Part 9 (1/2)

The Oracles are duh the arched roof in words deceiving

Apollo from his shrine Can no

No nightly trance, or breathed spell, Inspires the pale-ey'd priest from the prophetic cell

20

The lonelyshore, A voice of weeping heard, and loud la'd with poplar pale, The parting Genius is with sighing sent; With flower-inwoven tresses torn The Nyled thickets mourn

21

In consecrated earth, And on the holy hearth, The Lars, and Leht plaint; In urns, and altars round, A drear and dying sound Affrights the Flamens at their service quaint; And the chill oes his wonted seat

22

Peor, and Baalim, Forsake their temples dim, With that twice-batter'd God of Palestine; And mooned Ashtaroth, Heaven's queen and irt with tapers' holy shi+ne: The Libyc Hammon shrinks his horn; In vain the Tyrian maids their wounded Thammuz mourn

23

And sullen Moloch, fled, Hath left in shadows dread, His burning idol all of blackest hue In vain with cy, In dismal dance about the furnace blue; The brutish Gods of Nile as fast, Isis, and Orus, and the dog Anubis, haste

24

Nor is Osiris seen In Merass with lowings loud; Nor can he be at rest Within his sacred chest; Naught but profoundest hell can be his shroud; In vain, with timbrell'd anthems dark, The sable-stoled sorcerers bear his worshi+pp'd ark

25

He feels from Juda's land The dreaded Infant's hand; The rays of Bethleheer dare abide, Not Typhon huge ending in snaky twine: Our Babe, to show his Godhead true, Can in his swaddling bands control the damned crew

26

So, when the sun in bed, Curtain'd with cloudy red, Pillows his chin upon an orient wave, The flocking shadows pale Troop to the infernal jail, Each fetter'd ghost slips to his several grave; And the yellow-skirted fays Fly after the night-steeds, leaving their in blest Hath laid her Babe to rest

Tiest-tee Lord with handht-harness'd Angels sit in order serviceable

X CHARACTER OF LORD FALKLAND