erfraught with gratitude, rejects
The aid of language-Lord! behold my heart.
Mir. Yes, thou shalt pour into his infant mind
The purest precepts of the purest faith.

Joch. O! I will fill his tender soul with virtue,
And warm his bosom with devotion's flame!
Aid me, celestial Spirit! with thy grace,

And be my labours with thy influence crown'd!
Without it they were vain. Then, then, my Miriam,
When he is furnish'd, 'gainst the evil day,

With God's whole armour,* girt with sacred truth,
And as a breastplate wearing righteousness,
Arm'd with the Spirit of God, the shield of faith,
And with the helmet of salvation crown'd,
Inur'd to watching and dispos'd to prayer;
Then may I send him to a dang'rous court,
And safely trust him in a per❜lous world,

Too full of tempting snares and fond delusions!

Mir. May bounteous Heaven thy pious cares reward! Joch. O Amram! O my husband! when thou com'st Wearied at night, to rest thee from the toils Impos'd by haughty Pharaoh, what a tale Have I to tell thee! Yes: thy darling son

Was lost, and is restor'd; was dead, and lives!

Mir. How joyful shall we spend the live-long night

In praises to Jehovah; who thus mocks

All human foresight, and converts the means

Of seeming ruin into great deliverance!

Joch. Had not my child been doom'd to such strange perils

As a fond mother trembles to recall,

He had not been preserv'd.

Mir.

And mark still farther;

Had he been sav'd by any other hand,

He had been still expos'd to equal ruin.

Joch. Then let us join to bless the hand of Heaven,
That this poor outcast of the house of Israel,
Condemn'd to die by Pharaoh, kept in secret
By my advent'rous fondness; then expos'd
E'en by that very fondness which conceal'd him,
Is now, to fill the wondrous round of mercy,
Preserv'd from perishing by Pharaoh's daughter,
Saved by the very hand which sought to crush him!
Wise and unsearchable are all thy ways,
Thou God of mercies!-Lead me to my child!

2 Thess. v. Ephes. vi.

DAVID AND GOLIATH:

A Sacred Brama.

O bienheureux mille fois,
L'Enfant que le Seigneur aime,
Qui de bonne heure entend sa voix,
Et que ce Dieu daigne instruire lui-même!
Loin du monde élevé; de tous les dons des Cienz,
Il est orné dès sa naissance;

Et du méchant l'abord contagieux

N'altère point son innocence.-Athalie.

The Scene lies in the Camp in the Valley of Elah, and the

adjacent Plain.

The subject is taken from the Seventeenth Chapter of the First Book of Samuel.

PART I.

Scene.-A Shepherd's Tent on a Plain.

David, under a spreading tree, plays on his harp and sings.

I.

GREAT Lord of all things! Power divine!
Breathe on this erring heart of mine

Thy grace serene and pure;

Defend my frail, my erring youth,
And teach me this important truth,
The humble are secure!

II.

Teach me to bless my lowly lot,
Confin'd to this paternal cot,

Remote from regal state!

Content to court the cooling glade,
Inhale the breeze, enjoy the shade,
And love my humble fate.

III.

No anxious vigils here I keep,
No dreams of gold distract my sleep,
Nor lead my heart astray;

Nor blasting envy's tainted gale
Pollutes the pleasures of the vale,

To vex my harmless day.

IV.

Yon tower, which rears its head so high,
And bids defiance to the sky,

Invites the hostile winds:

Yon branching oak extending wide,
Provokes destruction by its pride,

And courts the fall it finds.

V.

Then let me shun th' ambitious deed,
And all the dangerous paths which lead
To honours falsely won:

Lord! in thy sure protection blest,

Submissive will I ever rest,

And may thy will be done!

[He lays down his harp and rises.

Dav. Methinks this shepherd's life were dull and tasteless

Without the charm of soothing song or harp :
With it, not undelightful is the haunt

Of wood, or lonely grove, or russet plain,
Made vocal by the muse. With this lov'd harp,
This daily solace of my cares, I sooth'd
The melancholy monarch, when he lay
Smit by the chill and spirit-quenching hand
Of black despair. God of my fathers, hear me !
Here I devote my harp, my verse, myself,

To thy blest service! gladly to proclaim
Glory to God on high, on earth goodwill
To man; to pour my grateful soul before thee;
To sing thy power, thy wisdom, and thy love,
And ev'ry gracious attribute; to paint

The charms of heaven-born virtue! So shall I
Though with long interval of worth) aspire
To imitate the work of saints above,
Of cherub and of seraphim. My heart,
My talents, all I am, and all I have,

Is thine, O Father! Gracious Lord, accept
The humble dedication! Offer'd gifts
Of slaughter'd bulls and goats sacrifical
Thou hast refus'd: but, lo, I come, O Lord!
To do thy will; the living sacrifice

Of an obedient heart I lay before thee:

This humble off'ring more shall please thee, Lord,
Than horned bullocks, ceremonial rites,

New moons, and sabbaths, passovers, and fasts!
Yet those I too will keep; but not in lieu
Of holiness substantial, inward worth;
As commutation cheap for pious deeds
And purity of life, but as the types
Of better things; as fair external signs
Of inward holiness and secret truth.

But see, my father, good old Jesse, comes! To cheer the setting evening of whose life, Content, a simple shepherd here I dwell, Though Israel is in arms; and royal Saul, Encamp'd in yonder field, defies Philistia.

JESSE, DAVID.

Jes. Blest be the gracious Power who gave my age To boast a son like thee ! Thou art the staff

Which props my bending years, and makes me bear The heavy burden of declining age

With fond complacence. How unlike thy fate,

O venerable Eli! But two sons,

But only two to gild the dim remains

Of life's departing day, and bless thy age,

And both were curses to thee! Witness, Heaven,

In all the cruel catalogue of pains

Humanity turns o'er, if there be one