Which Titus fiercely sackt with Jewish slaughter:
And to thy second birth, raisd to my sight
I prostrate bid, thy blessed bounds goodnight:
Next for the Holy land, which I have trac’d,
From end to end; and all its beauty fac’d;
Where Kings were stall’d, disthron’d, defac’d, renown’d,
Cast downe, erect’d, unscepterd, slayne, and crown’d:
[VI. 290.]The land of promise, once a Sea of Oyle
Whence milke and honey flowd; yea, too a soyle
Where men, and might, like miracles were raisd