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All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies;
Nature, in awe to him,
Had doffed her gaudy trim,
With her great Master so to sympathise:
It was no season then for her
To wanton with the Sun, her lusty paramour.


Only with speeches fair
She woos the gentle air
To hide her guilty front with innocent snow,

And on her naked shame, 40

Pollute with sinful blame,
The saintly veil of maiden white to throw;
Confounded, that her Maker's eyes
Should look so near upon her foul deformities.


But he, her fears to cease, Sent down the meek-eyed Peace: She, crowned with olive green, came softly sliding Down through the turning sphere, His ready harbinger, With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing; 50 And, waving wide her myrtle wand, She strikes a universal peace through sea and land.


No war, or battle's sound, Was heard the world around; The idle spear and shield were high uphung; The hooked chariot stood, Unstained with hostile blood; The trumpet spake not to the armed throng; And kings sat still with awful eye, As if they surely 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 whist, Smoothly the waters kissed, Whispering new joys to the mild Ocean, Who now hath quite forgot to rave, While birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed wave.


The stars, with deep amaze,
Stand fixed in steadfast gaze, 70

Bending one way their precious influence,
And will not take their flight,
For all the morning light,
Or Lucifer that often warned them thence;
But in their glimmering orbs did glow,
Until their Lord himself bespake, and bid them go.

VII. And, though the shady gloom Had given day her room, The Sun himself withheld his wonted speed, And hid his head for shame, 80

As his inferior flame The new-enlightened world no more should need: He saw a greater Sun appear

Than his bright throne or burning axletree could bear.


The shepherds on the lawn,
Or ere the point of dawn,
Sat simply chatting in a rustic row;

Full little thought they than

That the mighty Pan
Was kindly come to live with them below: go

Perhaps their loves, 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 finger strook, Divinely-warbled voice Answering the stringed noise, As all their souls in blissful rapture took: The air, such pleasure loth to lose, 99

With thousand echoes still prolongs each heavenly close.


Nature, that heard such sound Beneath the hollow round Of Cynthia's seat the Airy region thrilling, Now was almost won To think her part was done, And that her reign had here its last fulfilling: She knew such harmony alone Could hold all Heaven and Earth in happier union.


At last surrounds their sight
A globe of circular light, 110

That with longbeams the shamefaced Night arrayed;
The helmed cherubim
And sworded seraphim
Are seen in glittering ranks with wings displayed,
Harping in loud and solemn quire,
With unexpressive notes, to Heaven's new-born Heir.


Such music (as 'tis said)
Before was never made,
But when of old the Sons of Morning sung,

While the Creator great 120

His constellations set, And the well-balanced World on hinges hung, And cast the dark foundations deep, And bid the weltering waves their oozy channel keep.


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 bass of heaven's deep organ blow ; 130 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, 139

And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering day.


Yea, Truth and Justice then
Will down return to men,
Orbed in a rainbow; and, like glories wearing,
Mercy will sit between,

Throned in celestial sheen, With radiant feet the tissued clouds down steering; 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; 150

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 ychained in sleep, The wakeful trump of doom must thunder through the deep,


With such a horrid clang As on Mount Sinai rang, While the red fire and smouldering clouds outbrake: The aged Earth, aghast, 160

With terror of that blast, Shall from the surface to the centre shake, When, at the world's last session, The dreadful Judge in middle air shall spread his throne.


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, 170

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

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