The shepherds on the lawn,

Or e'er the point of dawn,

Sat simply chatting in a rustic row; Full little thought they then,

That the mighty Pan

Was kindly come to live with them below; Perhaps their loves, or else their sheep, Was all that did their silly thoughts so busy keep.

When such music sweet

Their hearts and ears did greet,

As never was by mortal finger strook; Divinely-warbled voice

Answering the stringed noise,

As all their souls in blissful rapture took :

The air, such pleasure loath to lose,

[close.

With thousand echoes still prolongs each heavenly

Nature that heard such sound,

Beneath the hollow round

Of Cynthia's seat, the aery region thrilling, Now was almost won

To think her part was done,

And that her reign had here its last fulfilling:

She knew such harmony alone

Could hold all heaven and earth in happier union.

At last surrounds their sight

A globe of circular light,

[ray'd;

That with long beams the shamefaced night ar

The helmed Cherubim,

And sworded Seraphim,

Are seen in glittering ranks with wings display'd,

Harping in loud and solemn quire,

[Heir.

With unexpressive notes, to Heaven's new-born

Such music (as 'tis said)

Before was never made,

But when of old the sons of morning sung, While the Creator great

His constellations set,

And the well-balanced world on hinges hung;

And cast the dark foundations deep,

[keep.

And bid the weltering waves their oozy channel

Ring out, ye crystal spheres!

Once bless our human ears,

If ye have power to touch our senses so; And let your silver chime

Move in melodious time;

And let the base of Heaven's deep organ blow; And, with your ninefold harmony,

Make up full consort to the angelic symphony.

For, if such holy song

Enwrap our fancy long,

Time will run back, and fetch the age

And speckled Vanity

Will sicken soon and die,

of gold;

And leprous Sin will melt from earthly mold; And Hell itself will pass away,

And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering day.

Yea, Truth and Justice then

Will down return to men,

Orb'd in a rainbow; and, like glories wearing, Mercy will sit between,

Throned in celestial sheen,

[ing;

With radiant feet the tissued clouds down steerAnd Heaven, as at some festival,

Will open wide the gates of her high palace hall.

But wisest Fate says no,

This must not yet be so,

The Babe yet lies 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 deep;

The wakeful trump of doom must thunder through

With such a horrid clang

As on mount Sinai rang,

[brake:

While the red fire and smouldering clouds out

The aged earth aghast,

With terror of that blast,

Shall from the surface to the centre shake;

When, at the world's last session.

[throne.

The dreadful Judge in middle air shall spread his

And then at last our bliss

Full and perfect is,

But now begins; for, from this happy day, The old Dragon, under ground

In straiter limits bound,

Not half so far casts his usurped sway;

And, wroth to see his kingdom fail,

Swinges the scaly horror of his folded tail.

The oracles are dumb,

No voice or hideous hum

Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. 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-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.

VOL. III.

M

The lonely mountains o'er,

And the resounding shore,

A voice of weeping heard and loud lament; From haunted spring and dale,

Edged with poplar pale,

The parting Genius is with sighing sent: With flower-inwoven tresses torn

[mourn.

The Nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets

In consecrated earth,

And on the holy hearth,

[plaint :

The Lars, and Lemures, moan with midnight

In urns, and altars round,

A drear and dying sound

Affrights the Flamens at their service quaint ; And the chill marble seems to sweat,

[seat.

While each peculiar Power foregoes his wonted

Peor and Baälim

Forsake their temples dim,

With that twice-batter'd god of Palestine; And mooned Ashtaroth,

Heaven's queen and mother both,

Now sits not girt with tapers' holy shine;

The Libyc Hammon shrinks his horn;

[mourn.

In vain the Tyrian maids their wounded Thammuz

And sullen Moloch, fled,

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 brutish gods of Nile as fast,

Isis, and Orus, and the dog Anubis, haste.

Nor is Osiris seen

In Memphian grove or green,

[loud:

Trampling the unshower'd grass with lowings

Nor can he be at rest

Within his sacred chest ;

Nought but profoundest hell can be his shroud: In vain with timbrell'd anthems dark

The sable-stoled sorcerers bear his worshipp'd ark.

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, [crew. Can in the swaddling bands controll the damned

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

[maze.

Fly after the night-steeds, leaving their moon-loved

But see, the Virgin bless'd

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,

[ing:

Her sleeping Lord with handmaid lamp attend

And all about the courtly stable

Bright-harness'd angels sit in order serviceable.