In every province? who, themselves disdaining To approach thy temples, give thee in command What to the smallest tittle thou shalt say To thy adorers? thou with trembling fear, Or like a fawning parasite, obey'st; Then to thyself ascribest the truth foretold. But this thy glory shall be soon retrench'd; No more shalt thou by oracling abuse The Gentiles; henceforth oracles are ceased, And thou no more, with pomp and sacrifice, Shalt be inquired at Delphos or elsewhere, At least in vain, for they shall find thee mute. God hath now sent his living oracle Into the world to teach his final will, And sends his Spirit of truth henceforth to dwell In pious hearts, and inward oracle
To all truth requisite for men to know.
So spake Though inly stung with anger and disdain, Dissembled, and this answer smooth return'd: Sharply thou hast insisted on rebuke, And urged me hard with doings, which not will, Put misery, hath wrested from me; where Easily canst thou find one miserable, And not enforced ofttimes to part from truth ; If it may stand him more in stead to lie, Say and unsay, feign, flatter, or abjure? But thou art placed above me, thou art Lord; From thee I can, and must, submiss, endure reproof, and glad to 'scape so quit.
our Saviour; but the subtle fiend,
Hard are the ways of truth, and rough to walk,
on the tongue discoursed, pleasing to the
And tunable as sylvan pipe or song; What wonder then if I delight to hear Her dictates from thy mouth? Most men admire Virtue, who follow not her lore: permit me To hear thee when I come, since no man comes, And talk at least, though I despair to attain. Thy Father, who is holy, wise, and pure, Suffers the hypocrite or atheous priest To tread his sacred courts, and minister About his altar, handling holy things,
To Balaam reprobate, a prophet yet Inspired; disdain not such access to me. To whom our Saviour, with unalter'd brow: Thy coming hither, though I know thy scope, I bid not, or forbid; do as thou find'st Permission from above; thou canst not more His gray dissimulation, disappear'd He added not; and Satan, bowing low
vowing, and vouchsafed his voice
Into thin air diffused: for now began
Night with her sullen wings to double-shade
The desert; fowls in their clay nests were couch'd; And now wild beasts came forth the woods to roam.
MEANWHILE the new-baptized, who yet remain'd At Jordan with the Baptist, and had seen Him whom they heard so late expressly call'd Jesus, Messiah, Son of God declared,
And on that high authority had believed,
And with him talk'd, and with him lodged; I mean Andrew and Simon, famous after known,
With others, though in holy writ not named,
Now missing him, their joy so lately found, So lately found, and so abruptly gone,
Began to doubt, and doubted many days
And, as the days increased, increased their doubt: Sometimes they thought he might be only shown, And for a time caught up to God, as once Moses was in the mount, and missing long; And the great Tishbite, who on fiery wheels Rode up to heaven, yet once again to come. Therefore, as those young prophets then with care Sought lost Elijah, so in each place these Nigh to Bethabara; in Jericho
The city of palms, Ænon, and Salem old, Machærus, and each town or city wall'd On this side the broad lake Gennezaret, Or in Peræa; but return'd in vain. Then on the bank of Jordan, by a creek,
Where winds with reeds and osiers whispering play, Plain fishermen, no greater men them call, Close in a cottage low together got,
Their unexpected loss and plaints outbreathed Alas, from what high hope to what relapse Unlook'd for are we fallen! our eyes beheld Messiah certainly now come, so long Expected of our fathers; we have heard His words, his wisdom full of grace and truth. Now, now, for sure, deliverance is at hand, The kingdom shall to Israel be restored; Thus we rejoiced, but soon our joy is turn'd Into perplexity and new amaze: For whither is he gone? what accident Hath wrapt him from us? will he now retire After appearance, and again prolong Our expectation? God of Israel,
Send thy Messiah forth, the time is come; Behold the kings of the earth, how they oppress Thy chosen, to what height their power unjust They have exalted, and behind them cast All fear of thee. Arise and vindicate Thy glory, free thy people from their yoke. But let us wait; thus far he hath perform'd, Sent his Anointed, and to us reveal'd him, By his great prophet, pointed at and shown In public, and with him we have conversed Let us be glad of this, and all our fears Lay on his providence; he will not fail, Nor will withdraw him now, nor will recall, Mock us with his blest sight, then snatch him hence; Soon we shall see our hope, our joy, return.
