The hooked Chariot flood,

Unftain'd with hostile blood,

The trumpet spake not to the armed throng, And kings fat still with awful eye,

As if they furely knew their sovran Lord was by. 60 V.

But peaceful was the night,

Wherein the Prince of light

His reign of peace upon the earth began: The winds with wonder whift

Smoothly the waters kist,

Whisp'ring new joys to the mild ocean, Who now hath quite forgot to rave,

65

While birds of calm fit brooding on the charmed wave.

VI.

The stars with deep amaze

Stand fix'd in ftedfaft gaze,

Bending one way their precious influence,

And will not take their flight,

For all the morning light,

70

Or Lucifer that often warn'd them thence;

But in their glimmering orbs did glow,

Until their Lord himself bespake, and bid them go.

VII.

And though the fhady gloom

Had given day her room,

The fun himself withheld his wonted speed,

75

And

And hid his head for fhame,

As his inferior flame

80

The new inlighten'd world no more should need; He faw a greater fun appear

Than his bright throne, or burning axletree could bear.

VIII.

The fhepherds on the lawn,

Or e'er the point of dawn,

Sat fimply chatting in a rustic row;

Full little thought they then,

That the mighty Pan

Was kindly come to live with them below; Perhaps their loves, or else their sheep,

Was all that did their filly thoughts so busy keep.

When fuch music sweet

IX.

Their hearts and ears did greet,

85

90

As never was by mortal finger ftrook, Divinely-warbled voice

95

Answering the ftringed noise,

As all their fouls in blissful rapture took:

The air fuch pleasure loath to lofe,

99

With thousandecho's ftill prolongs each heav'nly close.

X.

Nature that heard fuch found,

Beneath the hollow round

Of Cynthia's feat, the aery region thrilling,

Now

Now was almost won

To think her part was done,

And that her reign had here its last fulfilling; She knew such harmony alone

105

Could hold all Heav'n and Earth in happier union. XI.

At last surrounds their fight

A globe of circular light,

That with long beams the shame-fac'd night array'd; The helmed Cherubim,

And sworded Seraphim,

Are seen in glittering ranks with wings display'd, Harping in loud and folemn quire,

115 With unexpreffive notes to Heav'n's new-born Heir.

Such mufic (as 'tis faid)

Before was never made,

XII.

But when of old the fons of morning fung,

While the Creator great

His conftellations fet,

And the well-balanc'd world on hinges hung,

And caft the dark foundations deep,

120

(If ye have pow'r to touch our fenfes fo)

And

And let your filver chime

Move in melodious time,

And let the base of Heav'n's deep organ blow, 130 And with your ninefold harmony

Make up

full confort to th'angelic fymphony.

For if fuch holy song

Inwrap our fancy long,

XIV.

Time will run back, and fetch the age of gold, 135

And speckled Vanity

Will ficken foon and die,

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

And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering day.

XV.

Yea Truth and Justice then

Will down return to men,

Orb'd in a rainbow; and like glories wearing

141

Mercy will fit between,

Thron'd in celeftial fheen,

145

With radiant feet the tiffued clouds down steering, And Heav'n, as at some festival,

Will

open wide the gates of her high palace hall.

XVI.

But wifeft fate fays no,

This must not yet be so,

150

The babe lies yet in smiling infancy,

That

That on the bitter cross

Must redeem our lofs;

So both himself and us to glorify: Yet first to those ychain'd in sleep,

155

The wakeful trump of doom must thunder through

XVII.

(the deep,

With fuch a horrid clang

As on mount Sinai rang,

While the red fire, and fmouldring clouds out brake: The aged earth aghaft,

With terror of that blast,

Shall from the furface to the center fhake;

When at the world's last session,

160

(throne.

The dreadful Judge in middle air fhall 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 so far casts his ufurped sway,

And wroth to see his kingdom fail,

Swindges the scaly horror of his folded tail.

The oracles are dumb

XIX.

No voice or hideous hum

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170

Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving.

Apollo