The conscience, friend, to have lost them overplied I liberty's defence, my noble task, Of which all Europe rings from side to side. This thought might lead me through the world's vain mask Content though blind, had I no better guide. XVIII.-ON HIS DECEASED WIFE. METHOUGHT I saw my late espoused saint Brought to me, like Alcestis, from the grave, Whom Jove's great son to her glad husband gave, Rescued from death by force, though pale and faint. Mine, as whom wash'd from spot of child-bed taint Purification in the old Law did save, And such, as yet once more I trust to have Full sight of her in Heaven without restraint; Came, vested all in white, pure as her mind: PP O DE S. ON THE MORNING OF CHRIST'S NATIVITY. THIS is the month, and this the happy morn, That he our deadly forfeit should release, And with his Father work us a perpetual peace That glorious form, that light insufferable, To sit the midst of Trinal Unity, He laid aside; and here with us to be, Forsook the courts of everlasting day, And chose with us a darksome house of mortal clay. Say, heavenly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein Afford a present to the Infant God? Hast thou no verse, no hymn, or solemn strain, To welcome him to this his new abode, Now, while the heaven, by the sun's team un trod, Hath took no print of the approaching light, And all the spangled host keep watch in squadrons bright? See, how from far, upon the eastern road, Have thou the honour first thy Lord to greet, THE HYMN. It was the winter wild, While the heaven-born child All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies; Nature, in awe to him, Had doff'd her gaudy trim, With her great Master so to sympathize: It was no season then for her To wanton with the sun, her lusty paramour. Only with speeches fair She wooes the gentle air To hide her guilty front with innocent snow And on her naked shame, 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, crown'd with olive green, came softly sliding Down through the turning sphere, His ready harbinger, With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing; 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 up hung The hooked chariot stood Unstain'd with hostile blood; The trumpet spake not to the armed throng; And kings sat still with awful eye, As if they surely knew their sovereign Lord was by. 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 kist, Whispering new joys to the wild ocean, Who now hath quite forgot to rave, While birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed wave. The stars, with deep amaze, Bending one way their precious influence: Or Lucifer, that often warn'd them thence; But in their glimmering orbs did glow, Until their Lord himself bespake, and bid them go. And, though the shady gloom Had given day her room, The sun himself withheld his wonted speed; And hid his head for shame, 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 bear. The shepherds on the lawn, Or e'er 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: 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: |