BOOK XI.
Hasten to earth, celestial Graces three, If, though heav'n born, ye not the rather here Belong, or should belong, though to few known, And much defrauded hence of homage due. Not by Baltassar thus, who through your aid, Braved harmlessly the lions in their den ; Nor those three children midst the furnace, who, Though sev'n times heated, walk'd unscath'd by fire. Not those I call, whose muse disdains t' invoke Aglaia, Thalia, and Euphrosyne, Though, outward fair, in naked beauty seen, Faint seeming have, to what I fondly judge ; And only seeming, but shine real there, Where Faith, Hope, Charity, erect their shrines, The sacred three, who now my muse indite. Descend then heavenly sisters, nor delay, Your virtues to instil, divinely fair, In hearts bereaved, by violence and death, Of their loved Lord, feeble in faith, of hope Bereft, and doubting of the promised end Glory of Israel's state and name restored; Still deeming temporal the promise giv'n.
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