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Divinely warbled voice,
Answ'ring the stringed noise,

As all their Souls in blissful rapture took ;
The Air such pleasure loth to lose, (close.
With thousand echos still prolongs each heav'nly

Nature that heard such sound
Beneath the hollow round

Of Cyntbia's seat, the airy region thrilling,
Nove 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 Heav'n and Earth in happier union.

At last surrounds their fight
A Globe of circular light,
That with long beams the fame-fac'd night array'd;
The helmed Cherubim,
And sworded Seraphim,

Are seen in glittering ranks with wings display'd, Harping in loud and solemn Choir, With inexpressive notes, to Heav'n's new-born Heir,

Such Musick (as 'tis said).
Before was never made,

But when of old the fons.of morning sung,
While the Creator greaty
His Constellations set,

And the well-ballanc'd world on hinges -hung, S. And caft the dark foundations, deep, er s96.

And Isavia

And bid the weltring waves their oozy channel keep,

XII. Ring out, ye Crystal Sphears, Once bless our human ears,

(If ye have pow'r to touch our senses fo) And let your filver chime Move in melodious time,

And let the Bass of Heav'n's deep Organ blow; And with your ninefold harmony Make up full consort to th’ Angelic Symphony.

For if such holy Song
Enwrap our fancy long,

Time will run back, and fetch the age of gold,
And speckled vanity
Will ficken soon and die,

And leprous fin will melt from earthly mould,
And Hell itself will pass away,

[day. And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering

XV. Yea, Truth and Justice then Will down return to men, · Orb'd in a Rain-bow, and like glories wearing : Mercy will fit between, Thron'd in Celestial sheen,

With radiant feet the tissued clouds down fteering;
And Heav'n, as at some Festival,
Will open wide the Gates of her high Palace-Hall.

XVI, :
But wiseft Fate says no,
This must not yet be fo;


The Babe lies yet in smiling Infancy,
That on the bitter cross
Muft redeem our loss;

So both himself and us to glorifie :
Yet first to those ychain'd in deep, [deep.
The wakeful trump of doom must thunder thro' the

With such a horrid clang
As on Mount Sinai rang,

While the red fire, and smouldring clouds out
The aged Earth, aghaft
With terrour of that blast,
Shall from the surface to the centre Thake

; When at the world's last session, [thrane. 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
Th' old Dragon under ground
In straiter limits bound,

Not half so far cafts his usurped sway,
And wroth to see his Kingdom fail,
Swindges the scaly Horrour of his folded tail,

The Oracles are dumb ;
No voice or hideous hum

Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving:
Apollo from his fhrine
Can no more divine,
With hollow Mhriek the fteep of Delpbos leaving.


No nightly trance, or breathed spell,
Inspires the pale-ey'd 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,
Edg'd with poplar pale,

The parting Genius is with fighing fent :
With flow's-inwov'n treffes corn, [mourn.
The Nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets

In consecrated Earth,
And on the holy Hearth,

Th’Lares and Lemures moan with midnight plaint;
In Urns, and Altars round,
A drear and dying sound

Affrights the Flamins at their service quaint ;
And the chill Marble seems to sweat,
While each peculiar Pow'r forgoes his wonted seat.

Peor and Baalim
Forsake their Temples dim,

With that twice batter'd god of Pateftine ;-
And mooned Astarotb,
Heav'n's Queen and Mother both,'.

Now fits not girt with Taper's holy shine ;
The Libyc Hammon Shrinks his horn; [mourn.
In vain the Tyrian Maids their wounded Thamuz

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And fullen Molocb fied,
Hath left in shadows dread

His burning Idol all of blackest hue ;
In vain, with Cymbals ring,
They call the griefly King,

In dismal dance about the furnace blue;
The brutish gods of Nile as faft,
Ifs and Orus, and the Dog Anubis, haste.

Nor is Ofiris seen,
In Mempbian Grove, or Green,

Trampling the unshowr'd Grass with lowings
Nor can he be at reft
Within his facred cheft ;

Nought but profoundeft Hell can be his shroud : In vain with timbrel'd Anthems dark The fable-stoled Sorc'rers bear his worshipp'd Arke

He feels from Juda's Land
The dreaded Infant's hand;

The rays of Betblebem blind his dusky eyn;
Nor all the Gods beside
Longer dare abide,

Not Typbon huge ending in snaky twine :
Our Babe, to Mew his Godhead true,
Can in his swadling-bands controul the damned crew,

XXVI. So when the Sun in bed, Curtain'd with cloudy red,



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