And seem’d as he were only born for love. 
  Whate’er he did, was done with so much ease,
  In him alone ’twas natural to please: 
  His motions all accompanied with grace;
  And Paradise was open’d in his face. 30
  With secret joy indulgent David view’d
  His youthful image in his son renew’d: 
  To all his wishes nothing he denied;
  And made the charming Annabell[67] his bride. 
  What faults he had (for who from faults is free?)
  His father could not, or he would not see. 
  Some warm excesses which the law forbore,
  Were construed youth that purged by boiling o’er;
  And Amnon’s murder by a specious name,
  Was call’d a just revenge for injured fame. 40
  Thus praised and loved, the noble youth remain’d,
  While David undisturb’d in Sion reign’d. 
  But life can never be sincerely blest: 
  Heaven punishes the bad, and proves the best. 
  The Jews, a headstrong, moody, murmuring race,
  As ever tried the extent and stretch of grace;
  God’s pamper’d people, whom, debauch’d with ease,
  No king could govern, nor no god could please;
  (Gods they had tried of every shape and size,
  That god-smiths could produce, or priests devise):  50
  These Adam-wits,[68] too fortunately free,
  Began to dream they wanted liberty;
  And when no rule, no precedent was found,
  Of men by laws less circumscribed and bound;
  They led their wild desires to woods and caves,
  And thought that all but savages were slaves. 
  They who, when Saul was dead, without a blow,
  Made foolish Ishbosheth the crown forego;
  Who banish’d David did from Hebron bring,
  And with a general shout proclaim’d him king:  60
  Those very Jews, who, at their very best,
  Their humour more than loyalty express’d,
  Now wonder’d why so long they had obey’d
  An idol monarch, which their hands had made;
  Thought they might ruin him they could create,
  Or melt him to that golden calf—­a state. 
  But these were random bolts:  no form’d design,
  Nor interest made the factious crowd to join: 
  The sober part of Israel, free from stain,
  Well knew the value of a peaceful reign; 70
  And, looking backward with a wise affright,
  Saw seams of wounds dishonest to the sight: 
  In contemplation of whose ugly scars,
  They cursed the memory of civil wars. 
  The moderate sort of men thus qualified,
  Inclined the balance to the better side;
  And David’s mildness managed it so well,
  The bad found no occasion to rebel. 
  But when to sin our biass’d nature leans,
  The careful devil is still at hand with means; 80
  And providently pimps for ill desires: 
  The good old cause revived a plot requires. 
  Plots, true or false, are necessary things,
  To raise up commonwealths, and ruin kings.