In consecrated Earth,

And on the boly Hearth,

xxi

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 holy shine, The Libyc Hammon shrinks his horn,

In vain the Tyrian Maids their wounded Thamuz

mourn.

xxiii

And sullen Moloch fled,

Hath 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 bis 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 buge ending in snaky twine: Our Babe to shew his Godhead true,

Can in his swadling bands controul the damned crew.

xxvi

So when the Sun in bed,

Curtain'd with cloudy red,

The flocking shadows pale,

Pillows his chin upon an Orient wave,

Each fetter'd Ghost slips to his severally

grave,

Troop to th'infernall jail,

And the yellow-skirted Fayes,

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