But fie, my wand'ring Muse, how thou dost stray!
Expectance calls thee now another way;
Thou know'st it must be now thy only bent
To keep in compass of thy predicament:
Then quick about thy purposed business come,
That to the next I may resign my room.

55

Then Ens is represented as father of the Predicaments, his ten sons, whereof the eldest stood for Substance with his canons, which Ens, thus speaking, explains.

Good luck befriend thee, son; for at thy birth The faery ladies danced upon the hearth;

60

Try drowsy nurse hath sworn she did them spy
Come tripping to the room where thou didst lie,
And sweetly singing round about thy bed

Strow all their blessings on thy sleeping head.

She heard them give thee this, that thou should'st still From eyes of mortals walk invisible:

66

Yet there is something that doth force my fear,

For once it was my dismal hap to hear

A Sybil old, bow-bent with crooked age,
That far events full wisely could presage,
And in Time's long and dark prospective glass
Foresaw what future days should bring to pass;
Your son, said she, (nor can you it prevent)
Shall subject be to many an accident.
O'er all his brethren he shall reign as king,
Yet every one shall make him underling,
And those that cannot live from him asunder
Ungratefully shall strive to keep him under;
In worth and excellence he shall out-go them;
Yet being above them, he shall be below them;
From others he shall stand in need of nothing,
Yet on his brothers shall depend for clothing.
To find a foe it shall not be his hap,
And Peace shall lull him in her flowery lap;
Yet shall he live in strife, and at his door
Devouring War shall never cease to roar:
Yea, it shall be his natural property
To harbour those that are at enmity.

70

75

80

85

What power, what force, what mighty spell, if not Your learned hands, can loose this Gordian knot? 90

The next Quantity and Quality spake in prose, then Relation was called by his name

Rivers arise; whether thou be the son

Of utmost Tweed, or Oose, or gulphy Dun,

Or Trent, who like some earth-born giant spreads

His thirsty arms along th' indented meads;

Or sullen Mole that runneth underneath,

95

Or Severn swift, guilty of maidens' death;
Or rocky Avon, or of sedgy Lee,

Or coaly Tine, or ancient hallow'd Dee,

Or Humber loud that keeps the Scythian's name, Or Medway smooth, or royal tower'd Thame.

[The rest was prose.]

III.

ON THE MORNING OF CHRIST'S NATIVITY.

(Composed 1629.)

THIS is the month, and this the happy morn,
Wherein the Son of Heav'n's eternal King,
Of wedded Maid, and Virgin Mother born,
Our great redemption from above did bring;
For so the holy Sages once did sing,

That he our deadly forfeit should release,
And with his Father work us a perpetual peace.

That glorious form, that light unsufferable,

And that far-beaming blaze of majesty,

100

Wherewith he wont at Heav'n's high council-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 darksome house of mortal clay.

Say, heav'nly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein
Afford a present to the Infant God?

15

Hast thou no verse, no hymn, or solemn strain,
To welcome him to this his new abode,

Now while the Heav'n by the sun's team untrod,
Hath took no print of the approaching light,
And all the spangled host keep watch in squadrons

20

bright?

See how from far upon the eastern road
The star-led wizards haste with odours sweet:

O run, prevent them with thy humble ode,

And lay it lowly at his blessed feet;

Have thou the honour first thy Lord to greet,
And join thy voice unto the angel quire,

25

From out his secret altar touch'd with hallow'd fire.

THE HYMN.

IT was the winter wild,

While the Heav'n-born child

All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies; Nature in awe to him

Had doff'd her gaudy trim,

30

With her great Master so to sympathize:

It was no season then for her

35

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 ner naked shame,

40

She, crown'd 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 up hung, 55 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.

28. Isaiah vi. 6, 7.

52. She strikes; so the Latin, fœdus ferire.

But peaceful was the night,

61

Wherein the Prince of light

His reign of peace upon the earth began: The winds with wonder whist

Smoothly the waters kiss'd,

Whisp'ring new joys to the mild ocean, Who now hath quite forgot to rave,

65

While birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed wave.

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,

80

As his inferior flame

The new enlighten'd world no more should need; He saw a greater sun appear

[bear.

Than his bright throne, or burning axle-tree could

Perhaps their loves, or else their sheep,

Was all that did their silly thoughts so busy keep.

Nature that heard such sound,

Beneath the hollow round

Of Cynthia's seat, the aery 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

101

105

Could hold all Heav'n and Earth in happier union.

At last surrounds their sight

A globe of circular light,

110

That with long beams the shame-faced night arThe helmed cherubim

And sworded seraphim,

[ray'd;

Are seen in glittering ranks with wings display'd, Harping in loud and solemn quire,

115

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,

120

And bid the welt'ring 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,

125

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

Inwrap our fancy long,

Time will run back, and fetch the age of Gold, 135 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