To wifh thou never hadft rejected thus
Nicely or cautiously my offer'd aid,
Which would have fet thee in short time with ease
On David's throne, or throne of all the world,
Now at full age, fulnefs of time, thy feafon, 380
When prophecies of thee are beft fulfill'd.
Now contrary, if I read ought in Heaven,
Or Heav'n write ought of fate, by what the stars
Voluminous, or fingle characters,
In their conjunction met, give me to fpell,
Sorrows, and labors, oppofition, hate
Attends thee, fcorns, reproaches, injuries,
Violence and ftripes, and laftly cruel death;
A kingdom they portend thee, but what kingdom,
Real or allegoric I difcern not,
Nor when, eternal fure, as without end,
Without beginning; for no date prefix'd
Directs me in the starry rubric fet.
So fay'ing he took (for still he knew his
Not yet expir'd) and to the wilderness
Brought back the Son of God, and left him there,
Feigning to difappear. Darkness now rofe,
As day-light funk, and brought in louring night
Her fhadowy ofspring, unfubftantial both,
Privation mere of light and absent day.
Our Saviour meek and with untroubled mind
After his aery jaunt, though hurried fore,
Hungry and cold betook him to his rest,
Wherever, under fome concourse of shades,
Whose branching arms thick intertwin'd might shield
From dews and damps of night his fhelter'd head,
But shelter'd slept in vain, for at his head
The Tempter watch'd, and foon with ugly dreams
Difturb'd his fleep; and either tropic now
'Gan thunder, and both ends of Heav'n, the clouds
From many a horrid rift abortive pour`d
Fierce rain with lightning mix'd, water with fire
In ruin reconcil'd: nor slept the winds
Within their ftony caves, but rufh'd abroad
From the four hinges of the world, and fell
On the vex'd wilderness, whofe tallest pines,
Though rooted deep as high, and sturdiest oaks
Bow'd their stiff necks, loaden with stormy blasts,
Or torn up sheer: ill waft thou shrouded then,
O patient Son of God, yet only stood'st
Unfhaken ; nor yet stay'd the terror there,
Infernal ghofts, and Hellish furies, round [shriek'd,
Environ'd thee, fome howl'd, fome yell'd, fome
Some bent at thee their fiery darts, while thou
Satft unappall'd in calm and finle's peace.
Thus pais'd the night fo foul, till morning fair
Came forth with pilgrim fteps in amice gray,
Who with her radiant finger ftill'd the roar
Of thunder, chas'd the clouds, and laid the winds,
And grifly spectres, which the Fiend had rais'd 430
To tempt the Son of God with terrors dire.
And now the fun with more effectual beams
Had chear'd the face of earth, and dry'd the wet
From drooping plant, or dropping tree; the birds,
Who all things now behold more fresh and green,
After a night of term fo ruinous,
Clear'd up their choiceft notes in bush and fpray
To gratulate the fweet return of morn;
Nor yet amidft this joy and brightest morn
Was abfent, after all his mifchief done,
The prince of darkness, glad would alfo feem
Of this fair change, and to our Saviour came,
Yet with no new device, they all were spent,
Rather by this his last affront refolv'd,
Defp rate of better courfe, to vent his rage,
G 3
And mad defpite to be fo oft repell'd.
Him walking on a funny hill he found,
Back'd on the north and weft by a thick wood;
Out of the wood he starts in wonted shape,
And in a careless mood thus to him faid.
Fair morning yet betides thee, Son of God, After a difinal night; I heard the wrack As earth and fky would mingle; but myself Was diftant; and thefe flaws, though mortals fear them As dangerous to the pillar'd frame of Heaven, 455 Or to the earth's dark bafis underneath,
Are to the main as inconfiderable,
And harmlefs, if not wholfome, as a sneeze
To man's lefs univerfe, and foon are gone;
Yet as being oft times noxious where they light 460
On man, beaft, plant, waftful and turbulent,
Like turbulencies in th' affairs of men,
Over whole heads they roar, and seem to point,
They oft fore-fignify and threaten ill :
This tempeft at this defert moft was bent;
Of men at thee, for only thou here dwell'ft.
