XXV. 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: Our Babe, to show his Godhead true, Can in his swaddling bands control the damnèd crew. XXVI. So, when the sun in bed, Pillows his chin upon an Lorient wave, The flocking shadows pale Troop to the infernal jail, Each fettered ghost slips to his several grave, And the yellow-skirted fays Fly after the night-steeds, leaving their moon-loved maze. But see XXVII. the Virgin blest Hath laid her Babe to rest. Time is our tedious song should here have ending: Hath fixed her polished car, Her sleeping Lord with handmaid lamp attending ; And all about the courtly stable Bright-harnessed Angels sit in order serviceable. UPON THE CIRCUMCISION. YE flaming Powers, and wingèd Warriors bright, 230 240 Burn in your sighs, and borrow Seas wept from our deep sorrow. He who with all Heaven's heraldry whilere Entered the world now bleeds to give us ease. Sore doth begin His infancy to seize! O more exceeding love, or law more just? And that great covenant which we still transgress And the full wrath beside Of vengeful justice bore for our excess, Ard seals obedience first with wounding smart This day; but oh! ere long, Huge pangs and strong Will pierce more near his heart. THE PASSION. 1. EREWHILE of music, and ethereal mirth, But headlong joy is ever on the wing, In wintry solstice like the shortened light Soon swallowed up in dark and long outliving night II. 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, Most perfect Hero, tried in heaviest plight Of labours huge and hard, too hard for human wight! III. He, sovran Priest, stooping his regal head, His starry front low-roofed beneath the skies: Oh, what a mask was there, what a disguise! Yet more the stroke of death he must abide; IV. These latest scenes confine my roving verse; His godlike acts, and his temptations fierce, Of lute, or viol still, more apt for mournful things. 20 V. Befriend me, Night, best patroness of grief! And work my flattered fancy to belief That heaven and earth are coloured with my woe; The leaves should all be black whereon I write, 30% And letters, where my tears have washed, a wannish white. VI. See, see the chariot, and those rushing wheels, (In pensive trance, and anguish, and ecstatic fit. VII. Mine eye hath found that sad sepulchral rock 40 And here, though grief my feeble hands up-lock, My plaining verse as lively as before; For sure so well instructed are my tears That they would fitly fall in ordered characters. VIII. Or, should I thence, hurried on viewless wing, Might think the infection of my sorrows loud 50 This Subject the Author finding to be above the years he had when he wrote it, and nothing satisfied with what was begun, left it unfinished. ON TIME. FLY, envious Time, till thou run out thy race: So little is our loss, So little is thy gain! For, whenas each thing bad thou hast entombed, And, last of all, thy greedy self consumed, Then long Eternity shall greet our bliss With an individual kiss, And Joy shall overtake us as a flood; When every thing that is sincerely good 10 And perfectly divine, With Truth, and Peace, and Love, shall ever shine About the supreme throne Of Him, to whose happy-making sight alone When once our heavenly-guided soul shall climb, Then, all this earthy grossness quit, Attired with stars we shall for ever sit, 20 Triumphing over Death, and Chance, and thee, O Time! AT A SOLEMN MUSIC. BLEST pair of Sirens, pledges of Heaven's joy, With saintly shout and solemn jubilee; With those just Spirits that wear victorious palms, Singing everlastingly : That we on Earth, with undiscording voice, May rightly answer that melodious noise; As once we did, till disproportioned sin IO Jarred against nature's chime, and with harsh din 20 To their great Lord, whose love their motion swayed in perfect diapason, whilst they stood In first obedience, and their state of good. O, may we soon again renew that song, And keep in tune with Heaven, till God ere long To his celestial consort us unite, To live with Him, and sing in endless morn of light! SONG ON MAY MORNING. Now the bright morning-star, Day's harbinger, Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire 10 |