XXX.

A woman "clothed with the sun" Yet fleeing from the Dragon's rage!— The strife in Eden-bowers begun Swells upward to the latest age.

That woman's Son is throned on high; The angelic hosts before Him bend: The sceptre of His empery Subdues the worlds from end to end.

Yet still the sword goes through her heart, For still on earth His Church survives. In her that woman holds a part: In her she suffers, wakes, and strives.

Around her head the stars are set; A dying moon beneath her wanes: But he that letteth still must let: The Power accurst awhile remains.

Break up, strong Earth, thy stony floors, And snatch to penal caverns dun That Dragon from the pit that wars Against the woman and her Son!