(Set to Music by J. NATHAN.) ROM the last hill that looks on thy once holy dome, I beheld thee, oh Sion! when render'd to Rome : 'Twas thy last sun went down, and the flames of thy fall Flash'd back on the last glance I gave to thy wall. I look'd for thy temple, I look'd for my home, I beheld but the death-fire that fed on thy fane, vain. On many an eve, the high spot whence I gazed While I stood on the height, and beheld the decline Of the rays from the mountain that shone on thy shrine. And now on that mountain I stood on that day, But the gods of the Pagan shall never profane AND WEPT. (Set to Music by J. NATHAN.) E sat down and wept by the waters When our foe, in the hue of his slaughters, And ye, oh her desolate daughters! Were scatter'd all weeping away. While sadly we gazed on the river Which roll'd on in freedom below, They demanded the song; but, oh never Ere it string our high harp for the foe! On the willow that harp is suspended, Oh Salem! its sound should be free ; And the hour when thy glories were ended But left me that token of thee: And ne'er shall its soft tones be blended With the voice of the spoiler by me! And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green, That host with their banners at sunset were seen : Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown, That host on the morrow lay wither'd and strown. For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, And breathed in the face of the foe as he pass'd: |