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The light within
Grows redder, broader. "Tis a fire that burns
To save or to destroy. On Sinai's top,
Oh Lord! thou didst appear in flames, the mountain
Burnt round about thee. Art thou here at length,
And must I close mine eyes, lest they be blinded
By the full conflagration of thy presence?



Oh! noble warrior,
I see not that thy sword is wet with blood:
And thou didst turn aside lest thou shouldst tread
Upon a dying man; and e'en but now,
When a bold ruffian almost seized on me,

Thou didst stand forth and scare him from his prey.
Hast thou no voice? perhaps thou art deaf too,
And I am pleading unto closed ears-

-Keep from me! stand aloof! I am infected.
Oh! if the devil, that haunts the souls of men,
They say, with lawless and forbidden thoughts,
If he possess thee, here I lift my voice-
By Jesus Christ of Nazareth, I adjure
The evil spirit to depart from thee.

Alas! I feel thy grasp upon mine arm,
And I must follow thee. Oh! thou hast surely
In thine own land, in thine own native home,
A wife, a child, a sister: think what 't were
To have a stranger's violent arms around her.
Ha! every where are more-and this man's hand
Did surely tremble; at the holy name
He seem'd to bow his head. I'll follow thee,
Let me but kiss the body of my sister,
My dead lost sister——

It is he-
Bless thee! and thou 'It spare me- The bloody Captain of the Rebels, Simon,
At least thou art less savage than the rest.
The Chief Assassin. Seize him, round his limbs
And He that had a virgin mother, He
Bind straight your heaviest chains. An unhoped pa-

Will surely listen to a virgin's prayer.

There's hope and strength within my soul; lead on, For Cæsar's high ovation. We'll not slay him,
I'll follow thee-Salone, oh that thou
Hadst room in thy cold marriage-bed for me!


Till we have made a show to the wives of Rome
Of the great Hebrew Chieftain.



Save, save the Temple! Placidus, Terentius,
Haste, bid the legions cease to slay; and quench
Yon ruining fire.

Who's this, that stands unmoved
'Mid slaughter, flame, and wreck, nor deigns to bow
Before the Conqueror of Jerusalem ?
What art thou?


Titus, dost thou think that Rome
Shall quench the fire that burns within yon Temple?
Ay, when your countless and victorious cohorts,
Ay, when your Cæsar's throne, your Capitol
Have fallen before it.


Madman, speak! what art thou?


The uncircumcised have known me heretofore,
And thou may'st know hereafter.



Knit them close, See that ye rivet well their galling links. (Holding up the chains.) And ye've no finer flax to gyve me with?


Burst these, and we will forge thee stronger then.


Fool, 't is not yet the hour.


Hark! hark! the shrieks Of those that perish in the flames. Too late I came to spare, it wraps the fabric round. Fate, Fate, I feel thou 'rt mightier than Cæsar, He cannot save what thou hast doom'd! Back, Romans, Withdraw your angry cohorts, and give place To the inevitable ruin. Destiny, It is thine own, and Cæsar yields it to thee. Lead off the prisoner.


Can it be? the fire
I'll not believe,

Destroys, the thunders cease.
And yet how dare I doubt ?
A moment, Romans.
Is 't then thy will, Almighty Lord of Israel,
That this thy Temple be a heap of ashes?
Is 't then thy will, that I, thy chosen Captain,
Put on the raiment of captivity?
By Abraham, our father! by the Twelve,
The Patriarch Sons of Jacob! by the Law,
In thunder spoken! by the untouch'd Ark!
By David, and the Anointed Race of Kings!
By great Elias, and the gifted Prophets!
I here, demand a sign!

"Tis there-I see it. The fire that rends the Veil!

We are then of thee Abandon'd- -not abandon'd of ourselves. Heap woes upon us, scatter us abroad, Earth's scorn and hissing; to the race of men A loathsome proverb; spurn'd by every foot, And cursed by every tongue; our heritage And birthright bondage; and our very brows Bearing, like Cain's, the outcast mark of hate: Israel will still be Israel, still will boast Her fallen Temple, her departed glory; And, wrapt in conscious righteousness, defy Earth's utmost hate, and answer scorn with scorn.

The Fountain of Siloe. MIRIAM, the SOLDIER.


Here, here—not here-oh! any where but here-
Not toward the fountain, not by this lone path.
If thou wilt bear me hence, I'll kiss thy feet,
I'll call down blessings, a lost virgin's blessings,
Upon thy head. Thou hast hurried me along,
Through darkling street, and over smoking ruin,
And yet there seem'd a soft solicitude,
And an officious kindness in thy violence-
But I've not heard thy voice.

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While the universal curse is pour'd around us
On every head, 't were cold and barren gratitude
To stifle in our hearts the holy gladness.

But, oh Jerusalem! thy rescued children
May not, retired within their secret joy,
Shut out the mournful sight of thy calamities.

