Part 4 (1/2)

THE

FOREIGNERS.

A

POEM.

PART I.

_LONDON_,

Printed for _A. Baldwin_ in _Warwicklane_,

MDCC.

The Foreigners.

Long time had _Israel_ been disus'd from Rest, Long had they been by Tyrants sore opprest; Kings of all sorts they ignorantly crav'd, And grew more stupid as they were enslav'd; Yet want of Grace they impiously disown'd, And still like Slaves beneath the Burden groan'd: With languid Eyes their Race of Kings they view, The Bad too many, and the Good too few; Some rob'd their Houses, and destroy'd their Lives, Ravish'd their Daughters, and debauch'd their Wives; Prophan'd the Altars with polluted Loves, And wors.h.i.+p'd Idols in the Woods and Groves.

To Foreign Nations next they have recourse; Striving to mend, they made their State much worse.

They first from _Hebron_ all their Plagues did bring, Cramm'd in the Single Person of a King; From whose base Loins ten thousand Evils flow, Which by Succession they must undergo.

Yet sense of Native Freedom still remains, They fret and grumble underneath their Chains; Incens'd, enrag'd, their Pa.s.sion do's arise, Till at his Palace-Gate their Monarch dies.

This Glorious Feat was by the Fathers done, Whose Children next depos'd his Tyrant Son, Made him, like _Cain_, a murd'rous Wanderer, Both of his Crimes, and of his Fortunes share.

But still resolv'd to split on Foreign Shelves, Rather than venture once to trust Themselves, To Foreign Courts and Councils do resort, To find a King their Freedoms to support: Of one for mighty Actions fam'd they're told, Profoundly wise, and desperately bold, Skilful in War, Successful still in Fight, Had vanquish'd Hosts, and Armies put to flight; And when the Storms of War and Battels cease, Knew well to steer the s.h.i.+p of State in Peace.

Him they approve, approaching to their sight; Lov'd by the G.o.ds, of Mankind the Delight.

The numerous Tribes resort to see him land, Cover the Beach, and blacken all the Strand; With loud Huzza's they welcome him on sh.o.r.e, And for their Blessing do the G.o.ds implore.

The Sanhedrim conven'd, at length debate The sad Condition of their drooping State, And Sinking Church, just ready now to drown; And with one Shout they do the Hero crown.

Ah Happy _Israel_! had there never come Into his Councils crafty Knaves at home, In combination with a Foreign Brood, Sworn Foes to _Israel_'s Rights and _Israel_'s Good; Who impiously foment Intestine Jars, Exhaust our Treasure, and prolong our Wars; Make _Israel_'s People to themselves a prey, Mislead their King, and steal his Heart away: United Intrests thus they do divide, The State declines by Avarice and Pride; Like Beasts of Prey they ravage all the Land, Acquire Preferments, and usurp Command: The Foreign Inmates the Housekeepers spoil, And drain the Moisture of our fruitful Soil.

If to our Monarch there are Honours due, Yet what with _Gibeonites_ have we to do?

When Foreign States employ 'em for their Food, To draw their Water, and to hew their Wood.

What Mushroom Honours dos our Soil afford!

One day a Begger, and the next a Lord.

What dastard Souls do _Jewish_ n.o.bles wear!

The Commons such Affronts would never bear.

Let no Historian the sad Stories tell Of thy base Sons, Oh servile _Israel_!

But thou, my Muse, more generous and brave, Shalt their black Crimes from dark oblivion save; To future Ages shalt their Sins disclose, And brand with Infamy thy Nation's Foes.

A Country lies, due East from _Judah_'s Sh.o.a.r, Where stormy Winds and noisy Billows roar; A Land much differing from all other Soils, Forc'd from the Sea, and b.u.t.tress'd up with Piles.

No marble Quarrys bind the spungy Ground, But Loads of Sand and c.o.c.kle-sh.e.l.ls are found: Its Natives void of Honesty and Grace, A Boorish, rude, and an inhumane Race; From Nature's Excrement their Life is drawn, Are born in Bogs, and nourish'd up from Sp.a.w.n.

Their hard-smoak'd Beef is their continual Meat, Which they with Rusk, their luscious Manna, eat; Such Food with their chill stomachs best agrees, They sing _Hosannah_ to a Mare's-milk Cheese.

To supplicate no G.o.d, their Lips will move, Who speaks in Thunder like Almighty _Jove_, But watry Deities they do invoke, Who from the Marshes most Divinely croak.

Their Land, as if asham'd their Crimes to see, Dives down beneath the surface of the Sea.

_Neptune_, the G.o.d who do's the Seas command, Ne'er stands on Tip-toe to descry their Land; But seated on a Billow of the Sea, With Ease their humble Marshes do's survey.