CCLXXI.

Th' Eternal heard, and from the heav'nly choir
Chofe out the cherub with the flaming fword;
And bad him swiftly drive th' approaching fire
From where our naval magazines were flor'd.
CCLXXII.

The bleffed minifter his wings difplay'd,

And like a shooting star he cleft the night :
He charg'd the flames, and those that disobey'd,
He lafh'd to duty with his fword of light.
CCLXXIII.

The fugitive flames, chaftis'd, went forth to prey,
On pious ftructures, by our fathers rear'd;
By which to heav'n they did affect the way,

Ere faith in churchmen without works was heard.

CCLXXIV.

The wanting orphans faw, with watʼry eyes,
Their founders charity in duft laid low;
And fent to God their ever-anfwer'd cries:
For he protects the poor who made them fo.
CCLXXV.

Nor could thy fabric, Paul's, defend thee long,
Though thou wert facred to thy Maker's praise :
Though made immortal by a poet's fong:

And poets fongs the Theban walls could raife.
CCLXXVI.

The daring flames peep'd in, and faw from far
The awful beauties of the facred quire:
But fince it was prophan'd by civil war,

Heav'n thought it fit to have it purg'd by fire.
CCLXXVII.

Now down the narrow streets it fwiftly came,
And, widely opening, did on both sides prey;

This benefit we fadly owe the flame,

If only ruin muft enlarge our way.
CCLXXVIII.

And now, four days the fun had feen our woes;
Four nights the moon beheld th' inceffant fire;
It feem'd as if the ftars more fickly rofe,

And farther from the fev'rifh north retire.
CCLXXIX.

In th' empyrean heav'n, the blefs'd abode,
The thrones and the dominions proftrate ly,
Not daring to behold their angry God;

And an hufh'd filence damps the tuneful sky,
CCLXXX.

At length th' Almighty cast a pitying eye,
And mercy foftly touch'd his melting breaft;
He faw the town's one half in rubbish lie,
And eager flames drive on to form the reft.
CCLXXXI.

An hollow crystal pyramid he takes,

In firmamental waters dipt above;

Of it a broad extinguisher he makes,

And hoods the flames that to their quarry ftrove.
CCLXXXII.

The vanquish'd fires withdraw from every place,
Or, full with feeding, fink into a fleep:

Each houshold genius fhews again his face,

And from the hearths the little Lares creep.
CCLXXXIII.

Our king this more than natural change beholds;
With fober joys his heart and eyes abound:

To the All-good his lifted hands he folds,

And thanks him low on his redeemed ground.

CCLXXXIV.

As when sharp frofts had long constrain'd the earth,
A kindly thaw unlocks it with cold rain;

And first the tender blade peeps up to birth, [grain.
And ftraight the green fields laugh with promis'd
CCLXXXV.

By fuch degrees the spreading gladness grew
In every heart, which fear had froze before:
The standing streets with fo much joy they view,
That with lefs grief the perish'd they deplore.
CCLXXXVI.

The father of the people open'd wide

His ftores, and all the poor with plenty fed: Thus God's anointed God's own place fupply'd, And fill'd the empty with his daily bread.

CCLXXXVII.

This royal bounty brought its own reward,

And in their minds fo deep did print the fenfe; That, if their ruins fadly they regard,

'Tis but with fear, the fight might drive him thence. CCLXXXVI!!.

*But fo may he live long, that town to fway, Which by his aufpice they will nobler make,

As he will hatch their afhes by his itay,

And, not their humble ruins now forfake.
CCLXXXIX.

They have not loft their loyalty by fire;
Nor is their courage or their wealth fo low,
That from his wars they poorly would retire,
Or beg the pity of a vanquish'd foe.

*

City's request to the king not to leave them.

CCXC.

Not with more conftancy the Jews of old,
By Cyrus from rewarded exile fent,
Their royal city did in duft behold,

Or with more vigour to rebuild it went.
CCXCI.

The utmost malice of the ftars is paft,

And two dire comets, which have fcourg'd the town, In their own plague and fire have breath'd their last, Or, dimly, in their finking fockets frown.

CCXCII.

Now frequent trines the happier lights among,

And high-rais'd Jove from his dark prifon freed, (Those weights took off that on his planet hung) Will gloriously the new-laid works fucceed.

CCXCIII.

Methinks already, from this chymic flame,
I fee a city of more precious mold :

Rich as the town which gives the * Indies name,
With filver pav'd, and all divine with gold.
CCXCIV.

Already, labouring with a mighty fate,

She shakes the rubbish from her mounting brow, And feems to have renew'd her charter's date,

Which heav'n will to the death of time allow.
CCXCV.

More great than human, now, and more † August,
New deified the from her fires does rife:

* Mexico.

Angufta, the old name of London.

Her widening ftreets on new foundations truft,
And, opening, into larger parts fhe flies.

CCXCVI.

Before, fhe like fome fhepherdefs did fhow,
Who fat to bathe her by a river's fide;
Not answering to her fame, but rude and low,
Nor taught the beauteous arts of modern pride.
CCXCVII.

Now, like a maiden queen, fhe will behold,

From her high turrets, hourly fuitors come: The Eaft with incenfe, and the Weft with gold, Will stand, like fuppliants, to receive her doom. CCXCVIII.

The filent Thames, her own domeftic flood,
Shall bear her veffels, like a fweeping train;
And often wind, as of his miftrefs proud,
With longing eyes to meet her face again.

CCXCIX.

The wealthy Tagus, and the wealthier Rhine,

The glory of their towns no more shall boaft,
And Sein, that would with Belgian rivers join,
Shall find her luftre ftain'd, and traffic loft.
CCC.

The vent'rous merchant, who defign'd more far,
And touches on our hofpitable shore,

Charm'd with the fplendor of this Northern ftar,
Shall here unlade him, and depart no more.
CCCI.

Our powerful navy fhall no longer meet,
The wealth of France or Holland to invade:
The beauty of this town, without a fleet,

From all the world fhall vindicate her trade.