SUBJECT ILLUSTRATED. 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, Not Typhon huge ending in snaky twine : Our Babe, to show his Godhead true, Can in his swaddling bands controul the damned crew. INFANT HERCULES STRANGLING THE SNAKE INFANT JESUS TRIUMPHING OVER HEATHEN Gods. So, when the sun in bed, Curtain'd with cloudy red, Pillows his chin upon an orient wave, The flocking shadows pale Troop to the infernal jail, Each fetter'd ghost slips to his several grave; And the yellow-skirted Fayes Fly after the night-steeds, leaving their moon loved maze. But see, the Virgin blest Hath laid her Babe to rest; Time is, our tedious song should here have ending; Heaven's youngest-teemed star Hath fix'd her polish'd car, Her sleeping Lord with handmaid lamp attending: And all about the courtly stable Bright harness'd Angels sit in order serviceable." L. Frölich. 43 THIS is the month, and this the happy morn, That he our deadly forfeit should release, And with his Father work us a perpetual peace. That glorious form, that light unsufferable, And that far-beaming blaze of majesty, Wherewith he wont at Heaven's high council-table To sit the midst of Trinal Unity, He laid aside; and, here with us to be, |