12 September 1780
adams-john10
100

tuesday the 12th of September 1780. Received two lett one a Letter from Mr Thaxter.1 Nothing remarkable this day.

Reading a Volume of the Spectator I found something which I will copy.2

MESSIAH

A sacred Eclogue composed of several Passages of Isaiah the Prophet. Written in imitation of Virgil’s Pollio

Ye Nymphs of Solyma! begin the Song To heavenly Themes sublimer strains belong The Mossy Fountains & the Sylvan Shades, The Dreams of Pindus & 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’ AEthereal spirit oer its leaves shall move & on its top descends the Mystic Dove. Ye Heavens! from high the Dewy Nectar pour & in soft silence shed the kindly shower! The sick & weak the Healing plant shall aid, From storms a shelter, & From heat a shade 101 All Crimes shall cease & ancient fraud shall fail Returning justice lift aloft her scale; Peace oer the world her olive Wand extend, & white rob’d Innocence from Heav’n descend, Swift fly the Years, & rise th’ expected Morn! Oh spring to light auspicious babe be born! See Nature hasts her earliest wreaths to bring, With all the incense of the burning spring; See lofty Lebanon his Head advance, see nodding forests on the mountains dance See spicy clouds from lowly Sharon rise, & Carmel’s flow’ry tops perfumes the skies! Hark! a Glad voice the lonely desert cheers; Prepare the way! a God, a God appears; A God! a God! the vocall Hills reply, The Rocks proclaim th’ approaching deity; Lo earth receives him from the bending Skies Sink down ye mountains, & ye vallies 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, & all ye blind behold! He from thick Films shall purge the visual Ray, & on the sightless eyeball pour the day, ’Tis he th’ obstructed Paths of sound shall clear, & bid new musick charm th’ unfolding ear, The Dumb shall sing the lame his crutch forego, & leap exulting like the bounding Roe; No Sigh, no Murmer the wide World shall hear, From ev’ry Face he wipes off ev’ry Tear, In Adamantine chains shall death be bound, & Hell’s grim Tyrant feel th’ Eternal wound As the good shepherd tends his fleecy Care, Seeks freshest Pastures & the purest Air, 102 Explores the lost, the wand’ring sheep directs, By day oersees them & by night protects, The tender Lambs he raises in his arms Feads from his Hand & in his bosom warms: Mankind shall thus 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, The Brazen Trumpets kindle Rage no more, Nor Fields with gleaming Steel be cover’d oer But useless lances into Scythes shall bend, And the broad Falchion in a ploushare end Then Palaces shall rise; the joyful son shall finish what his short lived sire begun Thier Vines a Shadow to their race shall yeild, & the same Hand that sow’d shall reap the Field The Swain in barren desarts with surprise Sees lillies spring & sudden verdure rise & 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 & the bulrush nods Waste sandy vallies, once perplex’d with thorn The spiry Fir & shapely box adorn: To leafless shrubs the flow’ring Palms succeed, & odorous Myrtle to the noisome weed. The Lambs with wolves shall graze the Verdant mead & boys in flow’ry bands the tiger lead; The Steer & Lion at one crib shall me’et, & harmless serpents lick the Pilgrim’s Feet. The smiling infant in his Hand shall take The crested Basilisk & specled snake; Pleas’d the green lustre of the Scales survey And with their forky Tongue & pointless sting’s shall play Rise crown’d with light, imperial Salem rise; Exalt thy tow’ry head & lift thy eyes! 103 See, a long Race thy spacious courts adorn; See future Sons & 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, & in the Temple bend; See thy bright Altars throng’d with prostrate kings, & heap’d with products of Saboean Springs! For the Idume’s spicy Forests blow, & seeds of gold in Ophir’s mountains glow. See Heav’n its sparkling Portals wide display, & break upon thee in a Flood of day! No more the rising sun shall gild the morn, Nor evening cynthia fill her silver Horn, But lost dissolved in thy superior Rays One tide of glory, one unclouded blaze O’erflow thy Courts: The LIGHT HIMSELF Shall shine Reveal’d, & God’s eternal day be thine! The Seas shall waste, the Skies in smoke decay, Rocks fall to Dust, & Mountains melt away But fix’d his word, His saving pow’r remains Thy Realm forever lasts, thy own Messiah reigns.

Spec. vol 5. Number 378.

1.

Undoubtedly that of 4 Sept., on which date Thaxter also wrote to JA ( Adams Family Correspondence , 3:411–413).

 2.

Here follows, on three and one-half pages in the Diary, Alexander Pope’s poem, “Messiah, A sacred Eclogue . . . in Imitation of Virgil’s Pollio,” from “Spec. vol 5, Number 378,” where the poem was published for the first time on 14 May 1712 (ed. Bond, 3:419–422).
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