페이지 이미지
PDF
ePub
[merged small][merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors]

I 2

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,
In other lands to die;

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.

26

V.

OH! WEEP FOR THOSE.

H! weep for those that wept by Babel's stream,
Whose shrines are desolate, whose land a dream;

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?
And when shall Sion's songs again seem sweet?
And Judah's melody once more rejoice

The hearts that leap'd before its heavenly voice?

[merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][subsumed][ocr errors]

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,

Mankind their country-Israel but the grave!

VI.

ON JORDAN'S BANKS.

N Jordan's banks the Arab's camels stray, On Sion's hill the False One's votaries pray, 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!
There where thy shadow to thy people shone!
Thy glory shrouded in its garb of fire:
Thyself-none living see and not expire!

Oh! in the lightning let thy glance appear;
Sweep from his shiver'd hand the oppressor's spear:
How long by tyrants shall thy land be trod!
How long thy temple worshipless, Oh God!

VII.

JEPHTHA'S DAUGHTER.

INCE our Country, our God-Oh, my Sire!
Demand that thy Daughter expire;

Since thy triumph was bought by thy vow--
Strike the bosom that's bared for thee now!

And the voice of my mourning is o'er,
And the mountains behold me no more:
If the hand that I love lay me low,
There cannot be pain in the blow!

[ocr errors][merged small][merged small][subsumed][ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors]
« 이전계속 »