The fast, a poem: translated from the prophet Isaiah. By the Rev. James Murray.

Table of contents

- [titlepage]

- ISAIAH LVIII. 1 .

- PART II.

THE FAST.

FINIS.

THE FAST, A POEM, TRANSLATED FROM THE PROPHET ISAIAH.

By the Rev. JAMES MURRAY.

Wherefore have we fasted, and thou seest not.
Isaiah lviii. 3.

[Price 8 d.]

ISAIAH LVIII. 1 [†].

IN lofty accents let thy voice be heard,

And shew the tribes the mandates of the Lord.

Through all the land proclaim what crimes abound,

Let every word loud like a trumpet sound;

Spare neither age nor sex, nor low nor high,

Let all the house of Jacob hear thy cry:

For from the lowest cottage to the throne,

All ranks of men in paths of vice have gone.

They much profess, but yet their meaning's naught,

For not one word's an emblem of their thought.

In shew fictitious they draw nigh to me,

And act as if Jehovah did not see.

With pomp and splendor, void of soul and grace,

They pay devotion in my holy place.

A pleasure counterfeit smiles on each brow,

And songs melodious from their lips do flow,

That such as see them in this apish mode,

Would almost swear they did delight in God;

Yet all is fiction;—if you mark their course,

They still proceed from evil deeds to worse.

Their state devotion's all an action feign'd,

For when they worship God, curs'd self's their end.

Their slumb'ring priests like hirelings serve for pay,

And idly sleep and saunter out the day.

Like drowsy idle shepherds, who at noon,

Stretch out their lazy limbs upon the down,

And sleep securely in the heat of day,

While all their flocks do wander far astray:

And when the rav'ning wolves the sheep devour,

The shepherd lies supine, and sleeps secure.

At last the sluggard wakes, and as a proof

He loves the flock, he cries and scolds the wolf.

So thus the shepherds of the sacred fold,

They cannot watch, but loudly can they scold.

Even God himself, (they are so void of grace),

They even dare to scold him to his face.

'How vain is it for us to fast and pray,

'To waste our labour and lament a day,

'To vex our souls for sin, for though that we

'Do fast and pray, Jehovah will not see;

'Or if he sees us, pays us no regard,

'Nor thinks our labour worthy of reward.

'Our schemes are baffl'd, and our troops defeat,

'And all our wisest projects are too late.

'The chiefs of Bozrah, who obey'd our laws,

'Have now rebell'd, and Libnah's join'd their cause;

'Now both are rebels, and defy our hosts,

'Defeat our armies, and invade our coasts:

'Yet we have fasted many a weary day,

'But now we find it vain to fast and pray.'

[THE WORDS OF THE ALMIGHTY.]

Can such profane dissemblers think that I

Will either hear their voice or mind their cry?

For when ye seem to fast in outward shew,

You seek not things above, but things below;

Your souls are lofty, and your hearts are proud,

This all your actions do proclaim aloud;

For when ye fast, and feign t' afflict your souls,

You swing in pleasure, and ye swill in bowls;

And when ye come to bow before my throne,

Ye make your servants drudge like slaves at home.

You never fast but when ye mean to smite,

And never pray unless for power to fight.

No more ye mean when ye your sins confess,

Than to bribe heav'n for freedom to oppress.

Think ye that God, all gracious, ever will

Regard their litanies, who pray to kill?

To kill! and whom? your very flesh and blood;

Should I regard you, how could I be good?

Cease thus profanely to invoke my aid,

Or think I'll help to kill the souls I've made.

Ye tyrants, dread my thunder, fear your God,

And tremble at the lifting of my rod.

Is it a solemn fast to please the Lord,

To bow the head, and next transgress my word?

Can sack-cloth sanctified, conceal your sin,

Or hide from me your ugliness within?

All space I view, and all the orbs that roll,

Mine eyes behold, and penetrate the whole.

Your inmost thoughts, their secret springs I see,

Proceed from selfish vile hypocrisy.

