« 이전계속 »
And there the bittern in the sedge shall lurk,
Moaning with sullen strain :
Destruction ends her work.
From Judah's neck the galling yoke Spontaneous falls, she shines with wonted state; Thus by myself I swear, and what I swear is fate.
THE FALL OF ZION.
'It comes—it comes—the mighty day!
The mighty day of wrath and woe!
Yawns the gulf of hell below!
Low must lie thy haughty head.
• Dost thou, still blazing in imperial pride,
And mock the moaning orphan's tear ;
Or laugh at ease in Joy's luxuriant bower,
Or on the downy Tyrian bed,
Know, though thy daring thoughts despise
In plaintive notes, a prophet sung,
Starting, with a hasty hand,
Then, fill’d with all the God,
By the ecstatic power oppress’d; His fingers then with careless air he flings
Across the golden strings, And bids in varied mode the measures flow, Now rapid, loud, and wild, now solemn, soft, and • Hark! it is the clarion's sound! Float on the hollow gale the shrill alarms; The hills, the vales, the rocks rebellow round,
To arms! to arms! to arms! Loud and more loud the swelling clangors rise, Shake the wide earth, and thunder to the skies.
The nations tremble, as they hear ;
Every face is pale with fear; The mother starts, with boding thoughts distress’d, Yearns o'er her babe, and strains it to her breast.
" Where Babel, towering to imperial sway,
I see Heaven's Angel stand,
He waves his burning brand,
He mounts his scythed wain;
To feast on human food;
• See from the north a sudden brightness beam! O’er yonder hills the spreading lustres stream, Like meteors gleaming round the mountain brow,
Then flashing down the vale below. Now steeds and men I see, a shining train! And blazen chariots lightning o'er the plain, On moves the host, in firm and dread array, Their polish'd bucklers burn against the day, Ind round their helms the dazzling splendours
Amid their ranks hell's horrid forms appear, Frown in the front, and ravage in the rear. Behind like clouds the birds of ravine fly, Prescient of blood, and blacken all the sky. High waving o'er their heads Jehovah's sword
Of living flame, portending vengeance near, The' awaken’d vengeance of its injured Lord, Like a red comet kindles half the sphere.
« Zion! now for wrath prepare!
Depart (it cries), Depart!”
A solemn pause ensued ; Around in dread suspense bis audience stood; Till roused again with fresh prophetic fire, New strains of horror trembled on the lyre. 'Tis come—the mighty day! how awful lours
Its murky morn! the works of death begin! Without, the flame--without, the sword devours,
And famine wastes within.
Ah! what a groan was there, As bursting from the bosom of Despair ! See o'er her famish'd babe the mother hang! Maternal fondness adding edge to woe, Keen as her childbed's agonizing throe. But, oh! my chill'd blood shudders at the sightResistless hunger gives a fiercer pang. Mother, forbear!-Sun, hide thy trembling light! Blot out the deed accursed, Eternal Night!
• What new clangors strike my ear!
To Salem's broken walls !
Now with victorious powers They scale her conquer'd towers; The din of triumph rends the air ;
Shouts of triumph-woful cries
Echo to the midnight skies,
Rolling red with native blood;
With his slaughter'd children's gore !