The Messiah : A Sacred Eclogue poem – Alexander Pope

A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) , the greatest English poet of “Augustan” or Georgian period

Ye nymphs of Solyma! begin the song,

To heavenly themes sublimer strains belong.

The mossy fountains, and the sylvan shades,

The dreams of Pindus, and the Aonian maids,

Delight no more – O thou, my voice inspire,

Who touched Isaiah’s hallowed lips with fire!

Rapt into future times the bard begun,

A virgin shall conceive, a Virgin bear a son!

From Jesse’s root behold a branch arise,

Whose sacred flower with fragrance fills the skies;

The ethereal Spirit o’er its leaves shall move,

And on its top descend the mystic Dove.

Ye heavens! from high the dewy nectar pour,

And in soft silence shed the kindly shower!

The sick and weak, the healing Plant shall aid,

From storms a shelter, and from heat a shade.

All crimes shall cease, and ancient fraud shall fail;

Returning justice lift aloft her scale.

Peace o’er the world her olive wand extend,

And white robed innocence from heaven descend.

Swift fly the years, and rise the expected morn!

O spring to light, auspicious Babe, be born!

See! nature hastes her earliest wreaths to bring,

WIth all the incense of the breathing spring!

See! lofty Lebanon his head advance,

See! nodding forests on the mountains dance:

See! spicy clouds from lowly Sharon rise;

And Carmel’s flowery top perfumes the skies.

Hark! a glad voice the lonely desart cheers;

Prepare the way! a God, a God appears:

A God, a God! the vocal hills reply,

The rocks proclaim the approaching Deity.

Lo! earth receives him from the bending skies!

Sink down ye mountains, and ye vallies rise!

With heads declined ye cedars homage pay!

Be smooth ye rocks, ye rapid floods give way!

The Saviour comes! by ancient bards foretold:

Hear him ye deaf, and all ye blind, behold!

He from thick films shall purge the visual ray,

And on the sightless eye-ball pour the day.

‘Tis he the obstructed paths of sound shall clear,

The dumb shall sing, the lame his crutch forego,

And leap exulting like the bounding roe:

No sigh, no murmer the wide world shall hear;

From every face he wipes off every tear.

In adamantine chains shall death be bound,

And hell’s grim tyrant feel the eternal wound.

As the good shepherd tends his fleecy care,

Seeks freshest pastures and the purest air:

Explores the lost, the wandering sheep directs,

By day o’ersees them, and by night protects;

The tender lambs he raises in his arms,

Feeds from his hand, and in his bosom warms!

Thus shall mankind his guardian care engage,

The promis’d father of the future age.

No more shall nation against nation rise,

Nor ardent warriors meet with hateful eyes;

Nor fields with gleaming steel be cover’d o’er,

The brazen trumpets kindle rage no more;

But useless lances into scythes shall bend,

And the broad faulchion in a plough-share end.

Then palaces shall rise: the joyful son

Shall finish what his short-liv’d fire begun;

Their vines a shadow to their race shall yield,

And the same hand that sow’d, shall reap the field.

The swain in barren desarts with surprise

Sees lillies spring, and sudden verdure rise,

And starts amidst the thirsty wilds to hear

New falls of water murmuring in his ear;

On rifted rocks, the dragon’s late abodes,

The green reed trembles, and the bulrush nods.

Waste sandy vallies once perplex’d with thorn,

The spiry fir and shapely box adorn;

The leafless shrubs the flow’ring palms succeed,

And odorous myrtle to the noisome weed.

The lambs with wolves shall grace the verdant mead,

And boys in flow’ry bands the tyger lead;

The steer and lion at one crib shall meet,

And harmless serpents lick the pilgrim’s feet.

The smiling infant in his hand shall take

The crested basilisk and speckled snake;

Pleas’d, the green lustres of the scales survey,

And with their forky tongues shall innocently play.

Rise, crown’d with light, imperial Salem rise!

Exalt thy tow’ry head, and lift thy eyes!

See! a long race thy spacious courts adorn;

See! future sons and daughters yet unborn,

In crowding ranks on ev’ry side arise,

Demanding life, impatient for the skies!

See! barb’rous nations at thy gates attend,

Walk in thy light, and in thy temple bend;

See! thy bright altars throng’d with prostrate kings,

And heap’d with products of Sabaean springs!

For thee Idume’s spicy forests blow,

And seeds of gold in Ophir’s mountains glow.

See! heav’n its sparkling portals wide display,

And break upon thee in a flood of day!

No more the rising sun shall gild the morn,

Nor ev’ning Cynthia fill her silver horn;

But lost, dissolv’d in thy superior rays,

One tide of glory, one unclouded blaze,

O’erflow thy courts: the Light Himself shall shine

Reveal’d, and God’s eternal day be thine!

The seas shall waste, the skies in smoke decay,

Rocks fall to dust, and mountains melt away;

But fix’d his word, his saving pow’r remains,

Thy realm for ever lasts, thy own Messiah reigns.

Poetry Monster – Home

A few random poems:

External links

Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus

Talking Writing Monster’s Page –

Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh

Poems in English 

• Robert Burns: Written By Somebody On The Window Of an Inn at Stirling, on seeing the Royal Palace in ruin.: Of an Inn at Stirling, on seeing the Royal Palace in ruin. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: To Miss Ferrier: Enclosing the Elegy on Sir J. H. Blair. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Impromptu On Carron Iron Works: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Elegy On The Death Of Sir James Hunter Blair: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: On The Death Of John M’Leod, Esq,: Brother to a young Lady, a particular friend of the Author’s. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Epigram To Miss Jean Scott: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: The Bard At Inverary: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Elegy On “Stella”: The following poem is the work of some hapless son of the Muses who deserved a better fate. There is a great deal of “The voice of Cona” in his solitary, mournful notes; and had the sentiments been clothed in Shenstone’s language, they would have been no discredit even to that elegant poet.-R.B. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Burlesque Lament For The Absence Of William Creech, Publisher: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Epigram To Miss Ainslie In Church: Who was looking up the text during sermon. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Address To Wm. Tytler, Esq., Of Woodhouselee: With an Impression of the Author’s Portrait. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Hey, Ca’ Thro’ – Boat song: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Epitaph For Mr. William Michie: Schoolmaster of Cleish Parish, Fifeshire. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Epitaph For William Nicol, Of The High School, Edinburgh: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Lines Written Under The Picture Of The Celebrated Miss Burns: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: A Bottle And Friend: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: On Elphinstone’s Translation Of Martial’s Epigrams: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: The Book-Worms: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Epigram Addressed To An Artist: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Epigram At Roslin Inn: by Robert Burns

More external links (open in a new tab):

Russian Commerce Agency

Dealing Monster

Doska or the Board – write anything

Search engines:

Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)

Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.

Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees

Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.

Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.

 

Parallel Translations of Poetry

Poems by Author and Category

The Poetry Repository – an online library of poems, poetry, verse and poetic works