To me's a fast an acceptable day,

When none but hypocrites do fast and pray;

When bended necks and stubborn hearts draw nigh,

To offer vain requests to the Most High?

Cry loud and long, yet for no other ends,

Except to kill their foes, enslave their friends.—

Who never bend their knees before my bar,

Till sin and guilt have plung'd them deep in war;

And then they think that I am so unjust,

To slaughter righteous men to feed their lust.—

Their lust of power; and when they steal my word,

Maintain they have dominion from the Lord.

Their legislature, though reverse to mine,

They yet eclept a government divine.

Such is their power and impudence of face,

They'd swear that Satan's power proceeds from grace:

Even Saul, Manasseh, Ahab, all these three,

Pretended each they had their power from me.

Yet they from me had power no other way,

Than wand'ring slaves have power to go astray;

For power to live and move implies no more,

Than to preserve what I have made before.

Abuse of power depends upon men's will,

And all must blame themselves when they do ill.

All just dominion hath its base in right,

And shines self-evident like beams of light:

Man's lusts apart, all mankind must agree,

That only righteous power proceeds from me.

None need dispute who has a right to rule,

The God of wisdom ne'er appoints a fool.

When fools wear crowns, and tyrants sceptres sway,

Then subjects sin not though they disobey:

When legislative power's oppos'd to right,

Men are not rul'd by justice, but by might;

Force is no law, and violence no rule,

Who practice either must be knave or fool.

The scheme of government which I approve,

Is that which rules the heart of man by love.

What's Aaron's race or David's line to me,

When priests are proud, and kings love tyranny?

The poor man's interest, and his soul's as dear

In my esteem, as those of prince or peer.

Kings were appointed, legislatures made,

Mens int'rests to preserve, not to invade.

How great their power, how far their might should go,

Are things quite plain, not difficult to shew.

The end of power is universal good,

A thing conspicuous, easy understood.

First do no ill, than all the good you can,

This is the end of government to man.

INFERENCES.

Kings often do, and princes oftimes pray,

For power to rule with universal sway;

For royal proclamations seldom come

Abroad, unless to bring dominion home.

When kings proclaim a fast, the blind may spy,

They have at least a vineyard in their eye.

Ahab, than whom a baser prince ne'er sway'd

A scepter o'er a nation, whin'd and pray'd;

Proclaim'd a fast at Jezebel's command,

And issu'd humiliation through the land:

But underneath this mask dark vengeance lay,

And Naboth suffer'd when the court did pray;

The royal monarch gain'd his point at last,

And consecrated murder by a fast.

The venal minister's of Ahab's court,

Meant more by tasting than a simple sport;

Like cunning politicians, who conceal

Their dark designs against the commonweal;

Who, lest some prying folk should chance to know,

Strike up some novel masquerade or show,

Some Cock-lane Ghost, or if these fail, at last

Amuse the people with a public fast.

State humiliations are but state engines,

Intended chiefly to mask o'er black crimes [†].

Fasts seldom from the royal power proceed,

Unless the prince is sadly pinch'd indeed.

Give monarch's troops, and but the treas'ry fill,

They'll leave the tribes of men to fast who will.

A poor exchequer and the reg'ments thin,

To monarch's always is the greatest sin.

When loads of wealth are squander'd on their lust,

And all the pond'rous sums they hold in trust,

Are scatter'd far abroad to gather power,

They call it treason to refuse them more.

The subjects must not judge, although they pay,

How much the king and courtiers throw away.

Implicit faith to courts is reckon'd due,

And none have right to judge except a few;—

Whose int'rest always blinds their judgments so,

They never err, be't ill or good they do.

Thus faith politic, like men's creed at Rome,

Is free to be explor'd by only—some.

The ignoble vulgar must remain content,

Though monarchs should mortgage the continent.

Thus speak the proud, but hear th' Eternal say

What men should ponder when they fast and pray.

[THE WORD OF THE LORD.]

