O sylvan prophet! whose eternal fame <br />Echoes from Judah's hills and Jordan's stream; <br />The music of our numbers raise, <br />And tune our voices to thy praise. <br /> <br />A messenger from high Olympus came <br />To bear the tidings of thy life and name, <br />And told thy sire each prodigy <br />That Heaven designed to work in thee. <br /> <br />Hearing the news, and doubting in surprise, <br />His falt'ring speech in fettered accent dies; <br />But Providence, with happy choice, <br />In thee restored thy father's voice. <br /> <br />In the recess of Nature's dark abode, <br />Though still enclosed, yet knewest thou thy God; <br />Whilst each glad parent told and blessed <br />The secrets of each other's breast.<br /><br />John Dryden<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hymn-for-st-john-s-eve-29th-june/
