Thy bridal veil is now thy shroud, my sister, There's some one comes- Hath cross'd me, and I've fled and 'scap'd him. Now, I'll speak to him,-there's something in his mien MIRIAM, the SOLDIER MIRIAM. Oh! noble warrior, I see not that thy sword is wet with blood: -Keep from me! stand aloof! I am infected. Alas! I feel thy grasp upon mine arm, He seem'd to bow his head. I'll follow thee, My dead lost sister The Front of the Temple. SIMON. They fight around the altar, and the dead Is howling with the strife of men, that fight not I only wait without-I take my stand Here in the vestibule-and though the thunders "T was but now I pass'd 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? TITUS, PLACIDUS, TERENTIUS, Soldiers, SIMON. TITUS. Save, save the Temple! Placidus, Terentius, Who's this, that stands unmoved SIMON. 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. TITUS. Madman, speak! what art thou? SIMON. The uncircumcised have known me heretofore, And thou may'st know hereafter. PLACIDUS. 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. And He that had a virgin mother, He 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. Can it be? the fire Destroys, the thunders cease. I'll not believe, 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. MIRIAM. Here, here-not here-oh! any where but here- My own beloved! I dare call thee mine, But, oh Jerusalem! thy rescued children Sink into ashes, and the uniform smoke O'er half thy circuit hath brought back the night The awe-struck shout of the unboasting conqueror. Hark-hark! It breaks-it severs-it is on the earth. The smother'd fires are quench'd in their own ruins: And it is now no more, Even so shall perish, HYMN. Even thus amid thy pride and luxury, Oh Earth! shall that last coming burst on thee, When that Great Husbandman shall wave his fan, Sweeping, like chaff, thy wealth and pomp away: Still to the noontide of that nightless day, Shalt thou thy wonted dissolute course maintain. And marriage feasts begin their jocund strain: And Heaven his presence own, all red with furnace heat. The hundred-gated Cities then, The courtly bowers of love and ease. Where still the Bird of pleasure sings; 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, In the sky's azure canopy; When for the breathing Earth, and sparkling Sea, Lord of all power, when thou art there alone Needs not the perish'd sun nor moon: The dead of all the ages round thee wait: Like forest leaves in the autumn of thine ire: NOTES. Note 1. Advance the eagles, Caius Placidus. Placidus, though not expressly mentioned as one of the Roman generals engaged, had a command previously in Syria. Note 2. A mount of snow fretted with golden pinnacles! Τοῖς γε μὴν εἰσαφικνουμένοις ξένοις, πόρρωθεν όμοιος ὄρει χιόνος πλήρει κατεφαίνετο, καὶ γαρ καθὰ μὴ κεχρυ σWTO λEUKÓTATOS v. JOSEPHUS, lib. v. c. 5. See the whole description. Note 3. Thy brethren of the Porch, imperial Titus. Mr. Reginald Heber's "Stoic tyrant's philosophic Note 13. Behold, oh Lord! the Heathen tread, etc. See Psalm 1xxx, 7, etc. Note 14. Even in the garb and with the speech of worship, 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 εγίνοντο πολε piorai. 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 Harmer. 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. xxviii, 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. THE BELVIDERE APOLLO: A PRIZE POEM, Oft breathless list'ning heard, or seem'd to hear, RECITED IN THE THEATRE, OXFORD, IN THE YEAR Closed her dim eyes, herself benumb'd to stone. MDCCCXII. 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, 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. 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. Yet on that form in wild delirious trance Her one fond hope-to perish of despair. Yet love in death a sickly strength supplied: JUDICIUM REGALE, AN ODE. I SLEEP, and as in solemn judgment court 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 Abroad were sounds as of a storm gone past, Of plain or mountain, listening sate and lone Lay mute and breathless as a summer sea. To the Universal Judge, that conclave proud Left wither'd splendour dim, nor old renown But one to native lowliness cast down. 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, Heedless of racking agony within; Nor penitence was there, nor pale remorse, Blushing she shrunk, and thought the marble smiled: And warrior glory in his sun-like course, *The Apollo is in the act of watching the arrow with which he slew the serpent Python. † Agasias of Ephesus. Fortune his slave, and Victory his mate. The foregoing fact is related in the work of M. Pinel sur l'Insanite. |