Page:Poems of Mr. John Milton, Both English and Latin, Compos'd at several times.djvu/27

 They call the grisly king,
 * In dismall dance about the furnace blue,

The brutish gods of Nile as fast, Isis and Orus, and the Dog Anubis hast.

Nor is Osiris seen In Memphian Grove, or Green,
 * Trampling the unshowr'd Grasse with lowings loud:

Nor can he be at rest Within his sacred chest,
 * Naught but profoundest Hell can be his shroud,

In vain with Timbrel'd Anthems dark The sable-stoled Sorcerers bear his worshipt Ark.

He feels from Juda's land The dredded Infants hand,
 * The rayes of Bethlehem blind his dusky eyn;

Nor all the gods beside, Longer dare abide,
 * Nor Typhon huge ending in snaky twine:

Our Babe, to shew his Godhead true, Can in his swadling bands controul the damned crew.

So when the Sun in bed, Curtain'd with cloudy red, Pillows