'He who proclaims a fast ought first to free

'His subjects from all yokes of tyranny:

'Loose all unrighteous bands both more and less,

'And cease e'en helpless beggars to oppress.

'Set prisons open, and the hungry feed,

'Bring water to the thirsty when they need;

'Give wholesome covering to the naked poor,

'To all in want set open wide the door.

'When to your home your helpless friends repair,

'Let them have always ready welcome there.

'Nor suffer sycophants for to deny

'Your presence, when a needy friend stands by.

'Then shall thy glory like the morning ray,

'Burst forth in splendor, and increase like day;

'Health like a bubbling fountain shall spring forth,

'And pleasures flow from east, south, west, and north.

'The trump of Fame before thy face shall bear

'Thy high renown, and glory close the rear;

'And when thy orisons shall ascend on high,

'Thy God, propitious, shall attend thy cry;

'Grant all thy suits, and thy requests receive,

'And even ere you ask shall answer give.

'Throw every yoke but legal bands away,

'Nor meanly rule with arbitrary sway;

'For threat'ning proclamations never can

'Insure obedience, or regard from man.

'How vain is it to think when kings command,

'That men should run if they but wag their hand.'

Thus spoke Jehovah to the Jews of old,

And this the Prophets to the Fathers told [†].

Notes

†

1 Cry aloud, spare not; lift up thy voice like a trumpet, and shew my people their transgressions, and the house of Jacob their sins.

2 Yet they seek me daily, and delight to know my ways, as a nation that did righteousness, and forsook not the ordinances of their God: They ask of me the ordinances of justice; they take delight in approaching to God.

3 Wherefore have we fasted, say they, and thou seest not? Wherefore have we afflicted our soul, and thou takest no knowledge? Behold, in the day of your fast you find pleasure, and exact all your labours.

4 Behold, ye fast for strife and debate, and to smite with the fist of wickedness: Ye shall not fast as ye do this day, to make your voice to be heard on high.

5 Is it such a fast that I have chosen; a day for a man to afflict his soul? Is it to bow down his head as a bulrush, and to spread sack-cloth and ashes under him? Wilt thou call this a fast, and an acceptable day to the Lord?

6 Is not this the fast that I have chosen; to loose the bands of wickedness, to undo the heavy burdens, and to let the oppressed go free, and that ye break every yoke?

7 Is it not to deal thy bread to the hungry, and that thou bring the poor, that are cast out, to thy house; when thou seest the naked, that thou cover him, and that thou hide not thyself from thine own flesh?

↵

†
I. Kings xxi. 1. to 13.
↵

†
Isaiah lviii. 8, 9.
↵

PART II.

E'ER since the time that monarchies began,

And monarchs claim'd dominion over man,

Princes who aim'd at arbitrary sway,

And meant to make their villains all obey;

Have brib'd an hireling priesthood first to blind

The human conscience, and debase the mind:

For ev'ry tyrant, if he loose his purse.

Will find some Balaam ready with a curse;—

Chearful to listen to his Lord's command,

To scatter heaven's vengeance through the land;

False prophets, Hannaniah like, to tell

When every thing is wrong, that all is well.—

Whose power of face, and vilest impudence,

Exceed the utmost bounds of all pretence.

They think no shame to tell the grossest lies,

And publish fictions for true prophecies.

E'en when an host advances in array,

Will gravely swear they saw them run away:

Make ign'rant fools believe (for there are fools

At all times ready to be great men's tools)

That if they bow their heads or bend the knee,

In formal, feigned, vile hypocrisy,

With bashful looks conceal the worst intents,

That then they keep divine commandements.

When Zedekiah erst o'er Judah reign'd,

And God's own people all his laws profan'd;

False prophets then▪ as well as prophets since,

Told lies and flattery to that weak prince:

They augur'd all things as the courtiers will'd,

But never found their prophecies fulfil'd.

E'en those who trusted to their prophecies,

In sad experience found them all prove lies.

