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Her mighty enemy at last

A shape of mockery was made:
Then miserably pleased,

Her fierce and ancient vengeance she appeased;

And even drew a sigh

Over the ruins vast

Of the deep-hated Latin majesty.

I will not call to mind the horrid sword

The fair neck of the Egyptian Queen around; And I the merciless poison made to flow

Into her breast of snow.

Ere that within the mined cave,

I forced dark Afric's valour stoop Confounded, and its dauntless spirit droop, When to the Carthaginian brave, With mine own hand, the hemlock draught I gave.

Upon the Memphian shore,

Steep'd treasonously in great Pompey's gore; Nor that for rigid Cato's death abhorr'd;

Nor that which in the hand of Brutus wore The first deep colouring of a Cæsar's blood. Nor will I honour thee with thy high mood Of wrath, that kingdoms doth exterminate; Incapable art thou of my great hate,

As my great glories. Therefore shall be thine Of my revenge a slighter sign;

Yet will I make its fearful sound

Hoarse and slow rebound,

Till seem the gentle pipings low

To equal the fierce trumpet's brazen glow."

Then sprang she on her flight,
Furious, and at her call,

Upon my cottage did the storms alight,
Did hurricanes and thunders fall.

"And Rome through me the ravenous flame

In the heart of her great rival, Carthage, cast, That went through Libya wandering, a scorn'd shade, Till, sunk to equal shame,

But I, with brow serene,
Beheld the angry hail
And lightning flashing pale,
Devour the promise green
Of my poor native vale.

THE MERRY HEART.

I WOULD not from the wise require
The lumber of their learned lore;
Nor would I from the rich desire
A single counter of their store.

For I have ease, and I have health,
And I have spirits, light as air;

And more than wisdom, more than wealth,-
A merry heart, that laughs at care.

At once, 't is true, two 'witching eyes
Surprised me in a luckless season,
Turn'd all my mirth to lonely sighs,
And quite subdued my better reason.
Yet 't was but love could make me grieve,
And love you know 's a reason fair,
And much improved, as I believe,
The merry heart, that laugh'd at care.

So now from idle wishes clear

I make the good I may not find;
Adown the stream I gently steer,
And shift my sail with every wind.
And half by nature, half by reason,
Can still with pliant heart prepare,
The mind, attuned to every season,
The merry heart, that laughs at care.
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But I, the while, the palace-courts around,
Hymning the mountain queen, Jove's virgin daughter,

When, all at once, the frantic cry of slaughter
All through the wide and startled city ran!
The shudd'ring infants on their mothers' breasts
Clung with their hands, and cower'd within their vests.
Forth stalk'd the mighty Mars, and the fell work
began,

The work of Pallas in her ire!

Then round each waning altar-fire,
Wild Slaughter, drunk with Phrygian blood,
And murtherous Desolation strew'd;
Where, on her couch of slumber laid,
Was wont to rest the tender maid,
To warrior Greece the crown of triumph gave,
The last full anguish to the Phrygian slave!

THE SLAVE SHIP.

[Founded on the following fact :-"The case of the Rodeur, mentioned by Lord Lansdowne. A dreadful ophthalmia prevailed among the slaves on board this ship, which was communicated to the crew, so that there was but a single man who could see to guide the vessel into port."-Quart. Rev. vol. 26, p. 71.]

OLD, sightless man, unwont art thou, As blind men use, at noon

To sit and sun thy tranquil brow, And hear the birds' sweet tune.

There's something heavy at thy heart,
Thou dost not join the pray'r;
Even at God's word thou 'lt writhe and start,
"Oh! man of God, beware!"

"If thou didst hear what I could say,

"Twould make thee doubt of grace, And drive me from God's house away, Lest I infect the place."

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Say on; there's nought of human sin, Christ's blood may not atone:"

"Thou canst not read what load's within This desperate heart."-" Say on."

"The skies were bright, the seas were calm,
We ran before the wind,
That, bending Afric's groves of palm,
Came fragrant from behind.

"And merry sang our crew, the cup Was gaily drawn and quaff'd, And when the hollow groan came up From the dark hold, we laugh'd.

"For deep below, and all secure,

Our living freight was laid, And long with ample gain, and sure, We had driven our awful trade.

"They lay, like bales, in stifling gloom,
Man, woman, nursling child,
As in some plague-struck city's tomb
The loathsotne dead are piled.

