A sacred Eclogue, compos’d of several Passages of Isaiah the Prophet.

Written in Imitation of Virgil’s POLLIO.

                Ye Nymphs of Solyma! begin the Song: 
                To heav’nly Themes sublimer Strains belong. 
                The Mossy Fountains, and the Sylvan Shades,
                The Dreams of Pindus and th’ Aonian Maids,
                Delight no more—­O Thou my Voice inspire,
                Who touch’d Isaiah’s [hallow’d [2]] Lips with Fire! 
                Rapt into future Times, the Bard begun;
                A Virgin shall conceive, a Virgin bear a Son!

[Isaiah, From Jesse’s Root behold a Branch arise, Cap.  II.  Whose sacred Flow’r with Fragrance fills the Skies. v. 1.] Th’ AEthereal Spirit o’er its Leaves shall move,
                And on its Top descends the Mystick Dove.

[Cap. 45.        Ye Heav’ns! from high the dewy Nectar pour,
v. 8.]          And in soft Silence shed the kindly Show’r!

[Cap. 25.  The Sick and Weak, the healing Plant shall aid, v. 4.] From Storms a Shelter, and from Heat a Shade. 
                All Crimes shall cease, and ancient Fraud shall fail;

[Cap. 9.  Returning Justice lift aloft her Scale;
v. 7.] Peace o’er the World her Olive Wand extend,
                And white-rob’d Innocence from Heav’n descend. 
                Swift fly the Years, and rise th’ expected Morn! 
                Oh spring to Light, Auspicious Babe, be born! 
                See Nature hastes her earliest Wreaths to bring,
                With all the Incense of the breathing Spring: 

[Cap. 35.  See lofty Lebanon his Head advance,
v. 2.] See nodding Forests on the Mountains dance,
                See spicy Clouds from lowly Sharon rise,
                And Carmels flow’ry Top perfumes the Skies!

[Cap. 40.  Hark! a glad Voice the lonely Desart chears;
v. 3, 4.] Prepare the Way! a God, a God appears: 
                A God! a God! the vocal Hills reply,
                The Rocks proclaim th’ approaching Deity. 
                Lo Earth receives him from the bending Skies! 
                Sink down ye Mountains, and ye Vallies rise! 
                With Heads declin’d, ye Cedars, Homage pay! 
                Be smooth ye Rocks, ye rapid Floods give way! 
                The SAVIOUR comes! by ancient Bards foretold;

[Cap. 42. v. 18.] Hear him, ye Deaf, and all ye Blind behold!

[Cap. 35.  He from thick Films shall purge the visual Ray,
v. 5, 6.] And on the sightless Eye-ball pour the Day. 
                ‘Tis he th’ obstructed Paths of Sound shall clear,
                And bid new Musick charm th’ unfolding Ear,
                The Dumb shall sing, the Lame his Crutch forego,
                And leap exulting like the bounding Roe;
                [No Sigh, no Murmur the wide World shall hear,
                From ev’ry Face he wipes off ev’ry Tear.