As, when pent vapours run their hollow round, Earthquakes, which are convulsions of the ground, Break bellowing forth, and no confinement brook, Till the third settles what the former shook; Such heavings had our souls; till, slow and late, Our life with his return'd, and Faith prevail'd on Fate. By prayers the mighty blessing was implored, To prayers was granted, and by prayers restored. 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.