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A step as fleet, an eye more bright,
Hath Judah witness'd there;
And o'er her scenes of lost delight
The cedars wave on Lebanon,
But Judah's statelier maids are gone!
More blest each palm that shades those plains
For, taking root, it there remains
In solitary grace:
It cannot quit its place of birth,
But we must wander witheringly,
And where our fathers' ashes be,
Our temple hath not left a stone,
H! weep for those that wept by Babel's stream,
Weep for the harp of Judah's broken shell;
Mourn-where their God hath dwelt the Godless dwell!
And where shall Israel lave her bleeding feet?
The hearts that leap'd before its heavenly voice?
Tribes of the wandering foot and weary breast
How shall ye flee away and be at rest!
The wild-dove hath her nest, the fox his cave,
ON JORDAN'S BANKS.
N Jordan's banks the Arab's camels stray,
The Baal-adorer bows on Sinai's steep
Yet there even there-Oh God! thy thunders sleep:
There where thy finger scorch'd the tablet stone!
Oh! in the lightning let thy glance appear;
INCE our Country, our God-Oh, my Sire!
Since thy triumph was bought by thy vow—
And the voice of my mourning is o'er,