Joseph Poem by Daniel Baker

I.
Not the Pellaean Conquerour,
To whose insatiate restless Mind
The spacious Globe too narrow did appear;
It made him sweat to be so close confin'd;
Nor mighty Cesar will I sing,
Who did so many warlike Nations bring
Under the Roman Eagle's tow'ring Wing.
Rough Wars, and bloody Battles seem
For gentle Verse no proper Theme:
The peaceful Muse, believe me, can't rejoyce
To hear the barb'rous Drum, or the shrill Trumpet's Voice.
Nor can the World Two Things so 'nlike afford
(With Contrarieties tho' richly stor'd)
As are the Poet's Pen, and Tyrant's Sword.


II.
Since Kings and Emperours thou dost refuse,
I'll teach thee, my Pindarique Muse,
What fitter Subject thou shalt chuse:
Let virtuous Joseph move thy tuneful Strings;
A greater Man than Emperours and Kings;
Joseph, who o'er himself a Conquest made,
And by his own Affections was obey'd.
Who subdu'd Vanity and Pride,
And the whold World of Passions else beside.
Who made the Rebel Lust to Virtue yield,
And chas'd the Tyrant Beauty from the Field,
A bolder Labour than the fam'd Alcides ever try'd;
Or all those royal Monsters, who amidst the state
And glories of their prosp'rous Fate
Were Slaves themselves, and very meanly Great:
Who basely did to Woman--kind submit,
And when with equal Guilt and Toil
Of many Lands they'd reap'd the Spoil,
They laid all down at an imperious Harlot's feet.
This Bondage noble Joseph scorn'd,
A Youth by God and Nature so adorn'd
With rich variety of Grace,
That born he seem'd of heav'nly Race,
So pure his Mind, so lovely was his Face.


III.
No sooner had his Mistress cast
(A Lady beautiful and young)
Her Eyes on him, but she began to long
The fair and prom'sing Fruit, (like Eve) to tast.
Yet for a while she faintly strove
To disengage her Captive Heart:
Some Strife there was on either part,
But Passion did at length too hard for Virtue prove.
Shall I (said he) forget my nuptial Vows?
Shall I defame my Husband's noble House,
And lose the Honour of a chast and loyal Spouse?
Shall I debase my self, and leave
A Peer of Egypt, for an Hebrew Slave?
Yet why a Slave? Not his, but Fortune's Sin,
That partial Dame, by whom the best
And bravest Men are most depress'd,
While the vile Sons of Earth are courted and caress'd.
Can any Thing so Charming, so Divine
Come from a low ignoble Origine?
His God--like Beauty, and his Princely Meen
Bear witness for him, that he springs
From a long Race of ancient Kings:
I'm sure he well deserves th' Embraces of a Queen.
Mine is a just and noble Flame:
There's nothing to obstruct my Joys,
There's nothing to condemn my wel--made Choice.
But Priest--craft, out worn Laws, and Honours empty Name.
Well then, th' illustrious Passion I'll obey.
Let Preachers, Laws, and Honour all give way:
Love is a Lord more absolute than they.


IV.
Resolv'd to try, nor doubtful of Success
(Her Wit and Beauty made her confident)
She courts her Servant with a bold Address,
Tells him the Story of her Love,
And all her Charms she does display,
And all her Beauties open lay:
But vain are all her Arts his Inn'cence to betray,
And all her Witchcrafts prove too weak his well--fix'd Mind to move.
More gen'rous Thoughts had prepossess'd
And strongly garison'd his Breast.
His Master's Kindness, and reposed Trust
Were firm Engagements to be just.
All things were his, but only she
That most desired his to be:
But Joseph would not taste the One forbidden Tree
The Love of Virtue, and the Fear of God
So fill'd his Soul with sacred Fire,
They left no room for any lewd Desire.
His purer Flame (as Moses wondrous Rod
Th' enchanted Serpents did devour)
Consum'd the other Passions: all their Pow'r
His steady Resolutions mock.
In vain her Courtship she repeats,
In vain she threatens and intreats:
He equally disdains her Flatt'ries, and her Threats.
Her Sighs and Tears are fruitless all;
Those idly blow, these idly fall:
His solid Virtue they no more can shock,
Than Winds and Waves can rend the sure Foundations of a Rock.