Did I not tell thee, if thou didst reject
The perfect season offer'd with my aid
To win thy deftin'd feat, but wilt prolong
All to the pufh of fate, purfue thy way
Of gaining David's throne no man knows when,
For both the when and how is no where told,
Thou shalt be what thou art ordain'd, no doubt;
For Angels have proclam'd it, but concealing
The time and means: each act is rightlieft done, 475
Not when it muft, but when it may be beft.
If thou obferve not this, be fure to find,
What I foretold thee, many a hard affay
Of dangers, and adverfities, and pains,
Ere thou of Ifrael's fcepter get faft hold;
Whereof this ominous night that clos'd thee round, So many terrors, voices, prodigies
May warn thee, as a fure fore-going fign.
So talk'd he, while the Son of God went on And stay'd not, but in brief him anfwer'd thus. 485 Me worse than wet thou find'st not; other harm Those terrors which thou speak'st of, did me none; I never fear'd they could, though noifing loud And threatning nigh; what they can do as figns Betokening, or ill boding, I contemn As falfe portents, not sent from God, but thee; Who knowing I fhall reign paft thy preventing, Obtrud ft thy offer'd aid, that I accepting At least might feem to hold all pow'r of thee, Ambitious Spirit, and wouldst be thought my God, And ftorm't refus'd, thinking to terrify Me to thy will; defift, thou art difcern'd And toil'ft in vain, nor me in vain moleft. To whom the Fiend now fwoln with rage reply'd. Then hear, O Son of David, Virgin-born; For Son of God to me is yet in doubt: Of the Meffiah I have heard foretold By all the Prophets; of thy birth at length Announc'd by Gabriel with the first I knew, And of th' angelic fong in Bethlehem field, On thy birth-night, that fung thee Saviour born. From that time feldom have I ceas'd to eye Thy infancy, thy childhood, and thy youth, Thy manhood last, though yet in private bred ;Till at the ford of Jordan whither all Flock'd to the Baptift, I among the rest, Though not to be baptiz`d, by voice from Heaven Heard thee pronounc'd the Son of God belov'd. Thenceforth I thought thee worth my nearer view And narrower fcrutiny, that I might learn
Then in a flow'ry valley fet him down
On a green bank, and fet before him spread
A table of celeftial food, divine,
Ambrofial fruits, fetch'd from the tree of life,
And from the fount of life ambrofial drink,
That foon refresh'd him wearied, and repair'd
What hunger, if ought hunger had impair'd,
Or thirst; and as he fed, angelic quires
Sung heav'nly anthems of his victory
Over temptation, and the Tempter proud.
True Image of the Father, whether thron'd
In the bofom of blifs, and light of light
Conceiving, or remote from Heav'n, infhrin'd
In fleshly tabernacle, and human form,
Wand'ring the wilderness, whatever place,
Habit, or state, or motion, ftill expreffing
The Son of God, with God-like force indued
Against th' attempter of thy Father's throne,
And thief of Paradife; him long of old
Thou didst debel, and down from Heaven caft 605
With all his army, now thou haft aveng'd
Supplanted Adam, and by vanquishing
Temptation, haft regain'd loft Paradife ;
And frustrated the conqueft fraudulent :
He never more henceforth will dare fet foot
In Paradife to tempt; his fnares are broke:
For though that feat of earthly blifs be fail'd,
A fairer Paradise is founded now
For Adam and his chofen fons, whom thou
A Saviour art come down to re-install
Where they shall dwell fecure, when time fhall be,
Of Tempter and temptation without fear.
But thou, infernal Serpent, fhalt not long
Rule in the clouds; like an autumnal star
Or lightning thou shalt fall from Heav'n, trod down.
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