The Poetry Collections
POEMS, 1645
ON THE MORNING OF CHRISTS NATIVITY
Composâd 1629
I
This is the Month, and this the happy morn
Wherein the Son of Heavâns eternal King,
Of wedded Maid, and Virgin Mother born,
Our great redemption from above did bring;
For so the holy sages once did sing, 5
That he our deadly forfeit should release,
And with his Father work us a perpetual peace.
II
That glorious Form, that Light unsufferable,
And that far-beaming blaze of Majesty,
Wherwith he wont at Heavâns high Councel-Table, 10
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 darksom House of mortal Clay.
III
Say Heavânly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein 15
Afford a present to the Infant God?
Hast thou no vers, no hymn, or solemn strein,
To welcom him to this his new abode,
Now while the Heavân by the Suns team untrod,
Hath took no print of the approching light, 20
And all the spangled host keep watch in squadrons bright?
IV
See how from far upon the Eastern rode
The Star-led Wisards haste with odours sweet:
O run, prevent them with thy humble ode,
And lay it lowly at his blessed feet; 25
Have thou the honour first, thy Lord to greet,
And joyn thy voice unto the Angel Quire,
From out his secret Altar toucht with hallowâd fire.
THE HYMN
I
It was the Winter wilde,
While the Heavân-born-childe, 30
All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies;
Nature in aw to him
Had doffât her gawdy trim,
With her great Master so to sympathize:
It was no season then for her 35
To wanton with the Sun her lusty Paramour.
II
Onely with speeches fair
She wooâs the gentle Air
To hide her guilty front with innocent Snow,
And on her naked shame, 40
Pollute with sinfull blame,
The Saintly Vail of Maiden white to throw,
Confounded, that her Makers eyes
Should look so neer upon her foul deformities.
III
But he her fears to cease, 45
Sent down the meek-eyd Peace,
She crownâd with Olive green, came softly sliding
Down through the turning sphear,
His ready Harbinger,
With Turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing, 50
And waving wide her mirtle wand,
She strikes a universall Peace through Sea and Land.
IV
No War, or Battails sound
Was heard the World around:
The idle spear and shield were high up hung; 55
The hooked Chariot stood
Unstainâd with hostile blood,
The Trumpet spake not to the armed throng,
And Kings sate still with awfull eye,
As if they surely knew their sovran Lord was by. 60
V
But peacefull was the night
Wherin the Prince of light
His raign of peace upon the earth began:
The Windes, with wonder whist,
Smoothly the waters kist, 65
Whispering new joyes to the milde Ocean,
Who now hath quite forgot to rave,
While Birds of Calm sit brooding on the charmed wave.
VI
The Stars with deep amaze
Stand fixt in stedfast gaze, 70
Bending one way their pretious influence,
And will not take their flight,
For all the morning light,
Or Lucifer that often warnâd them thence;
But in their glimmering Orbs did glow, 75
Untill their Lord himself bespake, and bid them go.
VII
And though the shady gloom
Had given day her room,
The Sun himself with-held his wonted speed,
And hid his head for shame, 80
As his inferiour flame,
The new-enlightnâd world no more should need;
He saw a greater Sun appear
Then his bright Throne, or burning Axletree could bear.
VIII
The Shepherds on the Lawn, 85
Or ere the point of dawn,
Sate simply chatting in a rustick row;
Full little thought they than,
That the mighty Pan
Was kindly com to live with them below; 90
Perhaps their loves, or els their sheep,
Was all that did their silly thoughts so busie keep.
IX
When such musick sweet
Their hearts and ears did greet,
As never was by mortall finger strook, 95
Divinely-warbled voice
Answering the stringed noise,
As all their souls in blisfull rapture took:
The Air such pleasure loth to lose,
With thousand echoâs still prolongs each heavânly close. 100
X
Nature that heard such sound
Beneath the hollow round
Of Cynthiaâs seat, the Airy region thrilling,
Now was almost won
To think her part was don, 105
And that her raign had here its last fulfilling;
She knew such harmony alone
Could hold all Heavân and Earth in happier union.
XI
At last surrounds their sight
A Globe of circular light, 110
That with long beams the shame-facât night arrayâd,
The helmed Cherubim
And sworded Seraphim
Are seen in glittering ranks with wings displaid,
Harping in loud and solemn quire, 115
With unexpressive notes to Heavâns new-born Heir.
XII
Such Musick (as âtis 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-balancât world on hinges hung,
And cast the dark foundations deep,
And bid the weltring waves their oozy channel keep.
