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ON JORDAN'S BANKS.
ON Jordan's banks the Arabs' camels stray,
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!
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.
Though the virgins of Salem lament,
When this blood of thy giving hath gush'd,
OH! SNATCH'D AWAY IN BEAUTY'S
On! snatch'd away in beauty's bloom,
Their leaves, the earliest of the year;
And oft by yon blue gushing stream
Shall Sorrow lean her drooping head,
Fond wretch! as if her step disturb'd the dead!
Away! we know that tears are vain,
That Death nor heeds nor hears distress:
Will this unteach us to complain?
Or make one mourner weep the less?
And thou-who tell'st me to forget,
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 brain:
But bid the strain be wild and deep,
And ached in sleepless silence long;