Alexander Pope (1688–1744). Complete Poetical Works. 1903.

Poems: 1708–12


  • Written, according to Courthope, in. 1712.
  • In reading several passages of the prophet Isaiah, which foretell the coming of Christ, and the felicities attending it, I could not but observe a remarkable parity between many of the thoughts and those in the Pollio of Virgil. This will not seem surprising, when we reflect that the Eclogue was taken from a Sibylline prophecy on the same subject. One may judge that Virgil did not copy it line by line, but selected such ideas as best agreed with the nature of Pastoral Poetry, and disposed them in that manner which served most to beautify his piece. I have endeavoured the same in this imitation of him, though without admitting any thing of my own; since it was written with this particular view, that the reader, by comparing the several thoughts, might see how far the images and descriptions of the Prophet are superior to those of the Poet. But as I fear I have prejudiced them by my management, I shall subjoin the passages of Isaiah, and those of Virgil, under the same disadvantage of a literal translation.

  • YE Nymphs of Solyma! begin the song:

    To heav’nly themes sublimer strains belong.

    The mossy fountains, and the sylvan shades,

    The dreams of Pindus, and th’ Aonian maids,

    Delight no more—O Thou my voice inspire

    Who touch’d Isaiah’s hallow’d 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;

    Th’ ethereal spirit o’er its leaves shall move,

    And on its top descends the mystic dove.

    Ye Heav’ns! 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 Heav’n descend.

    Swift fly the years, and rise th’ 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 Saron rise,

    And Carmel’s flow’ry top perfumes the skies!

    Hark! a glad voice the lonely desert cheers;

    Prepare the way! a God, a God appears!

    A God, a God! the vocal hills reply;

    The Rocks proclaim th’ approaching Deity.

    Lo, Earth receives him from the bending skies!

    Sink down, ye Mountains, and, ye valleys, rise;

    With heads declin’d, 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 eyeball pour the day:

    ’T is he th’ obstructed paths of sound shall clear,

    And bid new music charm th’ unfolding ear:

    The dumb shall sing, the lame his crutch forego,

    And leap exulting like the bounding roe.

    No sigh, no murmur, 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 th’ eternal wound.

    As the good Shepherd tends his fleecy care,

    Seeks freshest pasture and the purest air,

    Explores the lost, the wand’ring 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 falchion in a ploughshare end.

    Then palaces shall rise; the joyful son

    Shall finish what his short-lived sire 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 deserts with surprise

    See lilies spring, and sudden verdure rise;

    And start, amidst the thirsty wilds, to hear

    New falls of water murm’ring in his ear.

    On rifted rocks, the dragon’s late abodes,

    The green reed trembles, and the bulrush nods;

    Waste sandy valleys, once perplex’d with thorn,

    The spiry fir and shapely box adorn;

    To leafless shrubs the flow’ring palms succeed,

    And od’rous myrtle to the noisome weed.

    The lambs with wolves shall graze the verdant mead,

    And boys in flow’ry bands the tiger 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 lustre of the scales survey,

    And with their forky tongue 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 every 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 Sabæan 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 power remains;—

    Thy realm for ever lasts, thy own Messiah reigns!