She walks in beauty The harp the monarch minstrel swept If that high world The wild gazelle Oh! weep for those On Jordan's banks
Jephtha's daughter. Oh! snatched away in beauty's bloom My soul is dark
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Vision of Belshazzar Sun of the sleepless ! Were my bosom as false as thou deemst it to be Herod's lament for Mariamne On the day of the destruction of Jerusalem by Titus By the rivers of Babylon we sat down and wept