not desert him, he carried Sennacherib's letter into the temple, and spreading it before the altar, besought Jehovah to vindicate his own honour, by humbling the pride of him who thus dared to insult him. Hezekiah was not deceived in his expectations. The prophet Isaiah came to him with a declaration that Sen. nacherib should not be permitted, under any circumstances, to accomplish his threats; and the promise was strictly fulfilled on two separate occasions. In the first instance, Sennacherib, while employed in the siege of Libnah, was alarmed by a rumour that his own dominions had been invaded by a band of Cuthite Arabians, to oppose whose progress he found it necessary to march back with all haste; and though he overthrew them in a great battle, his second attempt upon Jerusalem proved equally abortive, and more disastrous in its issue. He arrived, indeed, in the vicinity of the city, took up his position with great parade, and once more defied, by his heralds, “the living God;" but that very night the blast of the Simoom* came upon his camp, and upwards of eighty thousand of his bravest soldiers perished. Sennacherib himself did not long survive this defeat. He fled in dismay to Nineveh, where he was soon afterward murdered in the temple of the god Nisroch, by two of his sons, who made their escape into Armenia, and left the succession open to Esar-haddon, their younger brother. Destruction of Sennacherib's Army.-BYRON. THE Assyrian came down', like the wolf on the fold', Like the leaves of the forest', when summer is green', For the Angel of Death'.. spread his wings on the blast *Then the angel of the LORD went forth, and smote, in the camp of the Assyr ians, a hundred and four score and five thousand: and when they arose early in the morning, behold, they were all dead corpses.-Isaiah. And there lay the steed', with his nostril all wide'; And there lay the rider', distorted and pale', With the dew on his brow', and the rust on his mail'; And the widows of Asher'.. are loud in their wail'; SECTION XI. Psalm 137. By the rivers of Babylon', there we sat down': yea', we wept when we remembered Zion'. We hanged our harps upon the willows in the midst thereof': for there', they that carried us away captive', demanded of us a song'; and they that wasted us', required of us mirth', saying', "Sing us one of the songs of Zion'." How shall we sing the Lord's song in a strange land"? If I forget thee', O Jerusalem', let my right hand forget her cunning'. If I do not remember thee', let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth', if I prefer not Jerusalem above my chief joy'. Version of the same.—BARLOW. ALONG the banks where Babel's current flows', While Zion's fall in sad remembrance rose', Her friends', her children', mingled with the dead'. The tuneless harp', that once with joy we strung', When praise employed', and mirth inspired', the lay', *Jê-ru'så'lêm. Kår'rent—not, curʼunt. Dě-spond ênse-not, dis pond'unse. In mournful silence on the willows hung', The barbarous tyrants', to increase the wo', With taunting smiles a song of Zion claim'; Bid sacred praise in streams melodious flow', While they blaspheme the great Jehovah's name'. But how', in heathen chains', and lands unknown', If e'er my memoryd lose thy lovely name', If my cold heart neglect my kindred race', Let dire destruction seize this guilty frame': My hand shall perish', and my voice shall cease' Yet shall the Lord', who hears when Zion calls', His arm avenge her desolated walls', And raise her children to eternal day'. Version of the same.—BYRON. We sat down and wept by the waters' And ye', oh', her desolate daughters'! Were scattered all weeping away'. While sadly we gazed on the river' On the willow that harp is suspended', Si'lênse. Så'lêm. cåre. Mêm'ür-rê. And the hour when thy glories were ended' And ne'era shall its soft tones be blended' SECTION XII. Cardinal Wolsey's Soliloquy on Ambition.-SHAKSPEARE. Of a rude stream that must forever hide me'. SECTION XIII. Cardinal Wolsey's Farewell Address to Cromwell. CROMWELL', I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries'; but thou hast forced me', Out of thy honest truth', to play the woman'. Let's dry our eyes': and', thus far', hear me', Cromwell': Nåre. Put-u in båll. A-gên'. Him-not, upon im. Length-not, lenth And',-when I am forgotten', as I shall be', And sleep in dull', cold marble', where no mention Love thyself last': cherish those hearts that hate thee', Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace', To silence envious tongues'. Be just', and fear not!! Let all the ends thou aim'st at', be thy country's', Thy God's', and truth's': then', if thou fallest', O, Cromwell' |