When Salem's stately towers and walls around,

In ruins lay quite level with the ground;

The temple sack'd, and its foundation till'd,

Then were their godly prophecies fulfil'd.

Their haughty monarch, whose perverted mind,

To truth and all true discipline was blind;

Who to his flatt'ring sycophants gave ear,

For his credulity he soon paid dear:

He saw his kingdom lost, his city ta'en,

His dearest offspring in his presence slain;

What now he saw was all foretold before,

He saw it true; alas, he saw no more!

The cruel Chaldean then put out his eyes,

And in his blindness prov'd the prophecies.

Helkiah's son, of Aaron's sacred line,

Of Anathoth, by augury divine,

In strongest emblems shew'd his dismal fate;

At last hew saw the truth; but ah! too late.

When Babel's warlike sons approached near,

And fill'd the tribes of Judah all with fear;

The wise foresaw the land's approaching doom,

And trembled for their miseries to come.

But Azur's faithless son, an augur base,

Who yet at court pass'd for a child of grace,

Brib'd by the ministry to publish lies,

Came forth with asses loads of prophecies.

Preach'd final conquest over every foe,

His lying pasquils o'er the country go,

Industrious spread by ministerial tools,

To gull th' unwary and to flatter fools.

Full fifty thousand in a month were sold,

From Salem to Beersheba I am told:

And when the faithless people would not buy,

The courtiers gave them out of courtesy.

So sanguine they to blind the people's eyes,

They turned pedlars of false prophecies.

And Shephatiah, D—h I would say,

As Balaam preach'd and publish'd, he did pay;

The old false prophet in his chariot flew,

And every lie he catch'd he dress'd it new;

Curs'd as he went, and as his curses flow'd,

Held up his hands, and turn'd his eyes to God.

His sanctimonious phiz and sly grimace

Pass'd among partizans for signs of grace;

So reverend like he vamped all his lies,

That grossest falsehoods pass'd for prophecies.

Thus courtiers prais'd him, and the venal tribes,

Who judge a cause by int'rest, truth by bribes;—

Who rights divine or human will not see,

Unless unlock'd by int'rest's golden key.

Harden'd in sin, and vainly puff'd with praise,

He shew'd some marks which were not signs of grace;

For which th' Almighty gave him in his ire,

Nor son nor daughter to succeed their sire [*].

While things turn'd worse, and worse, and ev'ry day

Brought still new tidings of some fresh dismay,

The king alarm'd, and rous'd through fear, at last,

Turn'd first devote, and then proclaim'd a fast.

He call'd the priests and prophets to prepare

A scheme of fasting, and a form of prayer,

To try if heav'n would grant him power to kill,

All those that were not subject to his will.

Court, priests, and prophets, when that sov'reign's cry

Run at their call, and at their nod draw nigh;

For royal mandates have a powerful zest,

And like a mighty loadstone draw a priest.

Even bishops feel their sympathetic force,

And all who have their feelings in their purse.

From Jearim to Beersheba all obey'd,

Even judges fasted and attornies pray'd;

One would have thought all Judah were sincere,

For nought was heard but mighty peals of prayer;

Like Ahab's priests they would not be said nay,

Though God refus'd to hear, yet still they pray.

Than Hananiah none shew'd more zeal,

In fervent fasting for the commonweal;

With labour'd suits he pray'd, and while he cry'd,

The very God of battles he defy'd.

Of Jewish valour vauntingly he spoke,

And with a symbol brake the Chaldean yoke [*];

Made all the tribes believe their foes would run

Like bats and owls before th' approaching sun.

He prov'd still more, that on that fatal day,

When Nergal [†] conquer'd, that he ran away.

Him fools believ'd, and liv'd in hope to see

The Jews victorious and the Chaldeans flee:

So strong their faith, they boast how ev'ry Jew

Had conquer'd squadrons, told they legions slew;

At their approach their foes still run away,

And yet the conquering tribes still lost the day.

When heav'n's ang'ry frowns their hopes beguil'd,

Then Hananiah swore Jehovah smil'd;

Told how their foes were blasted since that day,

The guilty Jews began to fast and pray.

