REDEMPTION. 89
And spied the flower, which her attention drew.
An insect, coil'd within its bell, reposed,
Apt to his purpose, more than hoped, so found.
Not pausing, quick, from great to smallest size,
(So spirits may, or small, large, thin, or dense,
Or rare, as suits them best,) he him contracts,
And creeps insidiously its folds within.
The Virgin, yet unconscious of the snare,
The lily plucks, and seeks its fragrant breath,
When from its depths arose faint, murm'ring sounds;
And words, or seeming words, (for nought the sense
Intelligential heard,) salute her ear.
Instinctive arm'd, alert, instant the flower
With its deceit, she hurls upon the ground.
Swelling with rage the reptile grows, involved
In many a tortuous fold beneath
Her foot immaculate, courageously
With which, she crush'd the wily Serpent's head,
And final triumph'd o'er her mortal foe.
Earth felt the joy the Virgin's vict'ry gave, And bounded blithely on her circling course; Her seas rejoice, her hills and valleys smile, And Nature gaudful shouts aloud her praise. Nor less the heav'ns, the while hung in suspense, Refrain to join with earth's, their higher praise, Or hold, suffused with blissful joy, to strike Their harps of burnish'd gold. Prostrate before The throne, they halleluiahs sing, and Him, Who sits thereon, holy and true, adore; Whilst fragrant incense, prayers of all the saints, Ambrosia scented, fresh from tree of life, Which but th' eternal plains of heav'n exhale,
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