V.
Upon what desp'rate Service will not Lust,
When raging grown its blinded Bond--slaves thrust?
His stubborn Heart, so long besieg'd in vain,
That to no Composition would descend,
She now resolves by Force to bend,
And storm the fortress which no Treaty could obtain.
Upon the comely Youth, her furious Hands she cast,
And impudently drew him to the Bed:
Long Time she strove to hold him, but at last,
He broke away, and from the lustful Syren fled.
Go, matchless Youth, glad and triumphant go,
And bind fresh Lawrels round thy Conq'ring Brow.
The Sons of War, who take Delight
To meet their Foes in open Fight,
Less Honour merit than is due to thee
For daring from thine Enemy to flee.
An everlasting Temple to thy Fame
(If such her Pow'r may be) my Muse has vow'd to frame,
And in it thou shalt sit enthron'd on high,
Full of Grace and Majesty,
Beneath thy Foot--stool Pride and Lust shall lie,
And all the Passions else, a long Captivity,
Round thy Victorious Head
A Glory shall be spread,
And on a well--wrought Pillar by,
In smooth and noble Verse thy Triumphs shall be read.


VI.
Enrag'd to find her Labour lost
(A Woman and a Lover to be crost!
She turns from Bad to Worse. Lust quits her Breast
By Anger and Revenge, new Lords, to be possess'd.
She threatens high, and tho' her Love did fail,
She swears her Malice shall prevail.
His Vest, which flying, he had left behind,
She keeps, until her Lord should come
From th' honorable Toil of publick Business, home.
This, this (says she) my Husband's Eyes shall blind,
And the proud Hebrew Slave shall quickly find,
That I can be severe as well as kind.
All drown'd in Tears the spleenful Hypocrite
Accuses Joseph of that Sin,
Of which herself had guilty been,
And (as his Brethren did before,
Their Treachery to cover o'er)
She shows her Garment to confirm her Spight.
The false Complaint her too fond Husband hears,
Believes her Words, believes her artificial Tears,
Highly commends her feign'd Fidelity,
And in a jealous Rage
(Which nothing could asswage)
Condemns unheard the right'ous Youth
(Regardless of his former Truth)
In a dark Dung'on all his Days to lie.
But God that still protects and loves the Innocent,
To comfort him, from Heav'n an Angel sent.
Blest Gabriel, none more kind than he
To men renown'd for Chastity,
Assum'd a Shape (like Joseph's) pure and bright.
The dismal Room smil'd with new Beams of Light,
And Joseph trembled at the Sight;
Till his Approach the courteous Spirit made,
And, bowing, thus his sacred Message said.


VII.
Hail, peerless Youth, of God belov'd,
Tho' Men and Dev'ls conspire to blast and ruin thee,
Yet Heav'n thy well--try'd Virtue has approv'd,
And thou shalt soon from hence deliver'd be.
Thy Fame, now deeply rooted under ground,
Up to the Skies
Shall shortly rise,
And spread it's flour'shing Branches all around.
Thy Suff'rings and Disgrace shall end with speed,
And Wealth and Glory in their Place succeed,
With Joy unspeakable thou shalt behold
Thy Chain of Iron, chang'd for one of Gold.
And thou who now ly'st in the lowest Pit,
Upon a lofty Throne shalt sit,
Advanc'd on high, next to great Phar'oh's side.
And beauteous Asenath shall be thy Bride.
A noble Race thou shalt beget,
And what thy eldest Brother Lost
By Sin, thy Virtue shall obtain:
The double Portion thou shalt gain,
And Two illustrious Tribes to come from thee shall boast.
None but Judah's royal Line
T' which ancient Prophecies confine
The great Messiah's Birth, thy Off--spring shall outshine.
Thy Father's num'rous Family,
And all the sacred Seed shall be sustain'd by thee.
And when thy glorious Race is run,
Thou shalt to Heav'n translated be,
Where thy pure Eyes shall gladly see
The blessed Face of God, far brighter than the Sun.
All human Hopes thy Bliss shall there excel,
And with chaste Spirits, like thy self, for ever thou shalt dwell.