TO THE SAME. Cyriac, this three-years-day these eyes, though clear, Against Heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot Of which all Europe rings from side to side. This thought might lead me thro' the world's vain mask Content, though blind, had I no better guide. WHEN THE ASSAULT WAS INTENDED TO THE CITY. Captain, or Colonel, or Knight in arms, Whose chance on these defenceless doors may seize, If deed of honour did thee ever please, Guard them, and him within protect from harms. He can requite thee; for he knows the charms That call Fame on such gentle acts as these, And he can spread thy name o'er lands and seas, Whatever clime the sun's bright circle warms. Lift not thy spear against the Muses' bower: The great Emathian conqueror bid spare The house of Pindarus, when temple and tower Went to the ground; and the repeated air Of sad Electra's poet had the power To save th' Athenian walls from ruin bare. Dryden. VENI CREATOR. CREATOR Spirit, by whose aid Plenteous of grace, descend from high, Rich in thy sevenfold energy! Thou strength of his Almighty hand, Whose power does heaven and earth command. Proceeding Spirit, our defence, Who dost the gift of tongues dispense, Refine and purge our earthly parts: But, oh, inflame and fire our hearts! Our frailties help, our vice controul, Submit the senses to the soul; And when rebellious they are grown, Then lay thy hand, and hold them down. Chase from our minds th' infernal foe, And peace, the fruit of love, bestow; And, lest our feet should step astray, Protect and guide us in the way. Make us eternal truths receive, And practice all that we believe : Give us thyself, that we may see The Father, and the Son, by thee. Immortal honour, endless fame, Who for lost man's redemption died : Eternal Paraclete, to thee! Pope. MESSIAH. YE nymphs of Solyma! begin the song: To heavenly themes sublimer strains belong. The mossy fountains and the sylvan shades, The dreams of Pindus and the Aonian maids, Delight no more. O Thou my voice inspire, Who touched Isaiah's hallowed lips with fire! Rapt into future times, the bard begun; A Virgin shall conceive, a Virgin bear a son! From Jesse's root behold a branch arise, Whose sacred flower with fragrance fills the skies : The ethereal Spirit o'er its leaves shall move, And on its top descends the mystic dove. Ye heavens! from high the dewy nectar pour, And in soft silence shed the kindly shower! The sick and weak the healing plant shall aid, From storms a shelter, and from heat a shade. All crimes shall cease, and ancient frauds shall fail; Returning Justice lift aloft her scale : Peace o'er the world her olive wand extend, And white-robed Innocence from heaven descend. Swift fly the years, and rise the expected morn; See nodding forests on the mountains dance : |