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With saintly shout and solemn jubilee ;
Where the bright Seraphim in burning row
Their loud uplifted angel-trumpets blow ;
And the Cherubic host in thousand quires
Touch their immortal harps of golden wires,
With those just Spirits that wear victorious palms,

Hymns devout and holy psalms

Singing everlastingly: That we on Earth, with undiscording voice May rightly answer that melodious noise ; As once we did, till disproportion'd sin Jarr'd against nature's chime, and with harsh din Broke the fair music that all creatures made To their great Lord, whose love their motion sway'd In perfect diapason, whilst they stood In first obedience, and their state of good. O may we soon again renew that Song, And keep in tune with Heaven, till God ere long

To His celestial consort us unite To live with Him, and sing in endless morn of light !

J. Milton

CXLVIII

NOX NOCTI INDICAT SCIENTIAM

When I survey the bright

Celestial sphere :
So rich with jewels hung, that night
Doth like an Ethiop bride appear ;
My soul her wings doth spread,

And heaven-ward flies,
The Almighty's mysteries to read
In the large volumes of the skies.
For the bright firmament

Shoots forth no flame
So silent, but is eloquent
In speaking the Creator's name.

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No unregarded star

Contracts its light
Into so small a character,
Removed far from our human sight,
But if we steadfast look,

We shall discern
In it as in some holy book,
How man may heavenly knowledge learn.
It tells the Conqueror,

That far-stretch'd power
Which his proud dangers traffic for,
Is but the triumph of an hour.
That from the farthest North

Some nation may
Yet undiscover'd issue forth,
And o'er his new-got conquest sway.
Some nation yet shut in

With hills of ice,
May be let out to scourge his sin,
Till they shall equal him in vice.
And then they likewise shall

Their ruin have ;
For as yourselves your Empires fall,
And every Kingdom hath a grave.
Thus those celestial fires,

Though seeming mute,
The fallacy of our desires
And all the pride of life, confute.
For they have watch'd since first

The world had birth :
And found sin in itself accursed,
And nothing permanent on earth.

W. Habington

CXLIX

HYMN TO DARKNESS

Hail thou most sacred venerable thing !

What Muse is worthy thee to sing ?
Thee, from whose pregnant universal womb
All things, ev’n Light, thy rival, first did come.
What dares he not attempt that sings of thee,

Thou first and greatest mystery?

Who can the secrets of thy essence tell ? Thou, like the light of God, art inaccessible.

Before great Love this monument did raise

This ample theatre of praise ;
kefore the folding circles of the sky
Were tuned by Him, Who is all harmony ;
Before the morning Stars their hymn began,

Before the council held for man,

Before the birth of either time or place, Thou reign'st unquestion’d monarch in the empty

space.

Thy native lot thou didst to Light resign,

But still half of the globe is thine.
Here with a quiet, but yet awful hand,
Like the best emperors thou dost command.
To thee the stars above their brightness owe,

And mortals their repose below :

To thy protection fear and sorrow flee, And those that weary are of light, find rest in thee.

J. Norris of Bemerton

CL

A VISION

I saw Eternity the other night,
Like a great ring of pure and endless light,

All calm, as it was bright :-
And round beneath it, Time, in hours, days, years,

Driven by the spheres,
Like a vast shadow moved; in which the World
And all her train were hurl'd.

H. Vaughan

CLI

ALEXANDER’S FEAST, OR, THE POWER

OF MUSIC

'Twas at the royal feast for Persia won

By Philip's warlike son-
Aloft in awful state
The godlike hero sate
On his imperial throne ;
His valiant peers were placed around,
Their brows with roses and with myrtles bound,
(So should desert in arms be crown'd);
The lovely Thais by his side
Sate like a blooming Eastern bride
In flower of youth and beauty's pride :-
Happy, happy, happy pair !
None but the brave
None but the brave

None but the brave deserves the fair !
Timotheus placed on high
Amid the tuneful quire
With flying fingers touch'd the lyre :
The trembling notes ascend the sky
And heavenly joys inspire.
The song began from Jove
Who left his blissful seats above-

K

Such is the power of mighty love !
A dragon's fiery form belied the god ;
Sublime on radiant spires he rode
When he to fair Olyrnpia prest,
And while he sought her snowy breast,
Then round her slender waist he curld,
And stamp'd an image of himself, a sovereign of the

world.
-The listening crowd admire the lofty sound ;
A present deity! they shout around :
A present deity ! the vaulted roofs rebound :
With ravish'd ears
The monarch hears,
Assumes the god ;
Affects to nod
And seems to shake the spheres.
The praise of Bacchus then the sweet musician

sung, Of Bacchus ever fair and ever young : The jolly god in triumph comes; Sound the trumpets, beat the drums ! Flush'd with a purple grace He shows his honest face : Now give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes ! Bacchus, ever fair and young, Drinking joys did first ordain ; Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, Drinking is the soldier's pleasure : Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure, Sweet is pleasure after pain.

Soothed with the sound, the king grew vain ;
Fought all his battles o'er again,
And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he slew

the slain !
The master saw the madness rise,
His glowing cheeks, his ardent eyes ;
And while he Heaven and Earth defied
Changed his hand and check'd his pride.
He chose a mournful Muse
Soft pity to infuse :

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