O chaste Lucina! speed the mother's pains,

And haste the glorious birth! thy own Apollo reigns! The lovely boy, with his auspicious face,

Shall Pollio's consulship and triumph grace;

Majestic months set out with him to their appointed race.

The father banish'd virtue shall restore,

And crimes shall threat the guilty world no more.

The son shall lead the life of gods, and be

By gods and heroes seen, and gods and heroes see.
The jarring nations he in peace shall bind,

And with paternal virtues rule mankind.
Unbidden Earth shall wreathing ivy bring,
And fragrant herbs (the promises of spring),
As her first off'rings to her infant king.

The goats with strutting dugs shall homeward speed,
And lowing herds secure from lions feed.

His cradle shall with rising flowers be crown'd:
The serpent's brood shall die; the sacred ground
Shall weeds and pois'nous plants refuse to bear;
Each common bush shall Syrian roses wear.

But when heroic verse his youth shall raise,
And form it to hereditary praise,

Unlabour'd harvests shall the fields adorn,

And cluster'd grapes shall blush on every thorn;

The knotted oaks shall show'rs of honey weep;
And thro' the matted grass the liquid gold shall creep.

Yet of old fraud some footsteps shall remain:
The merchant still shall plough the deep for gain;
Great cities shall with walls be compass'd round,
And sharpen'd shares shall vex the fruitful ground;
Another Tiphys shall new seas explore;

Another Argo land the chiefs upon th' Iberian shore;
Another Helen other wars create,

And great Achilles urge the Trojan fate.

But when to ripen'd manhood he shall grow,

The greedy sailor shall the seas forego;

No keel shall cut the waves for foreign ware,

For every soil shall every product bear.

The labouring hind his oxen shall disjoin;

No plough shall hurt the glebe, no pruning-hook the vine; Nor wool shall in dissembled colours shine;

But the luxurious father of the fold,

With native purple, or unborrow'd gold,

Beneath his pompous fleece shall proudly sweat;
And under Tyrian robes the lamb shall bleat.
The Fates, when they this happy web have spun,
Shall bless the sacred clew, and bid it smoothly run.

The righteous is delivered out of trouble.

And he that shalt humble himself shall be exalted.

Blessed are they who hear the word of God, and keep it.

As for the upright, he directeth his way.

I am the light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life.

If a man walk in the day, he stumbleth not, because he seeth the light of this world.

If thy whole body therefore be full of light, having no part dark, the whole body shall be full of light.

The just shall see, and shall rejoice, and all iniquity shall stop her mouth.

If any man be a server of God, and doth his will, him he heareth.

Whoso keepeth his word, in him verily is the love of God perfected.

He shall be a vessel unto honour, sanctified, and meet for the master's use, and prepared unto every good work.

To him that thirsteth, I will give of the fountain of the water of life, freely.

My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness.

Thou shalt have treasure in heaven.

He that doth the will of God, abideth for ever.

And he that keepeth his commandments dwelleth in him, and he in him.

Mature in years, to ready honours move,

O of celestial seed! O foster-son of Jove!

See, lab'ring Nature calls thee to sustain

The nodding frame of heav'n, and earth, and main !
See to their base restor'd, earth, seas, and air;
And joyful ages, from behind, in crowding ranks appear.

To sing thy praise, would Heav'n my breath prolong,
Infusing spirits worthy such a song,

Not Thracian Orpheus should transcend my lays,

Nor Linus crown'd with never-fading bays;

Tho' each his heav'nly parent should inspire;

The Muse instruct the voice, and Phoebus tune the lyre.
Should Pan contend in verse, and thou my theme,

Arcadian judges should their god condemn.

Begin, auspicious boy! to cast about

Thy infant eyes, and, with a smile, thy mother single out:

Thy mother well deserves that short delight,

The nauseous qualms of ten long months and travail to requite.

Then smile! the frowning infant's doom is read;

No god shall crown the board, nor goddess bless the bed.

"ALL CRIMES SHALL CEASE"

POPE'S "MESSIAH"

They shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruninghooks: nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.-THE SON OF AMOZ

E Nymphs of Solyma! begin the song:

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 lips with fire!

Rapt into future times, the bard begun :

A virgin shall conceive, a virgin bear a son!
From Jesse's root behold a branch arise,

Whose sacred flower with fragrance fills the skies:
Th' ethereal spirit o'er its leaves shall move,

And on its top descends the mystic dove.
Ye Heav'ns! from high the dewy nectar pour,
And in soft silence shed the kindly shower!

The sick and weak the healing plant shall aid,
From storms a shelter, and from heat a shade.

For the eyes of the Lord are over the righteous, and his ears are open unto their prayers.

The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith,

Meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.

Righteousness keepeth him that is upright in the way.

He that soweth to the Spirit shall of the Spirit reap life everlasting.

To him that overcometh will I give to eat of the tree of life, which is in the midst of the paradise of God. And I will give him the morning star.

To him that overcometh will I give to eat of the hidden manna, and will give him a white stone, and in the stone a new name written, which no man knoweth saving he that receiveth it.

He that overcometh, the same shall be clothed in white raiment; and I will not blot out his name out of the book of life, but I will confess his name before my Father, and before his angels.

To him that shall overcome, I will give to sit with me in my throne: as I also have overcome, and am set down with my Father in his throne.

Ie that overcometh shall inherit all things; and I will be his God, and he shall be my son.

All crimes shall cease, and ancient fraud shall fail, Returning Justice lift aloft her scale;

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! O spring to light, auspicious babe! be born.

See Nature hastes her earliest wreaths to bring,
With all the incense of the breathing spring:
See lofty Lebanon his head advance,
See nodding forests on the mountains dance:
See spicy clouds from lowly Saron rise,
And Carmel's flow'ry top perfumes the skies!

Hark! a glad voice the lonely desert cheers;
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 valleys, 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!
Hear him, ye deaf, and all ye blind, behold!

He from thick films shall purge the visual ray,
And on the sightless eyeball pour the day:
"T is he th' obstructed paths of sound shall clear,
And bid new music 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 every face he wipes off every tear.
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 wand'ring 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 trumpet kindle rage no more;
But useless lances into scythes shall bend,
And the broad falchion in a ploughshare end.