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How welcome those untrodden spheres !
It must be so: 'tis not for self
Yet cling to Being's severing link.
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
Its airy step and glorious eye
May glance in tameless transport by :
A step as fleet, an eye more bright,
The cedars wave on Lebanon,
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,
But we must wander witheringly,
And where our fathers' ashes be,
Our temple hath not left a stone,
OH! WEEP FOR THOSE.
OH! 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?
Tribes of the wandering foot and weary breast,
ON JORDAN'S BANKS
ON Jordan's banks the Arab's camels stray,
There where thy finger scorch'd the tablet
There where thy shadow to thy people shone!
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?
SINCE our Country, our God-Oh, my Sire! Demand that thy Daughter expire;
Since thy triumph was bought by thy vowStrike the bosom that's bared for thee now!
And the voice of my mourning is o'er,
And of this, oh, my Father! be sure—
And the last thought that soothes me below.1
Though the virgins of Salem lament,
When this blood of thy giving hath gush'd,
OH! SNATCH'D AWAY IN BEAUTY'S BLOOM.
OH! snatch'd away in beauty's bloom,
Their leaves, the earliest of the year;
And oft by yon blue gushing stream
Away! we know that tears are vain,
Or make one mourner weep the less?
MY SOUL IS DARK.
My soul is dark-Oh! quickly string
Its melting murmurs o'er mine ear.
That sound shall charm it forth again :
If in these eyes there lurk a tear,
'Twill flow, and cease to burn my brain.
But bid the strain be wild and deep,