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At last surrounds their sight
A globe of circular light,

[array'd;
That with long beams the shamefaced night
The helmed Cherubim,
The sworded Seraphim,

Are seen in glittering ranks with wings display'd,
Harping in loud and solemn quire, [Heir.
With unexpressive notes, to heaven's new-born
Such music (as ’tis said)
Before was never made,

But when of old the sons of morning sung,
While the Creator great
His constellations set,

And the well balanced world on hinges hung;
And cast the dark foundations deep, [keep.
And bid the weltering waves their oozy channel
Ring out, ye crystal spheres !
Once bless our human ears,

If ye have power to touch our senses so;
And let your silver chime
Move in melodious time;

And let the base of heaven's deep organ blow;
And, with your ninefold harmony,
Make up full consort to the 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 sicken soon and die,

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

[day. And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering

Yea, Truth and Justice then
Will down return to men,

Orb'd in a rainbow; and, like glories wearing,
Mercy will sit between,
Throned in celestial sheen,

[ing;
With radiant feet the tissued clouds down steer-
And Heaven, as at some festival,
Will open wide the gates of her high palace hall.
But wisest Fate says NO,
This must not yet be so,

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

So both himself and us to glorify :
Yet first, to those ychain'd in sleep, . [the deep;
The wakeful trump of doom must thunder through
With such a horrid clang
As on mount Sinai rang,

[brake: While the red fire and smouldering clouds out The aged earth, aghast With terror of that blast,

Shall from the surface to the centre shake;
When, at the world's last session, [throne.
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,
The old Dragon, under ground
In straiter limits bound,

Not half so far casts his usurped sway;
And, wroth to see his kingdom fail,
Swinges the scaly horror of his folded tail.

The oracles are dumb,
No voice or hideous hum

Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving.
Apollo from his shrine
Can no more divine,

With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving,
No nightly trance, or breathed spell, [cell.
Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic
The lonely mountains o’er,
And the resounding shore,

A voice of weeping heard and loud lament;
From haunted spring and dale,
Edged with poplar pale,

The parting Genius is with sighing sent:
With flower-inwoven tresses torn [mourn.
The Nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets
In consecrated earth,
And on the holy hearth,

(plaint; The Lars and Lemures moan with midnight In urns, and altars round, A drear and dying sound

Affrights the Flamens at their service quaint;
And the chill marble seems to sweat, [seat.
While each peculiar Power foregoes his wonted
Peor and Baälim
Forsake their temples dim,

With that twice-batter'd god of Palestine;
And mooned Ashtaroth,
Heaven's queen and mother both,

Now sits not girt with tapers' holy shine ;
The Libyc Hammon shrinks his horn: [mourn.
In vain the Tyrian maids their wounded Thammuz
And sullen Moloch, fled,
Hath left in shadows dread

His burning idol all of blackest hue :
In vain with cymbals' ring
They call the grisly king,

In dismal dance about the furnace blue:
The brutish gods of Nile as fast,
Isis, and Orus, and the dog Anubis, haste.
Nor is Osiris seen
In Memphian grove or green,

[loud :
Trampling the unshower'd grass with lowings
Nor can he be at rest
Within his sacred chest;

Nought but profoundest hell can be his shroud : In vain with timbrel'd anthems dark The sable-stoled sorcerers bear his worship'd ark.

He feels from Juda's land
The dreaded Infant's hand,

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

Not Typhon huge, ending in snaky twine :
Our Babe, to show his Godhead true, [crew.
Can in the swaddling bands control the damned
So, when the sun in bed,
Curtain'd with cloudy red,

Pillows his chin upon an orient wave,
The flocking shadows pale
Troop to the’ infernal jail,

Each fetter'd ghost slips to his several grave; And the yellow-skirted Fayes

[maze. Fly after the night-steeds, leaving their moon-loved

But-see, the Virgin bless'd
Hath laid her babe to rest ;

[ing.
Time is, our tedious song should here have end-
Heaven's youngest teemed star
Hath fix'd her polish'd car,

[ing : Her sleeping Lord with handmaid lamp attendAnd all about the courtly stable Bright-harness'd angels sit in order serviceable.

MILTON

HYMN TO THE DEITY.
FATHER of Heaven and Earth! Coeval Son!
And coexisting Spirit! Trinal One!
Mysterious Deity; invisible,
Indefinite, and omnipresent God,
Inhabiting eternity! Shall dust,
Shall ashes dare presume to sing of Thee?
0, for a David's heart, and tongue of fire
To rival angels in my praise and zeal!
Yet love immense, and gratitude, with awe
Religious mix'd, shall elevate the hymn,
My heart enkindle, and inspire my tongue.

Father Creator! ,who beholds Thy works
But catches inspiration! Thou the Earth
On nothing hung, and balanced in the void
With a magnetic force, and central poise.
Ocean of brightness Thou! Thy grand behest
Flung on thy orb, the Sun, a sparkling drop,
To light the Stars, and feed their silver urns
With unexhausted flame; to bid them shine

rnal in their courses, o'er the blue Which mantles night, and woo us to repose

VOL. I.

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