Yet ev'ry post brought tidings worse and worse,

Oft' times the foot were slain, sometimes the horse:

All this was prov'd a victory complete,

And those who vanquished were aye defeat.

Such power has fasting in the hands of kings,

It changes nature, and the cause of things.

Even sins are sanctified when princes pray,

And light turns darkness, darkness shines like day.

All this a venal priesthood will declare,

And consecrate plain murder lawful war.

Even so it was in Ahab's pious reign,

Baal's prophets pray'd till Naboth he was slain.

Whate'er the prince desir'd, with one accord,

The priests insur'd him always from the Lord.

Four hundred prophets in a lusty ring,

As they obsequiously stood round the king,

With rosy gills in cringing accents bless,

And swore that Ramoth Gilead sure was his.

But shall I prosper, the vain prince reply'd,

They all said prosper; but the prophets ly'd.

With hieroglyphic horns (vain symbols those)

To shew how wicked men would push their foes,

These lying prophets, with a solemn farce,

Made foolish Ahab think himself was Mars;

But when the awful day of battle came,

He found their words and deeds were not the same.

'Tis vain to fast and pray while men remain

Resolv'd to hold, and all their sins retain.

They can't be humble who resolve to sin,

Nor are they pure who lodge vile thoughts within.

'Tis no hard matter for to fast till four,

Then feast on turtle when the fast is o'er.

Where envy rules, or proud ambition reigns,

Religion's self is fetter'd fast in chains.

Howe'er abstemious envious mortals are,

With God and man they wage eternal war.

Whole chapels crowded full of envious men,

Are but an image of that dreary den,

Envy's dark cave, which erst the virgin found

In a dark vale, and deep below the ground.

Where Envy, seated in her dark abode,

Defil'd with ropy gore and clots of blood;

Shut from the wind and from the wholesome skies,

In a deep vale the dreary dungeon lies;

Dismal and cold, where not a ray of light

Invades the winter, or disturbs the night.

A pois'nous morsel in her teeth she chew'd,

And gorg'd the flesh of vipers for her food.

Minerva, loathing, turn'd away her eye,

The hideous monster, rising heavily,

Came stalking forward, with a sullen pace,

And left her mangled offals on the place.

Soon as she saw the goddess gay and bright,

She fetch'd a groan at such a chearful sight.

Livid and meagre were her looks, her eye

In foul distorted glances turn'd awry;

A hord of gall her inward parts possess'd,

And spread a greenness o'er her cancer'd breast;

Her teeth were brown with rust, and from her tongue

In dangling drops the stringy poison hung.

She never smiles but when the wretched weep,

Nor lulls her malice with a moment's sleep;

Restless in spite, while watchful to destroy,

She pines and sickens at another's joy;

Foe to herself, distressing and distress'd,

She bears her own tormentor in her breast.

She takes her staff hung round with wreaths of thorn,

And sails along, in howling tempests born,

O'er fields and flowery meadows; where she steers

Her baneful course, a mighty blast appears,

Mildews and blights; the meadows are defac'd,

The fields and flow'rs and the whole year laid waste.

On mortals next, and peopled towns she falls,

And breathes a burning plague among their walls.

Though men may fast, and with much fervour pray,

Malice and envy soon will guilt betray.

He who commits a crime will quickly find

The pressing guilt lie heavy on his mind,

Though bribes or favour should assert his cause,

Pronounce him guiltless, and elude the laws.

None quits himself; his own impartial thought

Will damn, and conscience will record the fault.

Each as his hands in guilt have been embru'd,

By hellish horror ever is pursu'd,

A virtuous heart, and unstain'd innocence

Is man's best second guard, and sure defence.

But hear with patience a fam'd heathen's word,

It may do good even to a fasting lord,

Who fasts for power, and when he fasts will pray

For might to make reluctant lands obey;

And flimsy patriots, if they will, may hear

Some wholesome lessons for a patriot's ear.