Thus they, out of their plaints, new hope resume To find whom at the first they found unsought: But, to his mother Mary, when she saw Others return'd from baptism, not her Son, Nor left at Jordan, tidings of him none,
Within her breast though calm, her breast though pure, Motherly cares and fears got head, and raised Some troubled thoughts, which she in sighs thus clad : Oh, what avails me now that honour high To have conceived of God, or that salute, Hail, highly favour'd, among women blest While I to sorrows am no less advanced, And fears as eminent, above the lot Of other women, by the birth I bore, In such a season born, when scarce a shed Could be obtain'd to shelter him or me From the bleak air! a stable was our warmth, A manger his: yet soon enforced to fly Thence into Egypt, till the murderous king Were dead, who sought his life, and missing fill'd With infant blood the streets of Bethlehem; From Egypt home return'd, in Nazareth
Private, unactive, calm, contemplative, Little suspicious to any king; but now Full grown to man, acknowledged, as I hear, By John the Baptist, and in public shown, Son own'd from heaven by his Father's voice; I look'd for some great change: to honour? no,
Our dwelling many years; his life
That to the fall and rising he should be as old Simeon plain foretold, Of many in Israel, and to a sign Spoken against, that through my very soul A sword shall pierce. This is my favour'd lot, My exaltations to afflictions high! Afflicted I may be, it seems, and blest; I will not argue that, nor will repine.
But where delays he now? some great intent Conceals him. When twelve years he scarce had seen, I lost him, but so found, as well I saw
He could not lose himself; but went about
His Father's business. What he meant I mused, Since understand. Much more his absence now Thus long to some great purpose he obscures. But I to wait with patience am inured; My heart hath been a storehouse long of things And sayings laid up, portending strange events. Thus Mary, pondering oft, and oft to mind Recalling what remarkably had pass'd Since first her salutation heard, with thoughts Meekly composed awaited the fulfilling: The while her Son, tracing the desert wild, Sole, but with holiest meditations fed, Into himself descended, and at once All his great work to come before him set; How to begin, how to accomplish best His end of being on earth, and mission high: For Satan, with sly preface to return, Had left him vacant, and with speed was gone Up to the middle region of thick air, Where all his potentates in council sat; There, without sign of boast, or sign of joy, Solicitous and blank he thus began:
Princes, heaven's ancient sons, ethereal thrones, Demonian spirits now, from the element
Each of his reign allotted, rightlier call'd
Powers of fire, air, water, and earth beneath,
So may we hold our place, and these mild seats Without new trouble; such an enemy
Is risen to invade us, who no less
Threatens than our expulsion down to hell;
I, as I undertook, and with the vote
Consenting in full frequence, was empower'd,
Have found him, view'd him, tasted him, but find
Far other labour to be undergone
Than when I dealt with Adam, first of men,
Though Adam by his wife's allurement fell,
However to this man inferior far,
If he be man by mother's side at least,
With more than human gifts from heaven adorn'd,
Perfections absolute, graces divine,
And amplitude of mind to greatest deeds. Therefore I am return'd, lest confidence Of my success with Eve in Paradise Deceive ye to persuasion over-sure Of like succeeding here; I summon all Rather to be in readiness, with hand Or counsel to assist; lest I, who erst Thought none my equal, now be over-match'd.
So spake the old serpent doubting, and from all With clamour was assured their utmost aid At his command; when from amidst them rose Belial, the dissolutest spirit that fell, The sensualest, and after Asmodai The fleshliest incubus, and thus advised: Set women in his eye, and in his walk, Among daughters of men the fairest found; Many are in each region passing fair As the noon sky; more like to goddesses Than mortal creatures, graceful and discreet, Expert in amorous arts, enchanting tongues Persuasive, virgin majesty with mild And sweet allay'd, yet terrible to approach, Skill'd to retire, and in retiring draw Hearts after them, tangled in amorous nets. Such object hath the power to soften and tame Severest temper, smooth the rugged'st brow, Enerve, and with voluptuous hope dissolve, Draw out with credulous desire, and lead At will the manliest, resolutest breast, As the magnetic hardest iron draws. Women, when nothing else, beguiled the heart Of wisest Solomon, and made him build, And made him bow, to the gods of his wives. To whom quick answer Satan thus return'd: Belial, in much uneven scale thou weighest All others by thyself; because of old Thou thyself doat'st on womankind, admiring Their shape, their colour, and attractive grace, None are, thou think'st, but taken with such toys. Before the flood thou, with thy lusty crew, False titled sons of God, roaming the earth, Cast wanton eyes on the daughters of men, And coupled with them, and begot a race. Have we not seen, or by relation heard,
In courts and regal chambers how thou lurk'st, In wood or grove by mossy fountain-side, In valley or green meadow, to way-lay
Some beauty rare, Calisto, Clymene,
Daphne, or Semele, Antiopa,
Or Amymone, Syrinx, many more
Too long, then lay'st thy scapes on names adored,
Apollo, Neptune, Jupiter, or Pan,
Satyr, or Fawn, or Sylvan? But these haunts
Delight not all; among the sons of men,
How many have with a smile made small account Of beauty and her lures, easily scorn'd
All her assaults, on worthier things intent! Remember that Pellean conqueror,
A youth, how all the beauties of the East He slightly view'd, and slightly overpass'd;
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