Imatges de pÓgina
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14.
For if such holy song
Enwrap our fancy long,

Time will run back, and fetch the age of gold; 135
And
Will sicken soon and die,

And leprous Sin will melt from earthly mould;
And Hell itself will pass away,
And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering day.

15.

141

Yea Truth, and Justice then
Will down return to men,

buelede Orb'd in a rainbow; and like glories wearing

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Mercy will sit between,
Thron’d in celestial sheen,

145
With radiant feet the tissu'a clouds down steering;
And Heav'n as at some festival
Will open wide the gates of her high palace hall.

16.
But wisest Fate says no,
This must not yet be so,

150
The Babe lies yet in smiling infancy,
That on the bitter cross
Must redeem our loss;

So both himself and us to glorify:
Yet first to those ychain'd in sleep,
The wakeful trump of doom must thunder through the

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17.
With such a horrid clang
As on mount Sinai rang

While the red fire and smouldring clouds out brake:
The aged Earth agast

160 With terror of that blast,

Shall from the surface to the centre shake;
When at the world's last session, 4.C.%.11,594.
The dreadful Judge in middle air shall spread his throne.

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18. And then at last our bliss

165
Full and perfect is,

But now begins; for from this happy day
Th’ old Dragon under ground
In straiter limits bound,
Not half so far casts his usurped sway;

170
And wrath to see his kingdom fail,
Swindges the scaly horrors of this folded tail. here mbet

19.

turor,
The oracles are dumb,

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supposed

to case No voice or hideous hum from the time of the birth of

Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. 175 6trit
Apollo from his shrine
Can no more divine,

With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving.
No nightly trance, or breathed spell,
Inspires the pale-ey'd priest from the prophetic cell. 180

20.

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The lonely mountains o’er, heuer ur de anything letter
And the resounding shore,

A voice of weeping heard, and loud lament;
From haunted spring, and dale
Edg'd with poplar pale,

185
The parting genius is with sighing sent.
With flower-inwov'n tresses torn
The nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets mourn.

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21.
In consecrated earth,
And on the holy hearth,

igo
The Lars, and Lemures moan with midnight .plaint;
In urns, and altars round,

A drear and dying sound
utens Affrights the Flamens at their service quaint ;
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And the chill marble seems to sweat,

195 While each peculiar power forgoes his wonted seat. priest

VOL, I.

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18

EARLY POEMS, 1624–1637.
Barbi bere Planean dutee, Oor "Was mue

22.
Peor, and Baälim,
Forsake their temples dim,

With that twice-batter'd god of Palestine;da 70.
And mooned Ashtaroth, Mirusiam ju dutark, ul

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mai Heav'ns queen and mother both,

aphor tiles Now sits not girt with tapers' holy shine ; to looyitä The Libyc Hammon shrinks his horn, dily In vain the Tyrian maids their wounded Thammuz mourn.

Adonis

23, And sullen Moloch fled, vee ustes

,
Hath left in shadows dread,

His burning idol all of blackest hue;
In vain with cymbals' ring,
They call the grisly king,

In dismal dance about the furnace blue;
the
The brutish gods of Nile as fast,

thed kun god

Isis and
Orus, and the dog Anubis haste,
Siris, and graden

the earth
Nor is Osiris seen the military

In Memphian grove, or green, there

Trampling the unshowr'd grass with lowings loud; 215 bille rain Nor can he be at rest

Within his sacred chest,

Naught but profoundest Hell can be his shroud;
In vain with timbrell'd anthems dark
The sable-stoled sorcerers bear his worshipt ark,

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220

25.

He feels from Juda's land
The dreaded Infant's hand,

The rays of Bethlehem blind his dusky eyn;
Nor all the gods beside
Longer dare abide,

225
Not Typhon huge ending in snaky twine:
Our Babe, to show his Godhead true,
Can in his swaddling bands control the damned crew.

26. So when the sun in bed, Curtain'd with cloudy red,

230 Pillows his chin upon an orient wave;

eastern The flocking shadows pale Troop to th’ infernal jail,

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.

27. But see the Virgin blest, Hath laid her Babe to rest.

Time is our tedious song should here have ending: Heav'ns youngest teemed star,

240 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.hr

UPON THE CIRCUMCISION.

5

(1630.)
Ye flaming powers, and winged warriors bright,
That erst with music, and triumphant song
First heard by happy watchful shepherds' ear,
So sweetly sung your joy the clouds along
Through the soft silence of the list’ning night,
Now mourn; and if sad share with us to bear
Your fiery essence can distil no tear,
Burn in your sighs, and borrow
Seas wept from our deep sorrow;
He who with all Heav'ns heraldry whilere
Enter'd the world, now bleeds to give us ease ;
Alas, how soon our sin
Sore doth begin

His infancy to seize !

IO

15

20

O more exceeding love, or law more just ?
Just law indeed, but more exceeding love !
For we by rightful doom remediless
Were lost in death, till he that dwelt above
High thron'd in secret bliss, for us frail dust
Emptied his glory, ev'n to nakedness;
And that great cov’nant which we still transgress
Entirely satisfi'd,
And the full wrath beside
Of vengeful Justice bore for our excess,
And seals obedience first with wounding smart
This day; but o ere long,
Huge pangs and strong

Will pierce more near his heart.

25

THE PASSION.

(1630.)
EREWHILE of music, and ethereal mirth,
Wherewith the stage of air and earth did ring,
And joyous news of Heav'nly Infant's birth,
My muse with angels did divide to sing;
But headlong joy is ever on the wing;

5
In wintry solstice like the short’nd light,
Soon swallow'd up in dark and long out-living night.
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;
Dangers, and snares, and wrongs, and worse than so,
Which he for us did freely undergo.

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

15 That dropt with odorous oil down his fair eyes, Poor fleshly tabernacle entered, His starry front low-rooft beneath the skies; o what a mask was there, what a disguise !

IO

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