Here let the Ghost of strangl'd _Amnon_ come, A Specter that will strike Amazement dumb; _Amnon_ the Proto-Martyr of the Plot, The Murder'd _Amnon_, their Eternal Blot; Whose too bold zeal stood like a _Pharos_ Light, _Israel_ to warn, and track their Deeds of Night. Till the sly Foe his unseen Game to play, Put out the Beacon to secure his way. _Baals_ Cabinet-Intrigues he open spread, The Ravisht _Tamar_ for whose sake he bled. T'unveil their Temple and expose their Gods, Deserv'd their vengeances severest Rods: Wrath he deserv'd, and had the Vial full, To lay those Devils had possest his Soul. His silenc'd Fiends from his wrung Neck they twist; Whilst his kind Murd'rer's but his Exorcist. Here draw, bold Painter, (if thy Pencil dare Unshaking write, what _Israel_ quak'd to hear,) A Royal Altar pregnant with a Load Of Humane Bones beneath a Breaden God. Altars so rich not _Molocks_ Temples show; 'Twas Heaven above, and _Golgotha_ below. Yet are not all the Mystick Rites yet done: Their pious Fury does not stop so soon. But to pursue the loud-tongu'd Wounds they gave, Resolves to stab his Fame beyond the Grave, And in Eternal Infamy to brand With _Amnons_ Murder, _Amnons_ righteous Hand. Here with a Bloodless wound, by Hellish Art, With his own Sword they goar his Lifeless Heart. Thus in a Ditch the butcher'd _Amnon_ lay, A Deed of Night enough to have kept back the Day. Had not the Sun in Sacred vengeance rose, Asham'd to see, but prouder to disclose, Warm'd with new Fires, with all his posting speed, Brought Heav'ns bright Lamp to shew th'Infernal Deed. What art thou, Church! when Faith to propagate, And crush all Bars that stop thy growing state, Thou break'st through Natures, Gods, and Humane Laws, Whilst Murder's Merit in a Churches Cause. How much thy Ladder _Jacobs_ does excel: Whose Top's in Heaven like His, but Foot in Hell; Thy Causes bloody Champions to befriend, For Fiends to Mount, as Angels to Descend. This was the stroke did th'alarm'd World surprize, And even to infidelity lent Eyes: Whilst sweating _Absolon_ in _Israel_ pent, For fresher Air was to bleak _Hebron_ sent. Cold _Hebron_ warm'd by his approaching sight, Flusht with his Gold, and glow'd with new delight. Till Sacred all-converting Interest To Loyalty, their almost unknown Guest, Oped a broad Gate, from whence forth-issuing come, Decrees, Tests, Oaths, for well-sooth'd _Absolom_. Spight of that Guilt that made even Angels fall, An unbarr'd Heir shall Reign: In spight of all Apostacy from Heav'n, or Natures tyes, Though for his Throne a _Cain_-built Palace rise. No wonder _Hebron_ such Devotion bears T'Imperial Dignity, and Royal Heirs; For they, whom Chronicle so high renowns For selling Kings, should know the price of Crowns.