Till the third settles what the former shook; Such heavings had our souls, till, slow and late, Our life with his returned, and faith prevailed on fate. By prayers the mighty blessing was implored, To prayers was granted, and by prayers restored. So, ere the Shunamite a son conceived, 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 approached the mournful door, Ran, prayed, and sent his pastoral staff before, Then stretched his limbs upon the child, and mourned, Till warmth, and breath, and a new soul returned.[326] Thus mercy stretches out her hand, and saves Desponding Peter, sinking in the waves. As when a sudden storm of hail and rain Beats to the ground the yet unbearded grain, Think not the hopes of harvest are destroyed 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, 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 pampered 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, 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 sinned, impenitently hard, And vainly thought the present ark their guard;[327] But when the haughty Philistines appear, } They fled, abandoned to their foes and fear; } Their God was absent, though his ark was there.} Ah! lest our crimes should snatch this pledge away, And make our joys the blessings of a day! For we have sinned 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[328] can rout the chosen bands, While Hur and Aaron hold up Moses' hands. By living well, let us secure his days, Moderate in hopes, and humble in our ways. No force the free-born spirit can constrain, But charity, and great examples gain. Forgiveness is our thanks for such a day; 'Tis godlike God in his own coin to pay. But you, propitious queen, translated here, }