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She's gone, who shar'd my diadem;
And I have earn'd those tortures well,
Which unconsum'd are still consuming!
ON THE DAY OF THE DESTRUCTION OF JERUSALEM BY TITUS.
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
Flash'd back on the last glance I gave to thy wall.
I look'd for thy temple, I look'd for my home,
On many an eve, the high spot whence I gaz'd
And now on that mountain I stood on that day,
But the gods of the Pagan shall never profane
BY THE RIVERS OF BABYLON WE SAT DOWN AND WEPT.
WE sat down and wept by the waters
And ye, O her desolate daughters!
While sadly we gazed on the river
On the willow that harp is suspended,
And ne'er shall its soft tones be blended
With the voice of the spoiler by me!
THE DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB.
THE Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green, That host with their banners at sunset were seen: Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown, That host on the morrow lay wither'd and strown.
For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, And breathed in the face of the foe as he pass'd; And the eyes of the sleepers wax'd deadly and chill, And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!
And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, But through it there roll'd not the breath of his pride: And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, And cold as the spray on the rock-beating surf.