He saw a threefold Sun, with rich encrease
Make proud the ruby portalls of the East.
He saw the Temple sacred to sweet Peace,
Adore her Prince's birth, flat on her brest.
He saw the falling idolls, all confesse
A comming Deity: He saw the nest
Of pois'nous and unnaturall loves, Earth-nurst,
Toucht with the World's true antidote, to burst.
XVII.
He saw Heav'n blossome with a new-borne light,
On which, as on a glorious stranger gaz'd
The golden eyes of Night: whose beame made bright
The way to Beth'lem and as boldly blaz'd,
(Nor askt leave of the sun) by day as night.
By whom (as Heav'ns illustrious hand-maid) rais'd,
Three kings (or what is more) three wise men went
Westward to find the World's true orient.
XVIII.
Strucke with these great concurrences of things,
Symptomes so deadly unto Death and him;
Faine would he have forgot what fatall strings
Eternally bind each rebellious limbe.
He shooke himselfe, and spread his spatious wings:
Which like two bosom'd sailes, embrace the dimme
Aire, with a dismall shade; but all in vaine:
Of sturdy adamant is his strong chaine.
XIX.
While thus Heav'n's highest counsails, by the low
Footsteps of their effects, he trac'd too well,
He tost his troubled eyes: embers that glow
Now with new rage, and wax too hot for Hell:
With his foule clawes he fenc'd his furrowed brow,
And gave a gastly shreeke, whose horrid yell
Ran trembling through the hollow vaults of Night,
The while his twisted tayle he gnaw'd for spight.
XX.
Yet on the other side, faine would he start
Above his feares, and thinke it cannot be.
He studies Scripture, strives to sound the heart
And feele the pulse of every prophecy;
He knows (but knowes not how, or by what art)
The Heav'n-expecting ages hope to see
A mighty Babe, Whose pure, unspotted birth
From a chast virgin wombe, should blesse the Earth.