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Behold the wedded virgin's charms
Snatch'd from her bleeding bridegroom's arms, Her fond name lisping with his last sad breath, And clasping in the pangs of death!
'See the sweet babe upon its murderer smile,
And stop his horrid rage awhile;
Then on the groundsel dash'd it dies,
Before its frantic mother's eyes.
In the dread silence of despair
The mother stands, as turn'd to stone;
Then looks to heaven a piercing prayer,
To call the' avenging thunder down,
And fainting, falling on the mangled clay,
Kisses the pale, cold lips, and sighs her soul away.
'House of my God! I see the' unpitying fire
High o'er thy venerable domes aspire;
Resistless rolls the flaming deluge on,
Totter thy cracking towers, and dash with clangour
Thy courts of peace are fill'd with loud alarms,
Dying shrieks, and clashing arms;
Thy sacred floors with slaughter'd prophets strew'd,
And e'en thy mercy-seat, that awful shrine
Of Majesty Divine,
With priestly gore imbrued.
Joy of the earth! where is thy beauty now? Where the proud grace that crown'd thy beamy And state imperial? sorrowing I behold
And dome on dome in wild confusion hurl'd,
Like the vast wreck and relics of a world.
O name for ever dear!
With sighs remember'd, uttered with a tear,
Fallen art thou, Salem! mingled with the dust!
Like some bright star thrown blazing from the skies,
One undistinguish'd heap thy grandeur lies,
Yet in ruin still august!
In palaces of mighty men
The lurking chical makes her secret den;
In the temple's hallow'd walks
The strutting ostrich stalks;
There gorged with blood the ravening vulture hies, There to her mate the screaming night-bird cries; The hissing serpent haunts the dread abode, Whose trembling walls revered the' indwelling God.
There the grim lions thirst for human gore; And heard at distance by the shuddering swain 'Cross the drear horrors of the desert plain, Amid the hollow howling ruins roar!'
Like statues fixed, in mute amazement stood, And anguish wrung the heart, and horror chill'd the blood.
Proud Salem bows-her conscious turrets quake;
The deep foundations of the temple shake;
Above their banks the' affrighted waters flow;
Blue flames athwart the flashing ether glow;
Hoarse peals in loud redoubled roll resound,
Roar the reechoing caverns-rocks the ground—
Nod the high mountain tops, and tremble all
MOSES VIEWING THE PROMISED
And Moses went up from the plains of Moab unto the mountains of Nebo, to the top of Pisgah, that is over against Jericho. And the Lord showed him all the land of Gilead, unto Dan, and all Naphtali, and the land of Ephraim and Manasseh, and all the land of Judah unto the utmost Sea; and the south, and the plain of the valley of Jericho, the city of Palm Trees unto Zoar. And the Lord said unto him, This is the land which I sware unto Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, saying, I will give it unto thy seed: I have caused thee to see it with thine eyes, but thou shalt not go over thither. DEUT. xxxiv. 1-4.
As some poor pilgrim, long condemned to roam, A pensive wanderer from his cheerful home, Pants to return the dear delights to hail,
Which breathe their influence o'er his native vale; If chance, at length, he scales some mountain's height,
And all his country swells upon the sight;
What sudden joy his languid eye inspires!
How his cold bosom burns with ancient fires !
So, warned by Him whose all commanding
Calls man to life, and marks his destined hour,
Long doomed to wander on the thirsty waste,
Long doomed to toil beneath the scorching blast,
To Pisgah's top the holy seer withdrew,
And Canaan's glories burst upon his view.
High on a mount he stood, whose awful brow
Frowned in dark pomp o'er Jordan's streams below;
This poem is atrtibuted to C. Grant, Esq. author of the prize poem on the Restoration of Learning in the East.
Whose far horizon marks the distant land,
Where western billows lash the Tyrian strand.
Through the wide realm, what scenes of wonder
What forms of beauty greet his ravish'd eyes! [rise,
Fair smile the valleys, fair the rivers flow,
And groves with brightest tints of beauty glow;
In gay luxuriance Spring's abundant train
And waving plenty clothe the fertile plain;
Rich o'er the meads unfolds the varying bloom,
Rich on the breezes floats a sweet perfume.
Nature with joy the broad expansion fills,
Crown'd with the riches of a thousand hills.
Thus while the prophet mark'd the bright do-
From his rapt bosom burst the' impassion'd strain—
'Is this the region? this the place of rest?
Hail, happy land, a land supremely bless'd!
Twice twenty times has Egypt learn'd to smile,
Enrich'd with plenty from the stores of Nile,
Since the proud main in billowy ramparts stood,
And crystal bulwarks stay'd the rolling flood.
Twice twenty summers have I toil'd to gain
This blissful prospect, nor have toil'd in vain.
Each morn renew'd the visionary theme,
And Canaan's glories rose in every dream.
Now send me, Heaven, the message of release,
My eyes behold them, and shall close in peace.
In safety here shall Israel's sons recline*,
Tend the rich flock, and prune the clustering vine;
His heavens shall shower their bounteous gifts
And golden harvests bless the verdant ground. Here blooms the land of Palm Trees +, grateful soil; There groaning presses flow with streams of oil; *Deut. xxxiii. 28. + Deut. xxxiv. 4.
Whilst flowery Carmel lifts his summits high,
And flings his store of fragrance to the sky.
Thy lofty cedars, Lebanon, proclaim *
The destined borders of Manasseh's name:
And Judah's race shall stretch their ample reign
From Jordan's margin to the western main.'
He spoke and paused: for now celestial light
Beam'd in full splendour on his mental sight;
Chased from his soul the mortal mists away,
And on his eyeballs poured a brighter ray;
New forms of vision o'er the scene expand,
And rites of blood pollute the smiling land.
From Arnon's streams to Rabbah's watery plain,
Extends dread Moloch's sanguinary reign.
Whilst idol shrines with frantic shrieks resound
Through Sidon's coast to Moab's utmost bound,
With eager haste the wild enthusiast roves
To weave the dance in consecrated groves;
Or in lone caverns, where, with orgies dire,
Insensate voices hail the mystic fire,
While cymbals loud assist the madding roar,
Bids the foul altars blush with human gore.
In vain the mother clasps her tender care,
And faints in all the agony of prayer;
In vain the infant, with imploring cries,
Intreats a milder doom: he bleeds, and dies.
Stern indignation fired the prophet's eye,
And his rent bosom heaved the labouring sigh.
6 Ah, fools! and blind in heart! can deeds of
Invite the smile or stay the bolts of God?
Say, shall the mutter'd spell, the midnight charm Unnerve the vigour of Jehovah's arm?