A paraphrase on the book of Job as likewise on the songs of Moses, Deborah, David, on four select psalms, some chapters of Isaiah, and the third chapter of Habakkuk / by Sir Richard Blackmore.

THE Second PSALM PARAPHRAS'D.

WHat means this mighty Uproar? whence arise This great Commotion, these tumultuous Crys? What has alarm'd the Nations? what offence Does all the jealous States around incense? What does the Heathen Fire with so much Rage? What Iacob's Sons in such Designs engage As they can ne'er effect, or if they do, They'll miss the end they furiously pursue? Infatuated Men! you'll sure repent Your rash Attempts, too late the sad event Will show your Projects vain, your Malice impotent. Confed'rate Princes wicked Friendship make, And in their Anger desp'rate Councels take Against their great Creator and his Son, And hope the Lord's Anointed to dethrone.

Let us, say they, assert our Liberty, And keep our Kingdoms from Oppression free. We'll ne'er agree to vindicate the Cause Of this new King, nor e'er obey his Laws.

Th' Almighty sets his Fav'rite up in vain, We'll ne'er consent to this Usurper's Reign. We his proud Yoke will never tamely bear, But will his servile Chains asunder tear.

But the great God who sits enthron'd on high, Above the Starry Convex of the Sky, Insultingly will mock their foolish Pride, Laugh at their Threats, and their vain Plots deride. In fiery Indignation, he shall pass A dreadful Sentence on this impious Race. The marks of high Displeasure he shall show, And pour Destruction on th' audacious Foe.

Thus from his Throne sublime th' Eternal spoke, And with his awful Voice the Frame of Nature shook, In spite of all the Princes that combine, Or to retard, or frustrate my design; On Sion's Hill my Fav'rite I'll enthrone, And fix upon his Head th' Imperial Crown. Submissive States his Empire shall obey, And at his Footstool Kings their Scepters lay. He shall Tyrannic Cruelty correct, And tenderly his Subject's Rights protect. He shall assert Divine Religion's Cause, Heav'n's sacred Int'rests manage with Applause, And rule the World with just and equal Laws. To execute his high important Charge, My Viceroy I invest with Pow'r at large:

Vast Pow'r I give him, but I give him none, But what is mixt with Mercy like my own. No other Pow'r, but what is understood To be intended for his Subjects good. His just and gentle Conduct shall confess, He seeks his Glory in their Happiness.

I to the World will publish thy Decree, That raises me to Regal Dignity. Thus said the Lord, let it this Day be known, That thou art my begotten only Son, Thy high Descent let all the Nations own. Thou art intitul'd by thy Royal Birth, To all the Realms and Nations of the Earth: Make thy demand, and by my Grant divine, The Pagan States and Kingdoms shall be thine. I'll subject all the spacious tracks of Land, From Pole to Pole to thy supream command▪ Thou shalt of all the Regions be possest, From the Sun's rising to the adverse West. Only the limits which the World surround, Thy Universal Monarchy shall bound. Arm'd with a Rod of Iron thou shalt reign O'er proud Oppressors, and their Rage restrain. Thou shalt in pieces dash, like Potters Clay, Thy stubborn Foes, who insolently say, We'll ne'er his Title own, nor his Commands obey.

Ye foolish Kings and Potentates be wise, And be instructed where your Safety lies.

The Son of God with Acclamations meet, And prostrate lye adoring at his feet. Bow down your Necks to take his gentle Yoke, Lest your neglect his Fury should provoke. If you refuse this Monarch to obey, Be sure you'll perish in your wicked way. For if his Wrath so dreadful does appear, When scarcely kindled, what have you to fear Who by your desp'rate Provocations raise The Spark to Flames, and make his Fury blaze? No longer your Subjection then delay, The safe and happy Men are only they Who as their Refuge and secure Defence, Repose in him their Trust and Confidence.