xxi

In consecrated Earth,

And on the boly Hearth,

The Lars, and Lemures moan with midnight plaint, In Urns, and Altars round,

A drear, and dying sound

Affrights the Flamins at their service quaint; And the chill Marble seems to sweat,

While each peculiar power forgoes his wonted seat.

Peor, and Baalim,

xxii

Forsake their Temples dim,

With that twise batter'd god of Palestine, And mooned Ashtaroth,

Heav'ns Queen and Mother both,

Now sits not girt with Tapers boly shine, The Libyc Hammon shrinks his born,

In vain the Tyrian Maids their wounded Thamuz

mourn.

xxiii

And sullen Moloch fled,

Hatb left in shadows dred,

His burning Idol all of blackest bue,

In vain with Cymbals ring,
They call the grisly king,

In dismall dance about the furnace blue;
The brutish gods of Nile as fast,
Isis and Orus, and the Dog Anubis bast.

Nor is Osiris seen

xxiv

In Memphian Grove, or Green,

Trampling the unshowr'd Grasse with lowings loud:

Nor can be be at rest

Within his sacred chest,

Naught but profoundest Hell can be his shroud,
In vain with Timbrel'd Anthems dark
The sable-Stoled Sorcerers bear his worshipt Ark.

XXV

He feels from Juda's Land

The dredded Infants band,

The

rayes of Bethlehem blind bis dusky eyn;

Nor all the gods beside,

Longer dare abide,

Not Typhon huge ending in snaky twine: Our Babe to shew his Godhead true,

Can in his swadling bands controul the damned crew.

So when the Sun in bed,
Curtain'd with cloudy red,
Pillows his chin upon
The flocking shadows pale,

Troop to th'infernall jail,

xxvi

an Orient wave,

Each fetter'd Ghost slips to his severall grave, And the yellow-skirted Fayes,

Fly after the Night-steeds, leaving their Moon-lov'd maze.