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And hid his head for shame, 80

As his inferior flame

The new enlighten'd world no more should need; He saw a greater sun appear

Than his bright throne, or burning axletree could

VIII. (bear.

The shepherds on the lawn, 85

Or e'er the point of dawn,

Sat simply chatting in a rustic row;
Full little thought they then,
That the mighty Pan

Was kindly come to live with them below; 90
Perhaps their lovers, or else their sheep,
Was all that did their silly thoughts so busy keep.


When such music sweet

Their hearts and ears did greet,

As never was by mortal singer strook, 95

Divinely-warbled voice
Answering the stringed noise,

As all their souls in blissful rapture took:
The air such pleasure loath to lose, gg

With thousand echo's still prolongs each heav'nly

X. close.

Nature that heard such sound,
Beneath the hollow round

Of Cynthia's feat, the aery region thrilling,


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Now was almost won

To think her part was done, 105

And that her reign had here its last fulfilling; She knew such harmony alone Could hold all Heav'n and Earth in happier union.

XI. At last surrounds their sight

A globe of circular light, no

That with longbeams the shame-facd night array'd;
The helmed Cherubim,
And sworded Seraphim,

Are seen in glittering ranks with wings display'd, Harping in loud and solemn quire, 115

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

XII. Such music (as 'tis said) Before was never made,

But when of old the sons of morning fung, While the Creator great 120

His constellations set,

And the well-balanc'd world on hinges hung, And cast the dark foundations deep, And bid the weltring waves their oozy channel keep.

XIII. Ring out ye crystal Spheres, 125

Once bless our human ears,

(If ye have pow'r to touch our fenses so)

Z And

And let your silver 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 consort to th' angelic symphony.

For if such holy song
Inwrap our fancy long,

Time will run back, and fetch the age of gold, 135
And speckled Vanity
Will sicken soon 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.

Yea Truth and Justice then 141

Will down return to men,

Orb'd in a rainbow; and like glories wearing
Mercy will sit between,
Thron'd in celestial sheen, 145

With radiant feet the tissued clouds down steering,
And Heav'n, 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, 150

The babe lies yet 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 fleep, 155

The wakeful trump of doom must thunder through

XVII. (the deep,

With such a horrid clang
As on mount Sinai rang,

While the red fire, and smouldringclouds out brake:
The aged earth aghast, 160

With terror of that blast,

Shall from the surface to the center 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
Th' old Dragon under ground
In straiter limits bound,

Not half so far casts his usurped sway, 170

And wroth to see his kingdom fail,
Swindges the scaly horror of his folded tail.

The oracles are dumb,
No voice or hideous hum
Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving.
Z 2 Apollo

Apollo from his shrine 176

Can no more divine,

With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving.
No nightly trance, or breathed spell
Inspires the pale-ey'd priest from the prophetic cell.

The lonely mountains o'er, 181

And the resounding shore,

A voice of weeping heard and loud lament;
From haunted spring, and dale
Edg'd with poplar pale, 185

The parting Genius is with sighing sent;
With flow'r-inwoven tresses torn (mourn.

The Nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets

In consecrated earth,

And on the holy hearth, 190

The Lars, and Lemures moan with midnight In urns, and altars round, (plaint;

A drear and dying found

Affrights the Flamens at their service quaint; And the chill marble seems to sweat, 195

While each peculiar Pow'r forgoes his wonted feat.

Peor and Baalim .

Forsake their temples dim,

With that twice batter'd God of Palestine;


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