And now to Abraham thus th'Almighty spake,
Thy Son, thine only Son, thine Isaac take,
And where Moriah's craggy Mountains rise
The Youth to him that gave him, sacrifice.

Nor did the Friend of God dispute or stay;
He knew 'twas Heaven's to order, his t'obey:
Who gave him, cou'd perform the Words he said,
Who bid him die cou'd raise him from the Dead.

Scarce had the Sun forsook th'Eöan Main
And chas'd the Shades o'r scorch'd Arabia's Plain,
When Abraham, yet a Father, leaves his Tent,
And to the Place with his lov'd Isaac went:
The thoughtful Father bore the Knife and Fire,
His Son the Wood, who thus accosts his Sire:
-- Nor Wood, nor Fire, for Sacrifice we need,
But where's the Lamb must on the Altar bleed?
Unmov'd the faithful Patriarch thus reply'd,
'Tis God who sends and he'll the Lamb provide.

And now the Victim's on the Altar bound
The Father's Hand is rais'd to give the fatal Wound:
O Piety! O Nature! Why so slow,
Ye Angels, to divert the falling Blow!

At length 'tis done; at length by Heavn's command
A willing Watcher flies, and stops his Hand:
When from the Throne a voice like Thunder broke
And to the Patriarch thus th' Almighty spoke.

``Enough, my Friend! enough thy Piety is shown:
``Thy matchless Faith shall be to after-Ages known:
``I by myself have sworn thy num'rous Seed I'll bless,
The gate of those that hate them shall thy Seed possess:
``The Saviour of the World shall from thy Stock arise
``T' atone his Father's Wrath a willing Sacrifice.