LESSON XCIV.-ON THE MORNING OF CHRIST'S NATIVITY. This is the month, and this the happy morn, That He our deadly forfeit should release, That glorious Form, that Light unsufferable, He laid aside; and, here with us to be, 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, To welcome Him to this His new abode, Now while the heaven, by the sun's team untrod, Hath took no print of the approaching light, 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, 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, From out His secret altar touch'd with hallow'd fire. It was the winter wild, While the heaven-born child All meanly wrapped in the rude manger lies; Had doffed 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; 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 up hung; 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. But peaceful was the night His reign of peace upon the earth began: Smoothly the waters kist, Whispering new joys to the mild ocean 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 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 Their hearts and ears did greet As never was by mortal finger strook- Answering the stringéd noise, As all their souls in blissful rapture took: The air, such pleasure loth to lose, With thousand echoes still prolongs each heavenly close. Nature that heard such sound Beneath the hollow round Of Cynthia's seat the aëry 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: 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; Move in melodious time; And let the base of heaven's deep organ blow; Make up full concert to the angelic symphony. For if such holy song Enwrap our fancy long, Time will run back, and fetch the age of gold ; Will sicken soon and die, And leprous sin will melt from earthly mould; And hell itself will pass away, And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering day. Yea, Truth and Justice, then, Will down return to men, Orb'd in a rainbow; and, like glories wearing, Mercy will sit between, Throned in celestial sheen, With radiant feet the tissued clouds down steering; And Heaven, as at some festival, Will open wide the gates of her high palace-hall. But wisest Fate says, No; This must not yet be so; The babe yet lies in smiling infancy That on the bitter cross Must redeem our loss; So both Himself and us to glorify: |