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In adamantine chains shall Death be bound, And Hell's grim tyrant feel th' eternal wound. As the good shepherd tends his fleecy care, Seeks freshest pasture and the purest air, Explores the lost, the wandering sheep directs, By day o'ersees them, and by night protects; The tender lambs he raises in his arms, Feeds from his hand, and in his bosom warms; Thus shall mankind his guardian care engage, The promis'd father of the future age. No more shall nation against nation rise, Nor ardent warriors meet with hateful eyes, Nor fields with gleaming steel be cover'd o'er, The brazen trumpets kindle rage no more; But useless lances into scythes shall bend, And the broad falchion in a ploughshare end. Then palaces shall rise ; the joyful son Shall finish what his short-liv'd sire begun; Their vines a shadow to their race shall yield, And the same hand that sow'd shall reap the field. The swain in barren deserts with surprise Sees lilies spring, and sudden verdure rise ; And starts, amidst the thirsty wilds to hear New falls of water murmuring in his ear. On rifted rocks, the dragon's late abodes, The green reed trembles, and the bulrush nods.' Waste sandy valleys, once perplex'd with thorn, The spiry fir and shapely box adorn ; To leafless shrubs the flowering palm succeed, And odorous myrtle to the noisome weed. The lambs with wolves shall graze the verdant mead, And boys in flowery bands the tiger lead; The steer and lion at one crib shall meet, And harmless serpents lick the pilgrim's feet.
The smiling infant in his hand shall take
ODE ON THE MESSIAH. When man had disobey'd his Lord, Vindictive Justice drew the sword;
The rebel and his race shall die,' He spake, and thunders burst the sky, Lo! Jesus pard’ning grace displays, Nor thunders roll, nor lightnings blaze. Jesus, the Saviour, stands confest, In rays of mildest glories drest. As round him press th' angelic crowd, Mercy and Truth he calls aloud; The smiling cherub's wing'd to view, Their pinions sounded as they flew : “Ye favourites of the throne, arise, Bear the strange tidings through the skies! Say, man, th' apostate rebel, lives, Say, Jesus bleeds, and Heav'n forgives.'
In pity to the fallen race, I'll take their nature and their place; I'll bleed, their pardon to procure; I'll die, to make that pardon sure.' Now Jesus leaves his bless'd abode, A virgin's womb receives the God. When the tenth moon had wan'd on Earth, A virgin's womb disclos'd the birth. New praise employs th' ethereal throng, Their golden harps repeat the song; And angels waft th' immortal strains To humble Bethl'em's happy plains.
While there the guardians of the sheep
Cotton CHRIST'S PASSION, FROM A GREEK ODE BY MR.
MASTERS, FORMERLY OF NEW COLLEGE.
No more of earthly subjects sing:
To Heaven, my muse, aspire;
And strike the living lyre.
And suffers on the cross below.
What numbers shall I bring along? From whence shall I begin the song? The mighty mystery I'll sing, inspir'd, Beyond the reach of human wisdom wrought, Beyond the compass of an angel's thought, How by the rage of man his God expird ! I'll make the trackless depths of mercy known, How to redeem his foe God render'd up his Son; I'll raise my voice to tell mankind
The victor's conquest o'er his doom, How in the grave he lay confin'd,
To seal more sure the ravenous tomb. Three days th' infernal empire to subdue, He pass'd triumphant through the coasts of wo; With his own dart the tyrant Death he slew, And led Hell captive through her realms below, A mingled sound from Calvary I hear, And the loud tumults thicken on my ear,