LXXXIII A WISH Happy were he could finish forth his fate Of worldly folk, there should he sleep secure ; And change of holy thoughts to make him merry : R. Devereux, Earl of Essex LXXXIV SAINT JOHN BAPTIST The last and greatest Herald of Heaven's King Who listen'd to his voice, obey'd his cry? The Golden Treasury Book Second LXXXV ODE 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 unsufferable, Wherewith He wont at Heaven's high council-table 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 Hast thou no verse, no hymn, or solemn strain Now while the heaven, by the sun's team untrod, 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, From out His secret altar touch'd with hallow'd fire. THE HYMN It was the winter wild While the heaven-born Child All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies; 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 woos the gentle air To hide her guilty front with innocent snow; 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 uphung; Unstain'd with hostile blood; The trumpet spake not to the arméd throng ; As if they surely knew their sovran Lord was by. But peaceful was the night Wherein the Prince of Light His reign of peace upon the earth began: Smoothly the waters kist Whispering new joys to the mild oceán- Who now hath quite forgot to rave, While birds of calm sit brooding on the charméd wave. The stars, with deep amaze, Stand fix'd in steadfast gaze, Bending one way their precious influence; And will not take their flight For all the morning light, 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 ere the point of dawn Sate 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- As all their souls in blissful rapture took : 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 That with long beams the shamefaced night array'd; The helméd Cherubim And sworded Seraphim Are seen in glittering ranks with wings display'd, 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 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; And with your ninefold harmony Make up full consort to the angelic symphony. |