Poem by William Whitehead

The Vision of Solomon

'Twas night, and sleep with gently-waving wand,
Sat softly brooding o'er that monarch's brow,
Whose waking nod could Judah's realms command,
Or deal destruction to the frighted foe,
Great David's son — But at this tranquil hour,
No dreams of state disturb'd his peaceful bed,
To nobler heights his thoughts unfetter'd soar,
And brighter visions hover round his head.
Let meaner kings by mortals guard their state:
Around his sacred couch aerial legates wait.

"Hail, best belov'd"! Superior to the rest
One bending Angel cry'd with heav'nly voice,
"Earth, seas, and air stand to thy view confest,
And God's own mandate ratifies thy choice.
Chuse then from these — say, shall thy pow'r extend
Where suns scarce warm this earth's remotest shore?
Shall India's Lords beneath thy sceptre bend,
Whilst their black troops stand silent and adore?
To thee, sole Lord, shall earth her stores unfold,
Pour all her flame with gems to thee, and mines that gold?

"Shall Ocean's waves, obedient to thy call,
As erst to Moses, rang'd in order stand,
"While crouds once more admire the floating wall,
And treasures open on the glitt'ring sand?
"Or shall Fame's breath inspire each softer air,
Thee Just and Good to distant worlds resound,
While Peace, fair goddess, leads the smiling year,
Swells the glad grain, and spreads the harvest round,
Bids Jordan's extend its azure pride,
Pleas'd with reflected fruits that tremble in the tide?"

The Cherub spoke — when POWER majestic rose,
A Tyrian tinctur'd robe she dragg'd behind,
Whose artful folds at ev'ry turn disclose
Sceptres and crowns that flutter'd in the wind.
Gigantic Phantom! in her face appear'd
Terrific charms, too fierce for mortal eyes;
Aw'd and amaz'd her very smiles we fear'd,
As tho' storms lurk'd beneath the smooth disguise!
But when she frowns, tremendous thunders roar,
Stern Desolation reigns, and kingdoms float in gore.

Her WEALTH succeeds — and scarce his tott'ring head
Sustains the glitt'ring ore's incumbent weight
O'er his old limbs were tatter'd garments spread,
A well-fix'd staff directs his feeble feet.
Thus mean himself appear'd, but all around
What crouds unnumber'd hail the passing seer!
POWER, as he came, bow'd lowly to the ground,
And own'd with rev'rence a superiour there.
"Rise, David's son, thy utmost wish extend,
See to thy sceptre WEALTH, the world's great monarch, bend."

FAME next approach'd, whose clarion's martial sound
Bids conqu'ring laurels flourish ever green,
And gentle PEACE with olive chaplets crown'd,
And PLENTY goddess of the sylvan scene;
These PLEASURE join'd, loose flow'd her radiant hair,
Her flying fingers touch'd the trembling lyre,
"Come Mirth," she sung, "your blooming wreaths prepare,
Come gay Delight, and ever-young Desire,
Let days, let years, in downy circles move
Sacred to sprightly Joy, and all-subduing Love."

The mingled train advanc'd; to close the rear,
As lost in thought, appear'd a pensive maid,
Bright was her aspect, lovely yet severe,
In virgin white her decent limbs array'd,
She mov'd in sober state; on either side
A beauteous handmaid friendly aid bestow'd,
Fair VIRTUE here, her view from earth to guide;
There CONTEMPTATION rais'd her golden rod.
Hail, WISDOM hail! I see and bless the sight,
First-born of heav'n, pure source of intellectual light.

On her the monarch fix'd his eager eyes,
On her alone, regardless of the croud,
"Let vulgar souls (he cry'd) yon trifles prize,
Mortals that dare of mis'ry to be proud,
Hence then: I burn for more ingenuous charms,
Nature's true beauties with more lustre shine;
Then take me, WISDOM, take me to thy arms,
O snatch me from myself, and make me thine.
All heav'n calls good, or man felicity,
Peace, Plenty, Health, Content, are all compriz'd in thee."

1. The Sweepers
2. Nature to Dr. Hoadly
3. To the Honourable [Charles Townsend]
4. Hymn to Venus, on a great Variety of Roses being planted around her Cottage
5. The Lyric Muse to Mr. Mason

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