That man's a Sisyphus whom noise and strife

Seduce from all the soft retreats of life;

To vex the government, disturb the laws,

Drunk with the fumes of popular applause,

He courts the giddy crowd to make him great,

And sweats and toils to mount the sov'reign seat.

For still to aim at power and still to fail,

Ever to strive and never to prevail;

What is it? but, in reason's true account

To heave the stone against the rising mount:

Which urg'd with labour, and forc'd up with pain,

Recoils, and rolls impetuous down the plain.

But mark him down a slave, who, humbly proud,

With presents begs preferment from the crowd;

That early suppliant, who salutes the tribes,

And sets the mob to scramble for his bribes.

That some old dottard, sitting in the sun,

On holidays may tell what fates were done.

But ye proud chiefs, that thirst for sov'reign sway,

Hear what an ancient Heathen bard doth say.

'Some ask for envy'd pow'r, which public hate

'Pursues and hurries headlong to their fate;

'Down go their titles, and their statues crown'd

'Are by base hands in the next river drown'd;

'The guiltless horses, and the chariot wheel,

'The same effects of vulgar fury feel.

'The smith prepares his hammer for the stroke,

'While belching bellows hissing fire provoke.

'Sejanus [*], almost first of Roman names,

'The great Sejanus crackles in the flames.

'Form'd in the forge, the pliant brass is laid

'On anvils, and of head and limbs are made

'Pans, cans, and piss-pots, and such kitchen stuff;

'Nor did their mean revenge think this enough:

'They drag the image through the streets, and loud

'Sound welcome to the gazing gath'ring crowd.

"Adorn your doors with laurels, and a bull

"Milk white and large, lead to the capitol;

"Sejanus with a rope is dragg'd along,

"The sport and laughter of the giddy throng.'

'Good Lord, they cry, what blackmoor lips he has,

'How foul a smock, and what a hanging face!

'By Heav'n, I never could endure his sight;

'But say, How came his monstrous crimes to light?

'What is the charge, and who the evidence?

'There must be striking proofs of his offence.

'Nothing at all of this; but Caesar sent

'A threat'ning letter to the Parliament:

'Nay, Sirs, if Caesar writ, I ask no more;

'He's guilty—and the question's out of door.'

Now, with Sejanus wouldst thou change thy fate,

To be like him, first minister of state?

To have thy levees crowded with resort

Of a depending, gaping, servile court;

Dispose all honours of the sword and gown,

Raise with a nod, and ruin with a frown;

To hold thy prince in pupilage and sway

The monarch whom the conquer'd world obey:

Yes, I believe thou would'st be great as he;

For every man's a fool to that degree.

All wish the dire prerogative to kill,

Even they would have the power that want the will.

But would'st thou have thy wishes understood,

To take the bad together with the good?

Would'st thou not rather choose the small renown,

To be the mayor of some poor paltry town?

Bigly to look and barbarously to speak,

To pound false weights, and scanty measures break;

Than be Sejanus, so advanc'd in place,

Then tumbled headlong to such mean disgrace.

Great Hannibal within the balance lay

And tell how many pounds his ashes weigh;

Him Afric was not able to contain,

Whose length runs level with the Atlantic main,

And weakens fruitful Nilus to convey

His sun-beat waters by so long a way.

Spain first he won, the Pyrenaeans past,

And frozen Alps, the mounds that nature cast;

And with corroding juices, as he went,

A passage through the living rocks he rent.

Though Italy was conquer'd and o'er-run,

Uneasy still, he cry'd, there's nothing done;

Till level with the ground their gates are laid,

And punic flags on Roman towers display'd.

But what's his end, O charming glory! say

What rare fifth act to crown this huffing play?

In one deciding battle overcome,

He flies, is banish'd from his native home.

These heathen hints, in an auspicious hour,

May warning give to such as pray for power.

