The mutes bowed reverent down before their lord;
The assembled satraps envied and adored;
Joy sparkled in the monarch's conscious eyes,
And his pleased pride already doomed the prize.
Silent they saw Zorobabel advance:
He to Apame turned his timid glance;
With downward eye he paused, a moment mute,
Then with light finger touched the softer lute.
Apame knew the Hebrew's grateful cause,
And bent her head, and sweetly smiled applause.
Why is the warrior's cheek so red?
Why downward droops his musing head?
Why that slow step, that faint advance,
That keen yet quick-retreating glance?
That crested head in war towered high;
No backward glance disgraced that eye,
No flushing fear that cheek o'erspread,
When stern he strode o'er heaps of dead.
Strange tumult now his bosom moves;
The warrior fears because he loves.
"Why does the youth delight to rove
Amid the dark and lonely grove?
Why in the throng where all are gay,
With absent eyes from gayety distraught,
Sits he alone in silent thought?
Silent he sits, for far away
His passioned soul delights to stray;
Recluse he roves, as if he fain would shun
All human-kind, because he loves but one.
"Yes, King of Persia! thou art blest;
But not because the sparkling bowl
To rapture elevates thy wakened soul;
But not because of power possessed;
Nor that the nations dread thy nod,
And princes reverence thee, their earthly god.
Even on a monarch's solitude
Will Care, dark visitant, intrude :
The bowl brief pleasure can bestow;
The purple cannot shield from woe:
But, King of Persia! thou art blest;
For Heaven, who raised thee thus the world above, Hath made thee happy in Apame's love.
"Oh! I have seen him fondly trace
The heavenly features of her face,
Rove o'er her form with eager eye,
And sigh and gaze, and gaze and sigh.
See! from his brow with mimic frown
Apame takes the sacred crown :
Those sparkling eyes, that radiant face,
Give to the diadem new grace;
And, subject to a Woman's laws,
Darius sees, and smiles applause."
He ceased, and silent still remained the throng, While rapt attention owned the power of song.
Then, loud as when the wintry whirlwinds blow From every voice the thundering plaudits flow; Darius smiled, Apame's sparkling eyes
Glanced on the king, and Woman won the prize.
Now silent sate the expectant crowd. Alone The victor Hebrew gazed not on the throne; With deeper hue his cheek distempered glows, With statelier stature loftier now he rose; Heavenward he gazed, regardless of the throng, And poured with awful voice sublimer song:
"Ancient of days! eternal Truth! one hymn, One holier strain, the bard shall raise to thee, Thee powerful, thee benevolent, thee just! Friend! Father! All in all! The Vine's rich blood, The Monarch's might, and Woman's conquering
These shall we praise alone? O ye who sit
Beneath your vine, and quaff at evening hour
The healthful bowl, remember Him whose dews,
Whose rains, whose sun, matured the growing fruit,
Creator and Preserver! Reverence Him,
O thou who from thy throne dispensest life
And death; for He hath delegated power,
And thou shalt one day at the throne of God
Render thy strict account. And ye who gaze
Enrapt on Beauty's fascinating form,
Gaze on with love; and, loving beauty, learn
To shun abhorrent all the mental eye
Beholds deformed and foul; for so shall Love
Climb to the Source of goodness. God of truth!
All-just! All-mighty! I should ill deserve.
Thy noblest gift, the gift divine of song,
If, so content with ear-deep melodies
To please all-profitless, I did not pour
Severer strains,
of Truth, eternal Truth,
Unchanging Justice, universal Love.
Such strains awake the soul to loftiest thoughts;
Such strains the blessed spirits of the good
Waft, grateful incense, to the halls of heaven."
The dying notes still murmured on the string, When from his throne arose the enraptured king. About to speak he stood, and waved his hand ; And all expectant sate the obedient band.
Then, just and generous, thus the monarch cries :
"Be thine, Zorobabel, the well-earned prize.
The purple robe of state thy form shall fold,
The beverage sparkle in thy cup of gold;
The golden couch, the car, and honored chain,
Requite the merits of thy favored strain ;
And, raised supreme the ennobled race among,
Be called my cousin for the victor song.
Nor these alone the victor song shall bless:
Ask what thou wilt, and what thou wilt possess."
"Fallen is Jerusalem!" the Hebrew cries, And patriot anguish fills his streaming eyes;
"Hurled to the earth by Rapine's vengeful rod, Polluted lies the temple of our God;
Far in a foreign land her sons remain,
Hear the keen taunt, and drag the galling chain ;
In fruitless woe they wear the weary years,
And steep the bread of bitterness in tears.
O monarch! greatest, mildest, best of men,
Restore us to those ruined walls again;
Allow us to rebuild that sacred dome,
To live in liberty, and die at home."
So spake Zorobabel. Thus Woman's praise Availed again Jerusalem to raise,
Called forth the sanction of the despot's nod,
And freed the nation best beloved of God.
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