The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1896-12-25

And Heav'n. as at some festival.
VIII open wide the gates of her high pal
ace hall.
XVI.
But wisest Fate says no:
This must not yet be so:
=, The Babe lies yet in smiling infancy,
That on the bitter cross
Must redeem our loss
SO both Himself and us to glorify:
Yet first. to those ycnain'd in sleep.
The wakeful trump of doom must thun-
der through the deep.
With such a horrid clang
AS on Mount Sinai rang,
While the red fire and smouldering
clouds out brake:
The aged Earth, aghast
With terror of that blast,
Shall from the surface to the centre
When at the worlds last session
The dreadful Judge in middle air shall
spread His throne.
And then at last our bliss
Full and perfect is,
But now begins: for. from this happy
day,
TIL old Dragon, under ground
In straiter limits bound
Not half SO far casts his usurped sway;
And, wroth to see his kingdom fail,
Swindges the scaly horror of his folded
tall
NIX.
The oracies are dumb;
No voice or h:deous hum
Runs through the arched roof in words
deceiving.
Apollo from his shrine
Can no more divine,
With hollow. Shrek the steep of Del
No nightly trance or breathed spell
Inspired the pale-ey'd priest from the
prophetic cell.
The lonely mountain DER.
And the resounding shore,
A voice of weeping heard and loud la
ment;
Edg'd poplar pale,
From haunted spring. and dale
The parting genius is with signing
sent:
With fiower-inwov'n tresses torn,
The nymphs in twilight shade of tangled
thickets mourn.
XXI.
In consecrated earth,
And on the holy hearth,
The Lars and Lemures moan with mid
night plant;
In urns, and affairs round
A drear and dying sound
quaint:
And the chill marble seems to sweat
While each peculiar power forgoes his
wonted seat.
Poor and Baalim
Forsake their temples dim,
With that twice-batter'd god of Pales-
And mooned Ashtaroth,
Heav'ns queen and mother both,
Now sits not grit with tapers' holy
shrine;
The Ldbyic Harmon shrinks his horn;
In vain the Tyrian maids their wounded
Thammuz mourn
And sullen Moloch fed,
Hath left in shadows dread
His burning idol all of blacklist hue;
They call the grisly king,
In vain with cymbals' ring,
The british gods of Nile as fast,
Isis, and Orus, and the dog, lAnubis,
haste.
Nor is Osiris seen
in Memphian grove, or green,
Trampling the unshowr'd grass with
lowings loud
Nor can he be at rest
Within his sacred chest;
Naught but profoundest He'll can be
his shroud:
In vain with timbrelrd anthems dark
The sable-stoled sorcererS bear his wor-
Shipt ark.
He feels from Judas land
The dreaded Infants hand;
The rays of Bethlehem blind his dusky
Nor ali the gods beside
Longer dare abide;
Not Typhon huge ending in snaky
Our Babe, to show His Godhead true,
Can in his swaddling bands control the
damned crew
So when the sun in bed,
Curtain'd with cloudy red.
Pillows his chin upon an orient wave,
The f1ocking shadows pale
Troop to tn internal Jail;
Each fetter'd ghost slips to his several
grave;
And the yellow-skirted fays
Fly after the night-steeds, leaving their
moon-lov'd maze.
XVII
But see, the Virgin blest
Hath laid her Babe to rest
Time is our tedious song should here
have ending:
youngest teemed star
Hath fixt her polisht car,
Her sleeping Lord with handmald
lamp attending;
And all about the courtly stable
angels sit in order serv-
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