WERE MY BOSOM AS FALSE AS THOU DEEM'ST IT TO BE. 1. WERE my bosom as false as thou deem'st it to be, The curse which, thou say'st, is the crime of my race. 2. If the bad never triumph, then God is with thee! Live on in thy faith, but in mine I will die. 3. I have lost for that faith more than thou canst bestow, As the God who permits thee to prosper doth know; In his band is my heart and my hope-and in thine The land and the life which for him I resign. HEROD'S LAMENT FOR MARIAMNE. 1. OH, Mariamne! now for thee The heart for which thou bled'st is bleeding; Revenge is lost in agony, And wild remorse to rage succeeding. Oh, Mariamne! where art thou? Thou canst not hear my bitter pleading: Ah, couldst thou-thou wouldst pardon now, Though Heaven were to my prayer unheeding. 2. And is she dead?-and did they dare The sword that smote her 's o'er me waving. But thou art cold, my murder'd love! And this dark heart is vainly craving For her who soars alone above, And leaves my soul unworthy saving. 3. She's gone, who shared my diadem; And I have earn'd those tortures well, Which unconsumed are still consuming! ON THE DAY OF THE DESTRUCTION OF JERUSALEM BY TITUS. 1. FROM 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. 2. I look'd for thy temple, I look'd for my home, vain. On 3. many an eve, the high spot whence I gazed Had reflected the last beam of day as it blazed; While I stood on the height, and beheld the decline Of the rays from the mountain that shone on thy shrine. 4. And now on that mountain I stood on that day, 5. But the Gods of the Pagan shall never profane The shrine where Jehovah disdain'd not to reign; And scatter'd and scorn'd as thy people may be, Our worship, oh Father! is only for thee. |