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THE HARP THE MONARCH MINSTREL
THE harp the monarch minstrel swept,
The King of men, the loved of Heaven, Which Music hallow'd while she wept
O'er tones her heart of hearts had given,
It soften'd men of iron mould,
gave them virtues not their own; No ear so dull, no soul so cold,
That felt not, fired not to the tone,
Till David's lyre grew mightier than his throne!
It told the triumphs of our King,
It wafted glory to our God;
It made our gladden'd valleys ring,
The cedars bow, the mountains nod;
Its sound aspired to Heaven and there abode!
Since then, though heard on earth no more,
Still bid the bursting spirit soar
To sounds that seem as from above,
In dreams that day's broad light can not remove.
IF THAT HIGH WORLD.
If that high world, which lies beyond
How sweet this very hour to die!
It must be so: 'tis not for self
That we so tremble on the brink; And striving to o'erleap the gulf,
Yet cling to Being's severing link. Oh! in that future let us think
To hold each heart the heart that shares, With them the immortal waters drink,
And soul in soul grow deathless theirs!
THE WILD GAZELLE.
THE wild gazelle on Judah's hills
And drink from all the living rills
That gush on holy ground;
Its airy step and glorious eye
May glance in tameless transport by :
A step as fleet, an eye more bright,
Hath Judah witness'd there;
And o'er her scenes of lost delight
Inhabitants more fair.
The cedars wave on Lebanon,
But Judah's statelier maids are gone!
More blest each palm that shades those plains Than Israel's scatter'd race;
For, taking root, it there remains
In solitary grace:
It cannot quit its place of birth,
It will not live in other earth.
But we must wander witheringly,
And where our fathers' ashes be,
Our own may never lie:
Our temple hath not left a stone, And Mockery sits on Salem's throne.