Just , an unblemish'd priest,
His piety sincere, but ill address'd,
While fragrant incense round the temple smokes,
from the monarch he invokes.
The fiends, in hopes to cross the great design
And awful will of providence divine,
With penalties forbid the king's intent,
The  future greatness to prevent:
Then nam'd the fair  for his bride,
And blindly with eternal fate comply'd:
Effecting heav'n's predestinated ends,
While  ruin envious hell intends;
Nor doubts the young idolatress would prove
His snare, and soon seduce him with her love.