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SUBJECT ILLUSTRATED.

He feels from Juda's land

The dreaded Infant's hand,

The rays

of Bethlehem blind his dusky eyn;

Nor all the gods beside

Longer dare abide,

Not Typhon huge ending in snaky twine :

Our Babe, to show his Godhead true,

Can in his swaddling bands controul the damned

crew.

INFANT HERCULES STRANGLING THE SNAKE
-ADAPTED FROM FIGURE IN ROYAL
GALLERY OF FLORENCE.

INFANT JESUS TRIUMPHING OVER HEATHEN

Gods.

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 Fayes

Fly after the night-steeds, leaving their moon

loved maze.

But see, the Virgin blest

Hath laid her Babe to rest;

Time is, our tedious song should here have

[blocks in formation]

ending;

Heaven's youngest-teemed star

Hath fix'd her polish'd car,

Her sleeping Lord with handmaid lamp

attending:

And all about the courtly stable

Bright harness'd Angels sit in order serviceable." L. Frölich.

43

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THIS is the month, and this the happy morn,
Wherein the Son of Heaven's Eternal King,
Of wedded Maid and Virgin Mother born,
Our great redemption from above did bring;
For so the holy sages once did sing,

That he our deadly forfeit should release,

And with his Father work us a perpetual peace.

That glorious form, that light unsufferable,

And that far-beaming blaze of majesty,

Wherewith he wont at Heaven's high council-table

To sit the midst of Trinal Unity,

He laid aside; and, here with us to be,

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