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IX.
When such music sweet
Their hearts and ears did greet,
As never was by mortal finger strook,

95 Divinely-warbled voice Answering the stringed noise,

As all their souls in blissful rapture took : The air, such pleasure loth to lose, With thousand echoes still prolongs each heav'nly close:

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

XI.
At last surrounds their sight
A globe of circular light,

That with long beams the shame-fac'd night array'd; The helmed Cherubim, And sworded Seraphim,

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

ITS With unexpressive notes to Heaven's new-born Heir.

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XII.
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-balanc'd world on hinges hung,
And cast the dark foundations deep,
And bid the weltering waves their oozy

channel kcep.

XIII. Ring out, ye crystal Spheres, Once bless our human ears,

(If ye have power to touch our senses fo) And let your silver chime Move in melodious time,

And let the base of Heaven's deep organ blow, 130
And with your ninefold harmony
Make up full confort to th' angelic symphony.

XIV.
For if such holy song
Inwrap our fancy long,

Time will run back, and fetch the age of gold, 135
And speckled Vanity
Will ficken soon and die,

And leprous Sin will melt from earthly mold, And Hell itself will pass away, And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering day.

XV. Yea

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XV. Yea Truth and Justice then Will down return to men,

Orb’d in a rainbow; and like glories wearing Mercy will sit between, 'Thron'd in celestial sheen,

With radiant feet the tissued clouds down steering,
And Heav'n, as at some festival,
Will open wide the gates of her high palace hall.

XVI.
But wisest Fate says no,
This must not yet be so,

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The babe lies yet in smiling infancy,
That on the bitter cross
Must redeem our loss ;

So both himself and us to glorify:
Yet first to those ychain'd in sleep,
The wakeful trump of doom must thunder through the
deep,

XVII.
With such a horrid clang
As on mount Sinai

rang, While the red fire and smouldering clouds outbrake: The aged earth aghaft,

160 With terror of that blast,

Shall from the surface to the center shake; When at the world's last session, The dreadful Judge in middle air shall spread his throne.

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XVIII. And then at last our bliss

165 Full and perfect is,

But now begins ; for from this happy day
Th' old Dragon under ground,
In straiter limits bound,
Not half so far casts his usurped sway,

170 And wroth to see his kingdom fail, Swindges the scaly horror of his folded tail.

XIX.
The oracles are dumb,
No voice or hideous hum

Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving.
Apollo from his shrine
Can no more divine,

With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving. No nightly trance, or breathed spell, Inspires the pale-ey'd priest from the prophetic cell.

XX.
The lonely mountains o’er,
And the resounding shore,

A voice of weeping heard and loud lament;
From haunted spring, and dale
Edg'd with poplar pale,

The parting Genius is with fighing sent;
With flower-inwoven tresses torn
The Nymphs in twilight thade of tangled thickets

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mourn.

XXI. In

XXI.
In consecrated earth,
And on the holy hearth,

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The Lars and Lemures moan with midnight plaint;
In urns, and altars round,
A drear and dying sound

Affrights the Flamens at their service quaint; And the chill marble seems to sweat,

195 While each peculiar Power foregoes his wonted seat.

XII.
Peor and Baälim
Forsake their temples dim,

With that twice batter'd God of Palestine;
And mooned Ashtaroth,
Heav'n's queen and mother both,

Now fits not girt with tapers' holy shine ;
The Libyc Hammon fhrinks his horn,
In vain the Tyrian maids their wounded Thammuz

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mourn.

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XXIII.
And sullen Moloch fled,
Hath left in shadows dread

His burning idol all of blackest hue;
In vain with cymbals' ring
They call the grisly king,

In dismal dance about the furnace blue;
The brutish Gods of Nile as fast,
Isis and Orus, and the dog Anubis, haste.

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