When to the blest bright region he was come, The vulgar angels gazed, and made him room: Each laureat monarch welcomes him on high, And to embrace him altogether fly: Then strait the happy guest is shown To his bright and lofty throne, Inferior there to none. A crown beset with little suns, whose rays Shoot forth in foliages resembling bays, Now on his head they place: Then round him all the sacred band Loudly congratulating stand: When after silence made, Thus the sweetest Waller said:-- “Well hast thou merited, triumphant bard! For, once I knew thee militant below, When I myself was so; Dangerous thy post, the combat fierce and hard, Ignorance and rebellion still thy foe; But for those little pains see now the great reward! Mack-Flecknoe and Achitophel Can now no more disturb thy peace, Thy labours past, thy endless joys increase; The more thou hast endured, the more thou dost excel; And for the laurels snatched from thee below, Thou wear’st an everlasting crown upon thy hallowed brow.” V. The bard, who next the new-born saint addrest, Was Milton, for his wonderous poem blest; Who strangely found, in his Lost Paradise, rest. “Great bard,” said he, “’twas verse alone Did for my hideous crime atone, Defending once the worst rebellion. A double share of bliss belongs to thee, For thy rich verse and thy firm loyalty; Some of my harsh and uncouth points do owe To thee a tuneful cadence still below. Thine was indeed the state of innocence, Mine of offence, With studied treason and self-interest stained, Till Paradise Lost wrought Paradise Regained.” He said:--when thus our English Abraham, (In heaven the second of that name, Cowley, as glorious there as sacred here in fame,) “Welcome, Aleides, to this happy place! Our wish, and our long expectation here, Makes thee to us more dear; Thou great destroyer of that monstrous race, Which our sad former seat did harass and disgrace, Be blest and welcomed with our praise! Thy great Herculean labours done, And all the courses of thy zodiac run, Shine here to us, a more illustrious sun! But see! thy brethren gods in poetry, The whole great race divine, Ready in thy applause to join, Who will supply what is defect in me.” VI.