For if such holy song Enwrap our fancy long, 14. Time will run back, and fetch the age of gold; 135 And speckl'd Vanity frivolity, rotility of human with on Will sicken soon and die, And leprous Sin will melt from earthly mould; And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering day. 15. Yea Truth, and Justice then 141 Will down return to men, and like glories wearing lucked Orb'd in a rainbow; enclosed Mercy will sit between, Thron'd in celestial sheen, brightness With radiant feet the tissu'a clouds down steering; Will open wide the gates of her high palace hall. But wisest Fate says no, This must not yet be so, 16. 145 150 While the red fire and smouldring clouds out brake: With terror of that blast, Shall from the surface to the centre shake; When at the world's last session, . P.%. 11,514. 160 The dreadful Judge in middle air shall spread his throne. 18. And then at last our bliss Full and perfect is, But now begins; for from this happy day In straiter limits bound, Not half so far casts his usurped sway; Swindges the scaly horror of his folded tail. swinging 19. The oracles are dumb, oracles No voice or hideous hum are 165 170 here used for Terror. supposes. to cease from the time of the birth of Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. 175 6hrist Apollo from his shrine Can no more divine, With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving. No nightly trance, or breathed spell, refere Inspires the pale-ey'd priest from the prophetic cell. 180 to Pythian cracke ме You priest 20. This stangs expert Millen The lonely mountains o'er, And the resounding shore, anything better A voice of weeping heard, and loud lament; Edg'd with poplar pale, The parting genius is with sighing sent. With flower-inwov'n tresses torn departing The nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets mourn. In consecrated earth, And on the holy hearth, 21. The Lars, and Lemures moan with midnight plaint; In urns, and altars round, A drear and dying sound 190 quaint; strange to Affrights the Flamens at their service VOL. I. in general C 195 of them. With that twice-batter'd god of Palestine; a go. And mooned Ashtaroth, ebrew name for Astarte, the 200 Synan aphor dite. Heav'ns queen and mother both, Now sits not girt with tapers' holy shine; egypt The Libyc Hammon shrinks his horn, deity In vain the Tyrian maids their wounded Thammuz mourn. 23. And sullen Moloch fled, Ste. Hath left in shadows dread, Adonis 205 His burning idol all of blackest hue; They call the grisly king, In dismal dance about the furnace blue; The brutish gods of Nile as fast, 210 The dog-got. of the earth. got Isis and Orus, and the dog Anubis haste, they got. there is Nor is Osiris seen 24. In Memphian grove, or green, Trampling the unshowr'd grass with lowings loud; 215 little rain Nor can he be at rest by Within his sacred chest, in legypt. Naught but profoundest Hell can be his shroud; In vain with timbrell'd anthems dark The sable-stoled sorcerers bear his worshipt ark. 220 25, He feels from Juda's land The dreaded Infant's hand, The rays of Bethlehem blind his dusky eyn; Longer dare abide, Not Typhon huge ending in snaky twine: Can in his swaddling bands control the damned crew. 225 Each fetter'd ghost slips to his several grave; And the yellow-skirted fays 235 Fly after the night-steeds, leaving their moon-lov'd maze. But see the Virgin blest, 27. Hath laid her Babe to rest. Time is our tedious song should here have ending: Heav'ns youngest teemed star, Hath fixt her polisht car, Her sleeping Lord with handmaid lamp attending. And all about the courtly stable, Bright-harnest angels sit in order serviceable. 240 brightan UPON THE CIRCUMCISION. (1630.) YE flaming powers, and winged warriors bright, Seas wept from our deep sorrow; He who with all Heav'ns heraldry whilere Enter'd the world, now bleeds to give us ease; Sore doth begin His infancy to seize! 5 ΙΟ O more exceeding love, or law more just? And that great cov'nant which we still transgress And the full wrath beside Of vengeful Justice bore for our excess, And seals obedience first with wounding smart Huge pangs and strong Will pierce more near his heart. THE PASSION. (1630.) EREWHILE of music, and ethereal mirth, But headlong joy is ever on the wing; In wintry solstice like the short'nd light, Soon swallow'd up in dark and long out-living night. 15 20 25 5 For now to sorrow must I tune my song, And set my harp to notes of saddest woe, Which on our dearest Lord did seize ere long; 10 Dangers, and snares, and wrongs, and worse than so, Most perfect hero, tri'd in heaviest plight Of labours huge and hard, too hard for human wight! He sovran priest, stooping his regal head His starry front low-rooft beneath the skies; O what a mask was there, what a disguise! 15 |