The clotted gore. I, with what speed the while, (Gaza is not in plight to say us nay,) Will send for all my kindred, all my friends, To fetch him hence, and solemnly attend With silent obsequy, and funeral train, Home to his father's house: there will I build him What the unsearchable dispose Of highest Wisdom brings about, Oft he seems to hide his face, And to his faithful champion hath in place And all that band them to resist His uncontrollable intent; His servants he with new acquist Of true experience, from this great event 1758 |