IV. And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride: And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf. V. And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail; And the tents were all silent, the banners alone, The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown. VI. And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail, And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal; FROM JOB. I. A SPIRIT passed before me: I beheld The face of Immortality unveiled Deep sleep came down on ev'ry eye save mine And there it stood,-all formless-but divine: Along my bones the creeping flesh did quake; And as my damp hair stiffened, thus it spake : |