Oh, beauty of earth's cities! throned queen
Of thy milk-flowing valleys! crown'd with glory!
The envy of the nations! now no more
A city-One by one thy palaces
Sink into ashes, and the uniform smoke
O'er half thy circuit hath brought back the night

Which the insulting flames had made give place
To their untimely terrible day. The flames
That in the Temple, their last proudest conquest,
Now gather all their might, and furiously,
Like revellers, hold there exulting triumph.
Round every pillar, over all the roof,
On the wide gorgeous front, the holy depth
Of the far sanctuary, every portico,
And every court, at once, concentrated,
As though to glorify and not destroy,
They burn, they blaze-

Look, Miriam, how it stands!


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The hundred-gated Cities then,
The Towers and Temples, named of men
Eternal, and the Thrones of Kings;
The gilded summer Palaces,
The courtly bowers of love and ease,
Where still the Bird of pleasure sings;
Ask ye the destiny of them?

Go gaze on fallen Jerusalem!

Yea, mightier names are in the fatal roll,

'Gainst earth and heaven God's standard is unfurl'd, The skies are shrivell'd like a burning scroll,

And the vast common doom ensepulchres the world.


Oh! who shall then survive?

Oh! who shall stand and live?

When all that hath been, is no more: When for the round earth hung in air, With all its constellations fair

In the sky's azure canopy;

When for the breathing Earth, and sparkling Sea,
Is but a fiery deluge without shore,
Heaving along the abyss profound and dark,
A fiery deluge, and without an Ark.

Lord of all power, when thou art there alone On thy eternal fiery-wheeled throne,

That in its high meridian noon

Needs not the perish'd sun nor moon: When thou art there in thy presiding state, Wide-sceptred Monarch o'er the realm of doom: When from the sea-depths, from earth's darkest womb,

The dead of all the ages round thee wait:
And when the tribes of wickedness are strewn

Like forest leaves in the autumn of thine ire: Faithful and True! thou still wilt save thine own! The Saints shall dwell within th' unharming fire, Each white robe spotless, blooming every palm. Even safe as we, by this still fountain's side, So shall the Church, thy bright and mystic Bride, Sit on the stormy gulf a halcyon bird of calm. Yes, 'mid yon angry and destroying signs, O'er us the rainbow of thy mercy shines, We hail, we bless the covenant of its beam, Almighty to avenge, Almightiest to redeem!

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pride" will occur to the memory at least of academic readers

Note 4.

Let this night

Our wide encircling walls complete their circuit. “The days shall come upon thee when thine enemies shall cast a trench about thee, and compass thee round, and keep thee in on every side." LUKE, Xix, 43. For the remarkable and perfect completion of this prophecy, see the description of the wall built by Titus. JOSEPHUS, lib. v, ch. 12.

Note 5.

I should give to the flame

Whate'er opposed the sovereign sway of Cæsar. Terentius, or Turnus Rufus, is marked with singular detestation in the Jewish traditions.

Note 6.

Sweet fountain, once again I visit thee!

The fountain of Siloe was just without the walls. The upper city, occupied by Simon (JOSEPHUS, v, 6.), ended nearly on a line with the fountain. Though, indeed, Simon had possession of parts also of the lower city. Joseghus, v, 1.

Note 7.

Let Gischala, let fallen Jotapata.

Gischala and Jotapata, towns before taken by the Romans.

Note 8.

Our bridal songs, etc.

It must be recollected, that the unmarried state was

looked on with peculiar horror by the Jewish maidens. By marriage there was a hope of becoming the mother

of the Messiah.

Note 9.
Did old Mathias hold.

Simon put to death Mathias the High Priest and his sons, by whom he had been admitted into the city.

Note 10.

Ye want not testimonies to your mildness.

Titus crucified round the city those who fled from the famine and cruelty of the leaders within.(JOSEPHUS, V, ch. 13.) Sometimes, according to JoSEPHUS, (lib. v, c. 11,) 500 in a day suffered.

Note 11.

Even on the hills where gleam your myriad spears. The camp of Titus comprehended a space called the "Assyrian's Camp."

Note 12.

A javelin to his pale and coward heart! Josephus gives more than one speech which he addressed to his countrymen. They only mocked and once wounded him.

Note 13.

Behold, oh Lord! the Heathen tread, etc. See Psalm lxxx, 7, etc.

Note 14.

Even in the garb and with the speech of worship, Went he not up into the very Temple?

This was the mode in which John surprised Eleazar, who before was in possession of the Temple.

Note 15.

There hath be held the palace of his lusts. Γυναικιζόμενοι δὲ τὰς ὄψεις, ἐφόνων ταῖς δεξιαῖς, θρυπτόμενοι δὲ τοῖς βαδίσμασιν, ἐξαπίνης ἐγίνοντο πολε pioraí.-JOSEPHUS, lib. iv, c. 9. There is a long passage to the same effect.

No. 16.

And where is now the wine for the bridegroom's rosy cup. In the prophecy of our Saviour concerning the destruction of Jerusalem and that of the world, it is said that " as in the days of Noe, they shall marry and be given in marriage."-MATTHEW, XXIV.

Note 17.

That when the signs are manifest.

The prodigies are related by Josephus in a magnificent page of historic description.

Note 18.

To the sound of timbrels sweet.

