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"This world is all a fleeting show
'Twas past meridian, half past four . 113
Poor Orphan am I, scarcely turn’d of twelve years,
And Mary a begging must go :
On the rude billows toss'd 10 and fro-
And left her poor Mary behind;
To beg of the good and the kind.
As I lay down to slumber and weep,
While the winds kindly lull me to sleep:
Oli! had I but wealth, what a tomb would I rear,
To parenis so tender and good;
But my father lies deep in the flood.
FALIN IS THY THRONE!
AIR---Martini. Fall’n is thy throne, oh Israel !
Silence is o'er thy plains; 'Thy dwellings all lie desolate,
Thy children weep in chains.
On Elini's barren shore ?
Now lights thy path no more.
Once, she was all thy own; Her love thy fajrest heritage,
Her power thy glory's throne.
Thy long lov'd olive tree ;-
For other Gods than thee !
Then pass'd her glory's day, Like heath, that, in the wilderness,
The wild wind whirls away. Silent and waste her bowers,
Where once the mighty trod, And sunk those guilty towers,
Where Baal reign'd as God!