XIII
Ring out ye Crystall sphears, 125
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 Base of Heavâns deep Organ blow, 130
And with your ninefold harmony
Make up full consort to thâ Angelike symphony.
XIV
For if such holy Song
Enwrap our fancy long,
Time will run back, and fetch the age of gold, 135
And specklâd vanity
Will sicken soon and die,
And leprous sin will melt from earthly mould,
And Hell itself will pass away,
And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering day. 140
XV
Yea Truth, and Justice then
Will down return to men,
Thâ enameld Arras of the Rainbow wearing,
And Mercy set between,
Thronâd in Celestiall sheen, 145
With radiant feet the tissued clouds down stearing,
And Heavân as at som festivall,
Will open wide the Gates of her high Palace Hall.
XVI
But wisest Fate sayes 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 glorifie:
Yet first to those ychainâd in sleep, 155
The wakefull trump of doom must thunder through the deep,
XVII
With such a horrid clang
As on mount Sinai rang
While the red fire, and smouldring clouds out brake:
The aged Earth agast 160
With terrour of that blast,
Shall from the surface to the center shake,
When at the worlds last session,
The dreadfull Judge in middle Air shall spread his throne.
XVIII
And then at last our bliss 165
Full and perfect is,
But now begins; for from this happy day
Thâ old Dragon under ground,
In straiter limits bound,
Not half so far casts his usurped sway, 170
And wrath to see his Kingdom fail,
Swindges the scaly Horrour of his foulded tail.
XIX
The Oracles are dumm,
No voice or hideous humm
Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. 175
Apollo from his shrine
Can no more divine,
With hollow shreik the steep of Delphos leaving.
No nightly trance, or breathed spell,
Inspireâs the pale-eyâd Priest from the prophetic cell. 180
XX
The lonely mountains oâre,
And the resounding shore,
A voice of weeping heard, and loud lament;
From haunted spring and dale
Edgâd with poplar pale, 185
The parting Genius is with sighing sent,
With flowre-inwovân tresses torn
The Nimphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets mourn.
XXI
In consecrated Earth,
And on the holy Hearth, 190
The Lars, and Lemures moan with midnight plaint,
In Urns, and Altars round,
A drear, and dying sound
Affrights the Flamins at their service quaint;
And the chill Marble seems to sweat, 195
While each peculiar power forgoes his wonted seat.
XXII
Peor, and Baalim,
Forsake their Temples dim,
With that twise-batterâd god of Palestine,
And mooned Ashtaroth, 200
Heavâns Queen and Mother both,
Now sits not girt with Tapers holy shine,
The Libyc Hammon shrinks his horn,
In vain the Tyrian Maids their wounded Thamuz mourn.
XXIII
And sullen Moloch fled, 205
Hath left in shadows dred.
His burning Idol all of blackest hue,
In vain with Cymbals ring,
They call the grisly king,
In dismall dance about the furnace blue; 210
The brutish gods of Nile as fast,
Isis and Orus, and the Dog Anubis hast.
XXIV
Nor is Osiris seen
In Memphian Grove, or Green,
Trampling the unshowrâd Grasse with lowings loud: 215
Nor can he be at rest
Within his sacred chest,
Naught but profoundest Hell can be his shroud:
In vain with Timbrelâd Anthems dark
The sable-stoled Sorcerers bear his worshipt Ark. 220
XXV
He feels from Judaâs land
The dredded Infants hand,
The rayes of Bethlehem blind his dusky eyn;
Nor all the gods beside,
Longer dare abide, 225
Nor Typhon huge ending in snaky twine:
Our Babe, to shew his Godhead true,
Can in his swadling bands controul the damned crew.
XXVI
So when the Sun in bed,
Curtainâd with cloudy red, 230
Pillows his chin upon an Orient wave.
The flocking shadows pale
Troop to thâ infernall jail,
Each fetterâd Ghost slips to his severall grave,
And the yellow-skirted Fayes 235
Fly after the Night-steeds, leaving their Moon-lovâd maze.
XXVII
But see the Virgin blest,
Hath laid her Babe to rest.
Time is our tedious Song should here have ending,
Heavâns youngest-teemed Star 240
Hath fixt her polisht Car,
Her sleeping Lord with Handmaid Lamp attending.
And all about the Courtly Stable,
Bright-harnest Angels sit in order serviceable.
A PARAPHRASE ON PSALM 114
This and the following Psalm were don by the Author at fifteen yeers old.
WHen the blest seed of Terahâs faithfull Son,
After long toil their liberty had won,
And past from Pharian fields to Canaan Land,
Led by the strength of t...