Ye flaming Powers, and wingèd Warriors bright, <br />That erst with music, and triumphant song, <br />First heard by happy watchful Shepherds’ ear, <br />So sweetly sung your joy the clouds along, <br />Through the soft silence of the listening night,— <br />Now mourn; and if sad share with us to bear <br />Your fiery essence can distill no tear, <br />Burn in your sighs, and borrow <br />Seas wept from our deep sorrow, <br />He who with all Heaven’s heraldry whilere <br />Entered the world, now bleeds to give us ease. <br />Alas! how soon our sin <br />Sore doth begin <br />His infancy to seize! <br />O more exceeding Love, or Law more just? <br />Just Law indeed, but more exceeding Love! <br />For we, by rightful doom remediless, <br />Were lost in death, till He, that dwelt above <br />High-throned in secret bliss, for us frail dust <br />Emptied his glory, even to nakedness; <br />And that great Covenant which we still transgress <br />Intirely satisfied, <br />And the full wrath beside <br />Of vengeful Justice bore for our excess, <br />And seals obedience first with wounding smart <br />This day; but oh! ere long, <br />Huge pangs and strong <br />Will pierce more near his heart.<br /><br />John Milton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/upon-the-circumcision/
