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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 enlighten'd world no more should need;
He saw a greater sun appear
Than his bright throne, or burning axletree could bear.


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 poise,

As all their souls in blissful rapture took :
The air such pleasure loth to lose,
With thousand echoes still prolongs each leaven.y close.

Nature that heard such sound,
Beneath the hollow round

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.

'God of shepherds.


At last surrounds their sight
A globe of circular light,

That with long beams the shamefaced night array'd;
The helmed Cherubim
And sworded Seraphim,

Are seen in glittering ranks with wings display'd, Harping in loud and solemn quire, With unexpressive notes to Heaven's new-born Heir.

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,
And bid the welt’ring waves their oozy channel keep.




Ring out, ye crystal spheres,
Once bless our human ears,

have power to touch our senses so;
And let your silver chime
Move in melodious time,

And let the base of heav'n's deep organ blows
And with your ninefold harmony
Make up full consort to the angelic symphony.


For if such holy song
Inwrap our fancy long,
Time will run back, and fetch the


of gold, And speckled Vanity 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.


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,

With radiant feet the tissued clouds down steering:
And heav'n, 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 wakeful trump of doom must thunder through the deep;


With such a horrid clang
As on mount Sinai rang,

While the red fire, and smouldering clouds out brake :
The agèd earth aghast,
With terror of that blast,

Shall from the surface to the centre shake;
When at the world's last session,
The dreadful Judge in middle air shall spread His throne.

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 usurpèd 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 thro’ 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 breathèd spell
Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell

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 flow 'r-inwoven tresses torn
The Nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets mour.

In consecrated earth,
And on the holy hearth,

The Lars,' and Lemures 8 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 Pow'r foregoes his wonted seats

Peor and Baälim
Forsake their temples dim,

With that twice-batter'd God of Palestine ;4

1 Alluding to the voice said to have been heard by mariners at sea, crying, The great Pan is dead." The story is told by Plutarch.

& Household goda
1 Ghosts.
• Dagon.

And moonèd Ashtaroth,
Heav'n's queen and mother both,

Now sits not girt with tapers' holy shine ;
The Lybic Hammon shrinks his horn,
In vain the Tyrian maids their wounded Thammuzo mourn,

And sullen Moloch fled, 8
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 Memphiar grove or green,

Trampling the unshower'd grass with lowings loud:
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-stolèd 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,
Can in His swaddling bands control the damned crew.


1 She was called “Regina coeli" and “Mater Deum."--NEWTON.

2 Adonis. He was killed by a wild boar on Mount Lebanon, and was wor.

shipped once a year by the Syrian

3 The god of the Ammonites
• The Egyptian ex-god.

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