Classic Poem

PART I.

M Y heart a noble theme indites:
What I compose concerns the king:
My tongue the swistest pen that writes
Outvies, while I attempt to sing.

None among all the human race
Like thee for loveliness appears:
Thy lips, bedew'd with heavenly grace,
Ravish each wondring soul that hears.
For God will ever from on high
His constant blessings thee afford.
O mighty one, upon thy thigh
Make haste to gird thy conquering sword.

Thy majesty and glory show:
Along in prosperous grandeur ride:
Let meekness, truth, and justice go
In solemn triumph by thy side.

Thy right hand, vers'd in warlike arts,
Thee terrible exploits shall teach:
O king, thy foes rebellious hearts
Thy keenest darts shall surely reach:

The nations under thee shall fall.
Thy throne, O God, shall stand secure;
And, as its power extends o'er all,
It shall for evermore endure.

The scepter of thy kingdom proves
A scepter of impartial right:
Thy soul unspotted justice loves,
And sin is odious in thy sight.

For God, thy God, in plenteous showers
On thee the oil of gladness sheds:
More of that holy ointment pours
On thine, than thy companions heads.

Myrrh, aloes, cassia, rich perfumes
Thy robes of glory more expire,
When passing from the ivory rooms,
Than all thy dearest friends attire.

Kings daughters there were waiting seen,
And in the croud of virgins prest:
On thy right-hand the brighter queen
Stood all in gold of Ophir drest.

PART II.

O royal daughter, bow thy ear,
Attend with serious thoughts to me:
Forget thy people once so dear,
Nor long thy father's house to see.

So the king's heart shall be thy own,
He shall thy beauty still admire:
For he's thy Lord, thy Lord alone,
And does thy worship all require.

Tyre's stately daughter shall attend
With costly presents at thy gate:
The richest of the people bend,
And for thy favour beg and wait.

The king's fair daughter's pious heart
All inward glories does enfold:
Her outward garments wrought with
Are made of threads of purest gold.

She shall be led in solemn stare,
In robes of fine embroidery:
Her virgin friends that on her wait,
Shall all be introduc'd to thee.

As to the palace they resort,
Full joys in every heart shall reign,
Till the bright gate o'th' royal court
Receives the welcome nuptial train.

Instead of fathers soon there springs
A stock of sons, that owe their birth
To thee: a noble race of kings,
Whom thou shalt place o'er all the earth.

And I, O king, will make thy name
To all successive times descend:
All nations shall thy acts proclaim,
And thy loud praises ne'er shall end.