« السابقةمتابعة »
Such music (as 'tis said)
But when of old the sons of morning sung,
120 His constellation 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.
Ring out, ye crystal Spheres,
(If ye have pow'r to touch our senses so ;)
And let the base of Heav'n's deep organ blow; 130 And, with your ninefold harmony, Make up full concert to th' angelic symphony.
For, if such holy song
Time will run back, and fetch the age of gold ; 135
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
Orb'd in a rainbow; and, like glories wearing,
So both himself and us to glorify: Yet first, to those ychain'd in sleep,
155 The wakeful trump of doom must thunder through the deep ;
XVII. With such a horrid clang As on mount Sinai rang, While the red fire and smouldering clouds out
brake : 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
XVIII. And then at last our bliss
165 Full and perfect is,
But now begins; for, from this happy day,
170 And, wroth to see his kingdom fail, Swindges the scaly horror of his folded tail.
Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. Apollo from bis shrine
176 Can no more divine,
With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving.
No nightly trance, or breathed spell,
The lonely mountains o'er,
181 And the resounding shore,
A voice of weeping heard and loud lament;
190 The Lars, and Lemures, moan with midnight
plaint; In urns, and altars round, A drear and dying sound
Affrights the Flamens at their service quaint; And the chill marble seems to sweat,
195 While each peculiar Pow'r forgoes his wonted seat.
With that twice-batter'd God of Palestine;
200 Heav'n's queen and mother both,
Now sits not girt with tapers' holy shine; The Libye Hammon shrinks his horn, In vain the Tyrian maids their wounded Thammuz
199." That twice-battered God of Palestine;"....Dagon, first battered by Samson, then by the ark of God.
His burning idol all of blackest hue;
In dismal dance about the furnace blue : 21€
XXIV. Nor is Osiris seen In Memphian grove or green, Trampling the unshow'r'd grass with lowings loud:
215 Nor can he be at rest Within his sacred chest;
Nought but profoundest Hell can be his shroud;
The rays of Bethlehem blind his dusky eyn;
XXVI. So, when the sun in bed, Curtain'd with cloudy red,
230 Pillows his chin upon an orient wave, The flocking shadows pale Troop to th' infernal jail,
Each fetter'd ghost slips to his several grave; And the yellow-skirted fayes,
233 Fly after the night-steeds, leaving their moon-loyd
XXVII. the Virgin blest Hath laid her Babe to rest;
Time is our tedious song should here have ending; Heav'n's youngest-teemed star
240 Hath fix'd her polish'd car,
Her sleeping Lord with handmaid lamp attending:
Most perfect Hero, try'd in heaviest plight
Yet more; the stroke of death he must abide, 20