V. But peaceful was the night His reign of peace upon the earth began. Smoothly the waters kissed, Whispering new joys to the mild Ocean, Who now hath quite forgot to rave, While (birds of calm) sit brooding on the (charmèd wave. VI. The stars, with deep amaze, Bending one way their precious influence, For all the morning light, Or Lucifer that often warned them thence; But in their glimmering orbs) did glow, Until their Lord himself bešpake, and bid them go. VII. And, though the shady gloom Had given day her room, The Sun himself withheld his wonted speed, And hid his head for shame, As his inferior flame The new-enlightened world no more should need: He saw a greater Sun appear Than his bright throne or burning axletree) could bear. 70 80 VIII. The shepherds on the lawn, Or ere the point of dawn, Sat simply chatting in a rustic (row) Full little thought they than That the mighty Pan Was kindly come to live with them below: 90 Was all that did their silly thoughts so busy keep. Perhaps their loves, or else their sheep, When such music sweet IX. Their hearts and ears did greet Answering the stringed noise, As all their souls in blissful rapture took : The air, such pleasure loth to lose, With thousand echoes still prolongs each heavenly lose. X. Nature, that heard such sound (Of Cynthia's seat the Airy 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. XI. At last surrounds their sight A globe of circular light, That with long beams the shamefaced Night arrayed; The helmèd cherubim And sworded seraphim) Are seen in glittering ranks with wings displayed, Harping in loud and solemn quire, With unexpressive notes, to Heaven's new-born Heir. 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,) And bid the weltering waves their pozy channel keep. ΠΟ 120 XIII. Ring out, ye crystal spheres ! If ye have power to touch our senses so; 'Move in melodious time; And let the bass of heaven's deep organ blow; And with your ninefold harmony Make up full consort to the angelic symphony. 130 For, if such holy song XIV. Time will run back and fetch the Age of Gold; Will sicken soon and die, And leprous Sin will melt from earthly mould; And Hell itself will pass away, And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering day. 140 XV. Yea, Truth and Justice then Will down return to men, Orbed in a rainbow; and, like (glories) wearing, Mercy will sit between, Throned in delestial sheen, With radiant feet the tissued clouds) down steering; And Heaven, as at some festival, Will open wide the gates of her high palace-hall. XVI. But wisest Fate says No, The Babe lies yet in smiling infancy Must redeem our loss, So both himself and us to glorify: Yet first, to those (ychained) in sleep, 150 The wakeful trump of doom must thunder through the deep, XVII. With such a horrid clang As on Mount Sinai rang, While the red fire and smouldering clouds outbrake: The aged Earth, aghast With terror of that blast, Shall from the surface to the centre shake, When, at the world's last session, 160 The dreadful Judge in middle air shall spread his throne. XVIII. 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, 170 XIX. The Oracles are dumb; No voice or hideous hum Runs through the archèd roof in words deceiving. 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. 180 XX. 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 The Nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets mourn. In consecrated earth, XXI. And on the holy hearth, The Lars and Lemures moan with midnight plaint, In urns, and altars round, A drear and dying sound Affrights the flamens at their service quaint; And the chill marble seems to sweat, While each peculiar power forgoes his wonted seat. XXII. 190 Peor and Baälim Forsake their temples dim, With that twice-battered god of Palestine; Heaven's queen and mother both, Now sits not girt with tapers holy shine: The Libyc Hammon shrinks his horn; 200 In vain the Tyrian maids their wounded Thammuz mourn. XXIIL And sullen Moloch, fled, Hath left in shadows dread His burning idol all of blackest hue; 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 Osiris Nor is Osiris seen XXIV. In Memphian grove or green, Trampling the unshowered grass with lowings loud; Within his sacred chest ; Nought but profoundest Hell can be his shroud; In vain, with timbreled anthems dark, The Sable-stolèd sorcerers bear his worshiped ark. 210 220 |