To see the wan-complexion'd, gambling crew,

In church sit cloister'd, fasting in a pew,

Yawning and panting till the hour's are past,

And longing more to break than keep their fast,

To hear the long rob'd gentry squeaking say,

Ah guilty! Miserere Domine,

Is such a farce, would almost spoil the grace,

And pinch the skill of Aristophanes,

To give their characters a striking hue,

As they sit feign'dly fasting in the pew.

By play men's tempers are unguarded made,

And when the head's intent the heart's betray'd;

Then base desires of gain, then rage appears,

Next blows and brawls arise, and anxious fears;

Then clamour and revellings reach the sky,

While losing gamesters heaven and earth defy;

Then horrid oaths are utter'd every cast,

They grieve, and curse, and swear, nay, weep at last,

And in a pet will even feign to fast.

When lawyers fast, and when that gamblers pray,

Or when that bishops cast the tythes away,

When haughty churchmen are not fond of power,

Or when the strong do not the weak devour;

Then shall dissemblers find it on record,

That when they fast for strife, they please the Lord.

But why do pious nations, in distress,

Flee to the Lord, and all their sins confess?

Sins, which they mean not ever to give o'er,

While sin brings gain, and vice increases power.

Can such believe the great Almighty's blind,

And does not see the errors of the mind?

Or that hypocrisy and vile grimace,

Is a fit off'ring to obtain his grace?

While secret vice lies lurking in the mind,

And guilty culprits to their faults are blind:

Though they may bow, and cringe, and fast a day,

In God's pure eye they neither fast nor pray.

A pamper'd prelate, finely deck'd in lawn,

To fast and pray, (by six fine horses drawn

In a gilt coach), and to confess the crimes

Of lords and scavengers, in these bad times,

Is so polite a mark of penitence,

That drunken peers can scarcely take offence.

But why not join in praise as well as fast,

And thank the Lord for many favours past?

For smiling springs dress'd in a verdant green,

And gladsome summers which our eyes have seen;

With richest autumns in effulgence gay,

All nodding with a cornu copiae.

For twenty seasons past, and some few more,

The last was better than the year before;

And now the present still excels the past,

Yet peevish Britons will not praise but fast.

Like children, who, for some conceiv'd affront,

Will fast in spite, if bid them eat they wont;

Take penance on themselves, 'cause Heav'n won't give

What their own pride unjustly would receive.

Who are not grateful for all favours past,

But mock Jehovah when they feign to fast.

Notes

*
Jer. xxix. 32.
↵

*
Jer. xxviii. 10.
↵

†
Nergal, a Chaldean officer.
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*
Prime minister of Tiberius Caesar: He had many triumphal chariots and statues erected to him; but falling into disgrace, they were all broken down, and the Senate and people insulted over him as meanly as they had formerly flattered him.
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Information about this book

Title statement

The fast, a poem: translated from the prophet Isaiah. By the Rev. James Murray.

Murray, James, 1732-1782.

Publication

Distributor

University of Oxford Text Archive
Oxford University Computing Services
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Oxford
OX2 6NN
ota@oucs.ox.ac.uk

ID [ota]

http://ota.ox.ac.uk/id/3375

ID [isbn10]

1106003748

ID [isbn13]

9781106003744

ID [TCP]

K004143.000

ID [BIBNO]

CW3322779190

ID [ECRP]

1078700300

Availability

Distributed by the University of Oxford under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License

Source

— The fast, a poem: translated from the prophet Isaiah. By the Rev. James Murray., Murray, James, 1732-1782.. 24p. ; 8⁰. [Newcastle upon Tyne?,. 1797?]. [Wove paper watermarked: 1797.] [Reproduction of original from the Bodleian Library (Oxford).] [English Short Title Catalog, ESTCN6833.] [Electronic data. Farmington Hills, Mich. : Thomson Gale, 2003. Page image (PNG). Digitized image of the microfilm version produced in Woodbridge, CT by Research Publications, 1982-2002 (later known as Primary Source Microfilm, an imprint of the Gale Group).]

Creation

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Editorial practices

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