And, though the shady Gloom Had given day her room, The sun himself withheld his wonted speed, And hid his head for shame, As his inferiour flame The new-enlightn'd world no more should need; He saw a greater sun appear Than his bright throne or burning axle-tree{19} could bear. VIII. The shepherds on the lawn{20} Or ere{21} the point of dawn Sate simply chatting in a rustick row; Full little thought they than That the mighty Pan{22} Was kindly com to live with them below; Perhaps their loves, or else their sheep, Was all that did their silly{23} thoughts so busie keep. IX. When such musick sweet Their hearts and ears did greet As never was by mortall finger strook,{24} Divinely warbled voice Answering the stringed noise{25} As all their souls in blissfull rapture took; The air, such pleasure loth to lose, With thousand echo's still prolongs each heav'nly close.{26} X. Nature that heard such sound Beneath the hollow round{27} Of Cynthia's seat the airy region thrilling, Now was almost won To think her part was don, And that her raign had here its{28} last fulfilling; She knew such harmony alone Could hold all Heav'n and Earth in happier union. XI. At last surrounds their sight A globe of circular light, That with long beams the shame-fac't Night array'd; The helmed Cherubim,{29} The sworded Seraphim Are seen in glittering ranks with wings displaied, Harping in loud and solemn quire With unexpressive{30} notes to Heav'n's new-born Heir. XII. Such musick (as 'tis said) Before was never made But when of old the sons of Morning sung,{31} While the Creator great His constellation set, And the well-ballanc't world on hinges{32} hung, And cast the dark foundations deep, And bid the weltring{33} waves their oozy channel keep. XIII. Ring out, ye crystall sphears;{34} Once bless our humane ears (If ye have power to touch our senses so), And let your silver chime Move in melodious time, And let the base of Heav'ns deep organ blow, And with your ninefold harmony Make up full consort{35} to th' angelike symphony. XIV. For, if such holy song Enwrap our fancy long, Time will run back and fetch the age of Gold;{36} And speckl'd Vanity Will sicken soon and die, And leprous sin will melt from earthly mould;{37} And Hell itself will pass away, And leave her{38} dolorous mansions to the peering day. XV.