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But wisest Fate sayes no,
This must not yet be so,
The Babe lies yet in smiling Infancy,
That on the bitter cross
Must redeem our loss;
So both himself and us to glorifie:
Yet first to those ychain'd in sleep,
The wakefull trump of doom must thunder through the deep,
With such a horrid clang
As on mount Sinai rang
While the red fire, and smouldring clouds out brake:
The aged Earth agast
160 With terrour of that blast,
Shall from the surface to the center shake, When at the worlds last session, The dreadfull 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
Th'old Dragon under ground
In straiter limits bound,
Not half so far casts his usurped sway,
And wrath to see his Kingdom fail,
Swindges the scaly Horrour of his foulded tail.
The Oracles are dumm,
No voice or hideous humm
Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving.
Apollo from his shrine
Can no more divine,
With hollow shreik the steep of Delphos leaving.
'No nightly trance, or breathed spell,
Inspire's the pale-ey'd Priest from the prophetic cell.
The lonely mountains o’re,
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 sighing sent,
With flowre-inwov'n tresses torn
The Nimphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets mourn.
In consecrated Earth,
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 Flamins at their service quaint;
And the chill Marble seems to sweat,
While each peculiar power forgoes his wonted seat.
Peor, and Baalim,
Forsake their Temples dim,
With that twise-batter'd god of Palestine,
And mooned Ashtaroth,
Heav'ns Queen, and Mother both,
Now sits not girt with Tapers holy shine,
The Libyc Hammon shrinks his horn,
In vain the Tyrian Maids their wounded Thamuz mourn.
And sullen Moloch Aled,
Hath left in shadows dred,
His burning Idol all of blackest. hue,
In vain with Cymbals ring,
They call the grisly king,
In dismall dance about the furnace blue;
The brutish gods of Nile as fast,
Isis and Orus, and the Dog Anubis hast.
Nor is Osiris seen
In Memphian Grove, or Green,
Trampling the unshowr'd Grasse with lowings loud:
Nor can he be at rest
Within his sacred chest,
Naught but profoundest Hell can be his shroud,
In vain with Timbrel'd Anthems dark
The sable-stoled Sorcerers bear his worshipt Ark.
He feels from Juda's Land
The dredded Infants hand,
The rayes of Bethlehem blind his dusky eyn;
Nor all the gods beside,
Longer dare abide,
Not Typhon huge ending in snaky twine :
Our Babe to shew his Godhead true,
Can in his swadling bands controul the damned crew.
So when the Sun in bed,
Curtain'd with cloudy red,
Pillows his chin upon an Orient wave,
The flocking shadows pale,
Troop to th’infernall jail,
Each fetter'd Ghost slips to his severall grave, And the yellow-skirted Fayes, Fly after the Night-steeds, leaving their Moon-lov'd maze.
But see the Virgin blest,
Hath laid her Babe to rest.
Time is our tedious Song should here have ending,
Heav'ns youngest teemed Star,
240 Hath fixt her polisht Car,
Her sleeping Lord with Handmaid Lamp attending:
And all about the Courtly Stable,
Bright-harnest Angels sit in order serviceable.
A Paraphrase on Psalm 114.
This and the following Psalm were don
by the Author at fifteen yeers old.
WHEN the blest seed of Terah's faithfull Son,
After long toil their liberty had won,
And past from Pharian fields to Canaan Land,
Led by the strength of the Almighties hand,
Jehovah's wonders were in Israel shown,
His praise and glory was in Israel known.
That saw the troubl’d Sea, and shivering flea,
And sought to hide his froth-becurled head
Low in the earth, Jordans clear streams recoil,
As a faint host that hath receiv'd the foil.
The high, huge-bellied Mountains skip like Rams
Amongst their Ews, the little Hills like Lambs.
Why hed the Ocean? And why skipt the Mountains ?
Why turned Jordan toward his Crystall Fountains ?
Shake earth, and at the presence be agast
Of him that ever was, and ay shall last,
That glassy Aouds from rugged rocks can crush,
And make soft rills from fiery flint-stones gush.
LET us with a gladsom mind
Praise the Lord, for he is kind,
For his mercies ay endure,
Ever faithfull, ever sure.
Let us blaze his Name abroad,
For of gods he is the God;
O let us his praises tell,
That doth the wrathfull tyrants quell.
That with his miracles doth make
Amazed Heav'n and Earth to shake.
Psalm 136. 10, 13 That] who 1673
That by his wisdom did create
The painted Heav'ns so full of state.
That did the solid Earth ordain
To rise above the watry plain.
That by his all-commanding might,
Did fill the new-made world with light.
And caus'd the Golden-tressed Sun,
All the day long his cours to run.
The horned Moon to shine by night,
Amongst her spangled sisters bright.
He with his thunder-clasping hand,
Smote the first-born of Egypt Land.
And in despight of Pharao fell,
He brought from thence his Israel.
The ruddy waves he cleft in twain,
Of the Erythræan main.
The floods stood still like Walls of Glass,
While the Hebrew Bands did pass.
But full soon they did devour
The Tawny King with all his power.
His chosen people he did bless
In the wastfull Wildernes.