Even now, the heralds of his monarch tear
The son of Jesse from his fleecy care, 8
And to the hall the ruddy minstrel bring,
Where sits a being, that was once a king.
Still, on his brow the crown of Israel gleams,
And cringing courtiers still adore its beams,
Though the bright circle throws no light divine,
But rays of hell, that melt it while they shine.

As the young harper tries each quivering wire,
It leaps and sparkles with prophetick fire,
And, with the kindling song, the kindling rays
Around his fingers tremulously blaze,

Till the whole hall, like those blest fields above,
Glows with the light of melody and love.

Soon as the foaming demon hears that psalm, Heaven on his memory bursts, and Eden's balm : He sees the dawnings of too bright a sky; Detects the angel in the poet's eye;

With grasp convulsive, rends his matted hair;

Through his strain'd eye-balls shoots a fiend-like glare;

And flies, with shrieks of agony, that hall,

The throne of Israel, and the breast of Saul;

Exil'd to roam, or, in infernal pains,

To seek a refuge from that shepherd's strains.

The night was moonless :-Judah's shepherds kept Their starlight watch: their flocks around them slept.9 To heaven's blue fields their wakeful eyes were turn'd, And to the fires that there eternal burn'd. Those azure regions had been peopled long, With Fancy's children, by the sons of song: And there, the simple shepherd, conning o'er His humble pittance of Chaldean lore, Saw, in the stillness of a starry night, The Swan and Eagle wing their silent flight ;10 And, from their spangled pinions, as they flew, On Israel's vales of verdure shower the dew: Saw there, the brilliant gems, that nightly flare, In the thin mist of Berenicé's hair;

And there, Boötes roll his lucid wain,

On sparkling wheels, along the ethereal plain;
And there, the Pleiades, in tuneful gyre,

Pursue forever the star-studded Lyre;

And there, with bickering lash, heaven's Charioteer

Urge round the Cynosure his bright career.

While thus the shepherds watch'd the host of

night,

O'er heaven's blue concave flash'd a sudden light.
The unrolling glory spread its folds divine,
O'er the green hills and vales of Palestine ;
And lo! descending angels, hovering there,
Stretch'd their loose wings, and in the purple air,
Hung o'er the sleepless guardians of the fold :—
When that high anthem, clear, and strong, and bold
On wavy paths of trembling ether ran :

"Glory to God ;-benevolence to man ;—

Peace to the world:"-and in full concert came,
From silver tubes, and harps of golden frame,
The loud and sweet response, whose choral strains
Lingered and languished on Judea's plains.

Yon living lamps, charm'd from their chambers blue,
By airs so heavenly, from the skies withdrew :
All?-all, but one, that hung and burn'd alone,
And with mild lustre over Bethlehem shone.

Chaldea's sages saw that orb afar,
Glow unextinguished ;--'twas Salvation's Star.

Hear'st thou that solemn symphony, that swells And echoes through Philippi's gloomy cells?

From vault to vault the heavy notes rebound,
And granite rocks reverberate the sound.

The wretch, who long, in dungeons cold and dank,
Had shook his fetters, that their iron clank
Might break the grave-like silence of that prison,
On which the Star of Hope had never risen;
Then sunk in slumbers, by despair opprest,
And dream'd of freedom in his broken rest;
Wakes at the musick of those mellow strains,
Thinks it some spirit, and forgets his chains.
'Tis Paul and Silas; who, at midnight, pay
To Him of Nazareth, a grateful lay.

Soon is that anthem wafted to the skies :

An angel bears it, and a God replies.

With thundering crash, are burst bolts, bars and

locks;

Rent are their chains, and shivered are their stocks ;u
Strong tides of light gush through the yielding doors,
Glance on the walls, and flash along the floors.
Fix'd in dismay, the shuddering keepers gaze

At the bright suns, on Freedom's brow that blaze,
As she descends to break the prisoners' bars,

Whose musick charmed her from her kindred stars.

'Tis night again: for Musick loves to steal Abroad at night; when all her subjects kneel, In more profound devotion, at her throne:

And, at that sober hour, she'll sit alone,
Upon a bank, by her sequestered cell,

And breathe her sorrows through her wreathed shell.
Again 'tis night-the diamond lights on high,
Burn bright, and dance harmonious through the sky;
And Silence leads her downy footed hours,
Round Sion's hill, and Salem's holy towers.
The Lord of Life, with his few faithful friends,
Drown'd in mute sorrow, down that hill descends.
They cross the stream that bathes its foot, and dashes
Around the tomb, where sleep a monarch's ashes ;12
And climb the steep, where oft the midnight air
Received the Sufferer's solitary prayer.
There, in dark bowers imbosomed, Jesus flings
His hand celestial o'er prophetick strings;
Displays his purple robe, his bosom gory,

His crown of thorns, his cross, his future glory :-
And, while the group, each hallowed accent gleaning,
On pilgrim's staff, in pensive posture leaning-

Their reverend beards, that sweep their bosoms, wet
With the chill dews of shady Olivet-