Strow all their blessings on thy sleeping head. Yet there is something that doth force my fear, And Peace shall lull him in her flowery lap; To harbour those that are at enmity. What power, what force, what mighty spell, if not The next Quantity and Quality spake in Prose; then Rivers, arise; whether thou be the son Or Humber loud, that keeps the Scythian's name, Or Meday smooth, or royal tower'd Thame. [The rest was prose] ON THE MORNING OF CHRIST'S NATIVITY. Composed in 1629. This is the month, and this the happy morn, That he our deadly forfeit should release, II. That glorious form, that light unsufferable, Wherewith he wont at Heaven's high council-table He laid aside; and, here with us to be, And chose with us a darksome house of mortal clay. III. 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, IV. See how from far upon the eastern road Have thou the honour first thy Lord to greet, And join thy voice unto the Angel choir, From out his secret altar touch'd with hallow'd fire. THE HYMN. It was the winter wild, I. 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 woes the gentle air, II. 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 III. Sent down the meek-ey'd Peace; She, crown'd with olive green, came softly-sliding, O* Down through the turning sphere His ready harbinger, With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing, And waving wide her myrtle wand, She strikes an universal peace through sea and land. No war, or battle's sound IV. 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 arm'd throng; And kings sat still with awful eye, As if they surely knew their sov'reign Lord was by. V. 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 kiss'd, Whisp'ring new joys to the mild 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 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 glimering orbs did glow, Until their Lord himself bespake, and bid them go. VII. And though the shady gloom Had given day her room, The sun himself withheld his wonted speed, And hide 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. VIII. The shepherds on the lawn. Or ere the point of dawn, Sat simply chatting in a rustic row; Full little thought they then, 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 IX. 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 : The air, such pleasures loth to lose, With thousand echoes still prolongs each heavenly close. X. 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, |