So ended she and all the rest around

To her redoubled that her vndersong,
Which said their brydale daye should not be long:
And gentle Eccho from the neighbour ground
Their accents did resound.

So forth those joyous Birdes did passe along,
Adowne the Lee, that to them murmurde low,
As he would speake, but that he lackt a tong,
Yet did by signes his glad affection show,
Making his streame run slow.

And all the foule which in his flood did dwell
Gan flock about these twaine, that did excell
The rest, so far as Cynthia doth shend
The lesser starres. So they, enranged well,
Did on those two attend,

And their best seruice lend

Against their wedding day, which was not long.

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Sweete Themmes! run softly, till I end my Song.

At length they all to mery London came,

To mery London, my most kyndly Nurse,

That to me gaue this Lifes first natiue sourse,
Though from another place I take my name,
An house of auncient fame.

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There when they came, whereas those bricky towres
The which on Themmes brode aged backe doe ryde,
Where now the studious Lawyers haue their bowers,
There whylome wont the Templer Knights to byde,
Till they decayd through pride;

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Next whereunto there standes a stately place,
Where oft I gayned giftes and goodly grace

Of that great Lord, which therein wont to dwell,

Whose want too well now feeles my freendles case;
But ah! here fits not well

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Olde woes, but joyes, to tell

Against the bridale daye, which is not long.

Sweete Themmes ! runne softly, till I end my Song.

Yet therein now doth lodge a noble Peer,

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Great Englands glory, and the Worlds wide wonder,

Whose dreadfull name late through all Spaine did thunder,
And Hercules two pillors standing neere

Did make to quake and feare.

Through al the world, fil'd with thy wide Alarmes,
Which some braue muse may sing

To ages following

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Vpon the Brydale day, which is not long.

Sweete Themmes ! runne softly, till I end my Song.

Fit for so goodly stature,

That like the twins of Joue they seem'd in sight,

Which decke the Bauldricke of the Heauens bright.
They two, forth pacing to the Riuers side,

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Receiued those two faire Brides, their Loues delight;
Which, at th' appointed tyde,

Each one did make his Bryde

Against their Brydale day, which is not long.

Sweete Themmes ! runne softly, till I end my Song.

180

MILTON.

HYMN ON THE NATIVITY.

I.

THIS is the month, and this the happy morn,
Wherein the Son of Heav'ns eternal King,
Of wedded Maid and Virgin mother born,
Our great redemption from above did bring;
For so the holy Sages once did sing:

That he our deadly forfeit should release,
And with his Father work us a perpetual peace.

II.

That glorious form, that light unsufferable,

5

And that far-beaming blaze of majesty,

Wherwith he wont at Heav'ns high councel-table
To sit the midst of Trinal Unity,

IO

He laid aside; and, here with us to be,
Forsook the courts of everlasting day,

And chose with us a darksom house of mortal clay.

III.

Say, heav'nly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein
Afford a present to the Infant God?

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Hast thou no vers, no hymn, or solemn strein,
To welcom him to this his new abode

Now while the Heav'n by the sun's team untrod
Hath took no print of the approching light,

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And all the spangled host keep watch in squadrons bright?

IV.

See how from far upon the eastern rode

O run, prevent them with thy humble ode,

The star-led Wisards haste with Odours sweet;

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And lay it lowly at his blessed feet;

Have thou the honour first thy Lord to greet,
And joyn thy voice unto the angel quire,

From out his secret altar toucht with hallow'd fire.

To hide her guilty front with innocent snow, And on her naked shame,

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Sent down the meek-eyed Peace;

She, crown'd with olive green, came softly sliding Down through the turning sphear,

His ready harbinger,

With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing, And, waving wide her mirtle wand,

She strikes a universall peace through sea and land.

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IV.

No war,

or battails sound,

Was heard the world around;

The idle spear and shield were high up hung; The hooked chariot stood

Unstain'd with hostile blood;

The trumpet spake not to the armed throng;

And kings sate still with awfull eye,

As if they surely knew their sovran Lord was by.

But peacefull was the night

Wherin the Prince of Light

V.

His raign of peace upon the earth began; The windes, with wonder whist,

Smoothly the waters kist,

Whispering new joyes to the milde ocean,

Who now hath quite forgot to rave,

While birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed wave.

The stars, with deep amaze,

Stand fixt in stedfast gaze,

VI.

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60

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Bending one way their pretious influence,

And will not take their flight

For all the morning light

Or Lucifer that often warn'd them thence;

But in their glimmering orbs did glow,

Untill their Lord himself bespake, and bid them go.

VII.

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The new-enlightn'd world no more should need;

He saw a greater sun appear

Then his bright throne or burning axle-tree could bear.