60 THE WORLD'S WAY Tired with all these, for restful death I cry- 5 10 And captive Good attending captain Ill:-Tired with all these, from these would I be gone, Save that, to die, I leave my Love alone. 61 W. SHAKESPEARE. SAINT JOHN BAPTIST The last and greatest Herald of Heaven's King His food was locusts, and what there doth spring, 133 са 4 11 THE GOLDEN TREASURY BOOK SECOND 62 ODE ON THE MORNING OF CHRIST'S NATIVITY This is the month, and this the happy morn Wherein the Son of Heaven'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. 5 That glorious Form, that Light unsufferable, And that far-beaming blaze of Majesty Wherewith He wont at Heaven's high counciltable To sit the midst of Trinal Unity, He laid aside; and, here with us to be, Forsook the courts of everlasting day, 10 And chose with us a darksome house of mortal clay. 16 Say, heavenly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein Now while the heaven, by the sun's team un- Hath took no print of the approaching light, 20 And all the spangled host keep watch in squadrons 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 25 Have thou the honour first thy Lord to greet, And join thy voice unto the angel quire 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: 30 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; The saintly veil of maiden white to throw ; Should look so near upon her foul deformities. But He, her fears to cease, Sent down the meek-eyed Peace; 40 45 She, crown'd with olive green, came softly sliding With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing; 51 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; 55 The hooked chariot stood Unstain'd with hostile blood; The trumpet spake not to the arméd throng; As if they surely knew their sovran Lord was by. 60 But peaceful was the night His reign of peace upon the earth began: Whispering new joys to the mild oceân- 65 While birds of calm sit brooding on the charméd wave. The stars, with deep amaze, Bending one way their precious influence; For all the morning light, Or Lucifer that often warn'd them thence; 70 75 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 80 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 85 90 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- 95 Answering the stringéd noise, 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, To think her part was done, And that her reign had here its last fulfilling ; She knew such harmony alone 100 105 Could hold all heaven and earth in happier union. At last surrounds their sight A globe of circular light, 110 That with long beams the shamefaced night array'd; The helméd Cherubim And sworded Seraphim 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 weltering waves their oozy channel keep. Ring out, ye crystal spheres ! If ye have power to touch our senses so ; Move in melodious time; 125 And let the bass of heaven's deep organ blow; |