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John Milton

Say, Heavenly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein 15

Afford a present to the Infant God?

Hast thou no verse, no hymn, or solemn strain,

To welcome him to this his new abode,

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Able to be tolerated or allowed; satisfactory or suitable for a particular purpose or situation.

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IV

7 lines
John Milton·1608–1674
ee how from far upon the Eastern rodeThe Star-led Wisards haste with odours sweet,O run, prevent them with thy humble ode,And lay it lowly at his blessed feet;Have thou the honour first, thy Lord to greet,And joyn thy voice unto the Angel Quire,From out his secret Altar toucht with hallow'd fire.