The Lybic Hammon shrinks his horn, In vain the Tyrian maids their wounded Thammuz mourn. XXIII. 205 And sullen Moloch, fled, 210 Hath left in shadows dread His burning idol all of blackest hue; They call the grisly king, In dismal dance about the furnace blue; Isis and Orus, and the dog Anubis, haste. 215 Nor is Osiris seen XXIV. In Memphian grove or green, Trampling the unshowered 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 timbreled anthems dark 220 The sable-stolèd sorcerers bear his worshipped ark. XXV. He feels from Judah's land The dreaded Infant's hand, The rays of Bethlehem blind his dusky eyen; Nor all the gods beside 225 Longer dare abide, Nor Typhon huge ending in snaky twine ; Can in His swaddling bands control the damned crew. XXVI. So when the sun in bed, 230 Curtained with cloudy red, Pillows his chin upon an orient wave, The flocking shadows pale Troop to the infernal jail, Each fettered ghost slips to his several grave; 235 And the yellow-skirted fays Fly after the night-steeds, leaving their moon-loved maze. XXVII. But see, the Virgin blest Hath laid her Babe to rest; Time is, our tedious song should here have ending; 240 Heaven's youngest-teemèd star Hath fixed her polished car, Her sleeping Lord with handmaid lamp attending; And all about the courtly stable Bright-harnessed angels sit in order serviceable. ΤΡΟΛ UPON THE CIRCUMCISION. YE flaming Powers, and winged Warriors bright, That erst with music, and triumphant song, First heard by happy watchful shepherds' ear, Seas wept from our deep sorrow; 10 He, who with all Heaven's heraldry whilere Entered the world, now bleeds to give us ease; Alas, how soon our sin Sore doth begin His infancy to seize ! 15 Oh more exceeding love, or law more just? Were lost in death, till he, that dwelt above 20 Emptied his glory, even to nakedness; And that great covenant which we still transgress And the full wrath beside Of vengeful justice bore for our excess; 25 And seals obedience first, with wounding smart, This day; but oh, ere long, Huge pangs and strong Will pierce more near his heart. REWHILE of music, and ethereal mirth, Wherewith the stage of air and earth did ring, And joyous news of Heavenly Infant's birth, My Muse with Angels did divide to sing; 5 But headlong joy is ever on the wing, In wintry solstice like the shortened light Soon swallowed up in dark, and long out-living night. II. For now to sorrow must I tune my song, 10 Which on our dearest Lord did seize ere long, Dangers, and snares, and wrongs, and worse than so, Which he for us did freely undergo; Most perfect Hero, tried in heaviest plight Of labours huge and hard, too hard for human wight! III. 15 He; sovereign Priest, stooping his regal head, That dropped with odorous oil down his fair eyes, Poor fleshly tabernacle entered, 20 His starry front low-roofed beneath the skies; Yet more; the stroke of death he must abide, Then lies him meekly down fast by his brethren's side. IV. These latest scenes confine my roving verse; His godlike acts, and his temptations fierce, Of lute, or viol still, more apt for mournful things. V. Befriend me, Night, best patroness of grief! 30 Over the pole thy thickest mantle throw, And work my flattered fancy to belief That heaven and earth are coloured with my woe; The leaves should all be black whereon I write, 35 And letters, where my tears have washed, a wannish white. VI. See, see the chariot, and those rushing wheels, That whirled the prophet up at Chebar flood; My spirit some transporting Cherub feels, To bear me where the towers of Salem stood, 40 Once glorious towers, now sunk in guiltless blood. There doth my soul in holy vision sit, In pensive trance, and anguish, and ecstatic fit. |