Divinely warbled voice, Anfw'ring the stringed noise, As all their Souls in blissful rapture took; The Air fuch pleasure loth to lose, [clofe With thousand echos ftill prolongs each heav'nly X. Nature that heard fuch found Beneath the hollow round Of Cynthia's feat, 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 fuch harmony alone Could hold all Heav'n and Earth in happier union. XI. At laft furrounds their fight A Globe of circular light, That with long beams the fhame-fac'd night array'd; The helmed Cherubim, And fworded Seraphim, Are seen in glittering ranks with wings display'd, Harping in loud and folemn Choir, With inexpreffive notes, to Heav'n's new-born Heir, XII. Such Mufick (as 'tis faid) Before was never made, But when of old the f fons of morning fung, While the Creator great His Conftellations fet, And the well-ballanc'd world on hinges hung, A. And caft the dark foundations deep, And And bid the weltring waves their oozy channel keep, XIII. Ring out, ye Crystal Sphears, Once bless our human ears, (If ye have pow'r to touch our fenfes fo) And let your filver chime Move in melodious time, And let the Bafs of Heav'n's deep Organ blow; And with your ninefold harmony Make up full confort to th' Angelic Symphony. For if fuch holy Song Enwrap our fancy long, XIV. Time will run back, and fetch the age of gold, And fpeckled vanity Will ficken foon and die, And leprous fin will melt from earthly mould, And Hell itself will pass away, [day. And leave her dolorous manfions 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 steering; And Heav'n, as at fome Festival, Will open wide the Gates of her high Palace-Hall. But wifeft Fate fays no, The The Babe lies yet in smiling Infancy, That on the bitter cross Muft redeem our lofs; So both himself and us to glorifie : Yet first to those ychain'd in sleep, [deep. The wakeful trump of doom muft thunder thro' the XVII. With fuch a horrid clang As on Mount Sinai rang, [brake: While the red fire, and fmouldring clouds out The aged Earth, aghast With terrour of that blaft, Shall from the furface to the centre shake; When at the world's laft feffion, [throne. The dreadful Judge in middle Air shall spread his XVIII. And then at last our bliss Full and perfect is ; But now begins: for from this happy day Th' old Dragon under ground In ftraiter limits bound, Not half fo far cafts his ufurped fway, And wroth to fee his Kingdom fail, Swindges the fcaly Horrour of his folded tail. The Oracles are dumb; XIX. No voice or hideous hum Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving: Apollo from his fhrine Can no more divine, With hollow fhriek the fleep of Delphos leaving. No No nightly trance, or breathed fpell, Infpires the pale-ey'd Prieft from the prophetic cell. XX. The lonely mountains o'er, And the refounding shore, A voice of weeping heard, and loud lament; From haunted fpring, and dale, Edg'd with poplar pale, The parting Genius is with fighing fent : With flow'r-inwov'n treffes torn, [mourn. The Nymphs in twilight fhade of tangled thickets In confecrated Earth, And on the holy Hearth, XXI. Th' Lares and Lemures moan with midnight plaint; In Urns, and Altars round, A drear and dying found Affrights the Flamins at their fervice quaint; And the chill Marble seems to sweat, While each peculiar Pow'r forgoes his wonted feat. XXII. Peor and Baalim Forfake their Temples dim, With that twice batter'd god of Palefine; And mooned Aftaroth, Heav'n's Queen and Mother both, '. Now fits not girt with Taper's holy shine; The Libyc Hammon fhrinks his horn; [mourn. In vain the Tyrian Maids their wounded Thamuz And And fullen Moloch fled, XXIII. Hath left in fhadows dread His burning Idol all of blackest hue; In vain, with Cymbals ring, They call the griefly King, In difmal dance about the furnace blue; The brutish gods of Nile as fast, Ifis and Orus, and the Dog Anubis, haste. Nor is Ofiris feen, XXIV. In Mempbian Grove, or Green, [loud: Trampling the unfhowr'd Grafs with lowings Nor can he be at reft Within his facred cheft; Nought but profoundest Hell can be his shroud: In vain with timbrel'd Anthems dark The fable-ftoled Sorc'rers bear his worshipp'd Ark. XXV. He feels from Juda's Land The dreaded Infant's hand; The rays of Bethlehem blind his dusky eyn; Nor all the Gods befide Longer dare abide, Not Typhon huge ending in fnaky twine: Our Babe, to fhew his Godhead true, Can in his fwadling-bands controul the damned crew. |