Why art thou cast down, O my Soul, and why art

thou so disquieted within me

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POEMS.

ISRAEL.

Tandem surge pater, tecta Sionia
Jam lenis placido respice lumine;
Jam pleno redeunt tempora circulo,

Promissumque ferunt diem.

BUCHANAN.

WHEN from yon lofty peak, where olives wave

Their verdant boughs o'er many an ancient grave, The Hebrew glances on the scene below; 12

Well may he sigh, and well his tears may flow. Where, Salem! are the walls that erst withstood Rome's dreaded arms, as rocks the rushing flood? Where is the temple which in ancient days

So oft resounded with Jehovah's praise ?

Where are thy ramparts, where thy temple now?

Gone, like the leaflet from the naked bough,

B

When Winter's winds pervade the turbid air,
Curl the roused wave, and lay the forest bare;
Gone, like the purple from the western sky,
When the gay hours of day have glided by,
And, heralded by Evening's lonely star,

Stern Night advances in her sable car.
"His blood on us and on our children be !"

How soon were they, who thus exclaimed, to see
The horrid prayer fulfilled! how soon did foes,
Fierce as the billows which the tempest throws
Athwart the echoing shore, their walls surround,
And lay their city even with the ground!

Though for a while those mighty walls impede,
At length the efforts of the foe succeed;

The hostile fires with fearful speed extend,

Their loftiest buildings, wrapped in flame, descend;

Their blood in many a crimson torrent streams,

The scene on every side with carnage teems,

While o'er the prostrate fane the eagle standard gleams.

Still, since that bloody, that eventful day,
When Salem yielded to the Roman sway,
The hapless Hebrew has beheld the soil,
Where once his sires enjoyed Jehovah's smile,
And where their honored ashes still repose,

The home of Gentiles and the spoil of foes.
In vain does Rome's blaspheming chief employ
Means to defeat the counsels of the sky; 3
In vain the scattered nation he recalls,

And strives to raise yon city's prostrate walls.
Scarce have the builders to their task applied,
When, like the angry ocean's ruffled tide,
The earth in many a fearful opening rends,
And lurid flame from every gulph ascends.
The sight appals the boldest of the band,
The vain utensil drops from every hand;
Each, mute and pale with horror and surprise,
Gazes upon the scene, then trembling flies:
Thus the stunned hind beholds the lion's lair,

Thus flies the lone and gloomy thicket, where