The bridal ceremonies are from Calmet, Harmer, and other illustrators of scripture. It is a singular tradition that the use of the crowns was discontinued, after the fall of Jerusalem. A few peculiarities are adopted from an account of a Maronite wedding in


Note 19.

The tender and the delicate of women.

"The tender and delicate woman among you, which would not adventure to set the sole of her foot upon the ground for delicateness and tenderness, her eye shall be evil toward the husband of her bosom, and toward her son and toward her daughter, and toward her young one that cometh out from between her feet, and toward her children which she shall bear; for she shall eat them for want of all things secretly in the siege and in the straitness, wherewith thine enemy shall distress thee in thy gates." (Deuter. xxvii, 56 and 57.) See also Lamentations, ii. 20. The account of the unnatural mother, is detailed in Josephus.

Note 20.

Break into joy, ye barren that ne'er bore!

"And woe unto them that are with child, and to them that give suck in those days.”—MATTHEW xxiv, 19.

Miscellaneous Poems.


Oft breathless list'ning heard, or seem'd to hear,
A voice of music melt upon her ear.


Slowly she waned, and cold and senseless grown,

RECITED IN THE THEATRE, OXFORD, IN THE YEAR Closed her dim eyes, herself benumb'd to stone.


Yet love in death a sickly strength supplied:
Once more she gazed, then feebly smiled and died‡

HEARD ye the arrow hurtle in the sky?
Heard ye the dragon monster's deathful cry?
In settled majesty of calm disdain,

Proud of his might, yet scornful of the slain,
The heav'nly Archer stands⭑-no human birth,
No perishable denizen of earth;

Youth blooms immortal in his beardless face,
A God in strength, with more than godlike grace;
All, all divine-no struggling muscle glows,
Through heaving vein no mantling life-blood flows,
But animate with deity alone,
In deathless glory lives the breathing stone.

Bright kindling with a conqueror's stern delight,
His keen eye tracks the arrow's fateful flight;
Burns his indignant cheek with vengeful fire,
And his lip quivers with insulting ire:
Firm fix'd his tread, yet light, as when on high
He walks th' impalpable and pathless sky:
The rich luxuriance of his hair, confined
In graceful ringlets, wantons on the wind,
That lifts in sport his mantle's drooping fold
Proud to display that form of faultless mould.

Abroad were sounds as of a storm gone past,
Or midnight on a dismal battle field;
Aye some drear trumpet spake its lonely blast,
Aye in deep distance sad artillery peal'd,
Booming their sullen thunders-then ensued
The majesty of silence-on her throne
Of plain or mountain, listening sate and lone
Each nation to those crowned Peers' decree;
And this wide world of restless beings rude

Lay mute and breathless as a summer sea.
To the Universal Judge, that conclave proud
Their diadem-starr'd foreheads lowly bow'd:
When, at some viewless summoner's stern call,
Uprose in place the Imperial Criminal.
In that wan face nor ancient majesty

Left wither'd splendour dim, nor old renown
Lofty disdain in that sad sunken eye;
No giant ruin even in wreck elate
Frowning dominion o'er imperious fate,

But one to native lowliness cast down.
A sullen, careless desperation gave

The hollow semblance of intrepid grief,
Not that heroic patience, nobly brave,

That even from misery wrings a proud relief;
Nor the dark pride of haughty spirits of ill,

That from the towering grandeur of their sin,
Wear on the brow triumphant gladness still,

Yet on that form in wild delirious trance
With more than rev'rence gazed the Maid of France,
Day after day the love-sick dreamer stood
With him alone, nor thought it solitude!
To cherish grief, her last, her dearest care,
Her one fond hope-to perish of despair.
Oft as the shifting light her sight beguiled,
Blushing she shrunk, and thought the marble smiled: And warrior glory in his sun-like course,
Fortune his slave, and Victory his mate.

Heedless of racking agony within;
Nor penitence was there, nor pale remorse,
Nor memory of his fall from kingly state,

Mighty Ephesian!t with an eagle's flight
Thy proud soul mounted through the fields of light,
View'd the bright conclave of Heaven's blest abode,
And the cold marble leapt to life a God:
Contagious awe through breathless myriads ran,
And nations bow'd before the work of man.
For mild he seem'd, as in Elysian bowers,
Wasting in careless ease the joyous hours;
Haughty, as bards have sung, with princely sway
Curbing the fierce flame-breathing steeds of day;
Beauteous as vision seen in dreamy sleep
By holy maid on Delphi's haunted steep,
'Mid the dim twilight of the laurel grove,
Too fair to worship, too divine to love.



I SLEEP, and as in solemn judgment court
Amid a tall imperial city sate,
The sceptred of the world: their legal port

Show'd lords of earth; and as on empires' fate
They communed, grave each brow, and front serene;
Holy and high their royalty of mien:
Seem'd nor pale passion, nor blind interest base
Within that kingly Sanhedrim had place.

*The Apollo is in the act of watching the arrow with which he slew the serpent Python.

† Agasias of Ephesus.

The foregoing fact is related in the work of M. Pinel sur l'Insanite.

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