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I.

LOVE Thee!-oh, Thou, the world's eternal Sire!
Whose palace is the vast infinity,
Time, space, height, depth, oh God! are full of Thee,
And sun-eyed seraphs tremble and admire.
Love Thee!-but Thou art girt with vengeful fire,
And mountains quake, and banded nations flee,
And terror shakes the wide unfathom'd sea,
When the heavens rock with thy tempestuous ire.
Oh, Thou! too vast for thought to comprehend,
That wast ere time,-shalt be when time is o'er;
Ages and worlds begin-grow old-and end,
Systems and suns thy changeless throne before,
Commence and close their cycles :-lost, I bend
To earth my prostrate soul, and shudder and adore!

Hear, ye kings! give ear, ye princes!
I to Jehovah, I will lift the song,

I will sound the harp to Jehovah, God of Israel!
Jehovah! when thou wentest forth from Seir!
When thou marchedst through the fields of Edom!
Quaked the earth, and pour'd the heavens,

Yea, the clouds pour'd down with water:
Before Jehovah's face the mountains melted,
That Sinai before Jehovah's face,
The God of Israel.

The blind their eyes, that laugh with light, unclose;
And babes, unchid, Thy garment's hem caress.
-I see Thee, doom'd by bitterest pangs to die,
Up the sad hill, with willing footsteps, move,
With scourge, and taunt, and wanton agony,
While the cross nods, in hideous gloom, above,
Though all-even there-be radiant Deity!
-Speechless I gaze, and my whole soul is Love!

In the days of Shamgar, son of Anath,
In Jael's days, untrodden were the highways,
Through the winding by-path stole the traveller;
Upon the plains deserted lay the hamlets,
Even till that I, till Deborah arose,
Till I arose in Israel a mother.

They chose new gods:
War was in all their gates!
Was buckler seen, or lance,
'Mong forty thousand sons of Israel?

My soul is yours, ye chiefs of Israel!
And Iye, the self-devoted of the people,
Praise ye the Lord with me!

Ye that ride upon the snow-white asses;
Ye that sit to judge on rich divans

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II

Love Thee!-oh, clad in human lowliness,

-In whom each heart its mortal kindred knows-
Our flesh, our form, our tears, our pains, our woes,-Thou son of Abinoam!
A fellow-wanderer o'er earth's wilderness!
Love Thee! whose every word but breathes to bless!
Through Thee, from long-seal'd lips, glad language
flows;

Awake, Deborah! awake!

Awake, uplift the song!
Barak, awake! and lead your captives captive,

With him a valiant few went down against the mighty, With me Jehovah's people went down against the strong.

First Ephraim, from the Mount of Amalek,
And after thee, the bands of Benjamin!
From Machir came the rulers of the people,
From Zebulon those that bear the marshal's staff;
And Issachar's brave princes came with Deborah,
Issachar, the strength of Barak:
They burst into the valley on his footsteps.

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By Reuben's fountains there was deep debating-
Why sat'st thou idle, Reuben, 'mid thy herd-stalls?
Was it to hear the lowing of thy cattle?
By Reuben's fountains there was deep debating-

And Gilead linger'd on the shores of Jordan-
And Dan, why dwell'd he among his ships?-
And Asser dwell'd in his sea-shore havens,
And sate upon his rock precipitous.
But Zebulon was a death-defying people,
And Napthali from off the mountain heights.

Came the kings and fought,

Fought the kings of Canaan,

By Tannach, by Megiddo's waters,

For the golden booty that they won not.

From the heavens they fought 'gainst Sisera, In their courses fought the stars against him: The torrent Kishon swept them down,

That ancient river Kishon.

So trample thou, my soul, upon their might.

Then stamp'd the clattering hoofs of prancing horses At the flight, at the flight of the mighty.

Curse ye Meroz, saith the angel of the Lord, Curse, a twofold curse upon her dastard sons; For they came not to the succour of Jehovah, To the succour of Jehovah 'gainst the mighty.

Above all women blest be Jael,

Heber the Kenite's wife,

O'er all the women blest, that dwell in tents.

Water he ask'd-she gave him milk, The curded milk, in her costliest bowl.

Her left hand to the nail she set,

Her right hand to the workman's hammer-
Then Sisera she smote-she clave his head
She bruised-she pierced his temples.
At her feet he bow'd; he fell; he lay;
At her feet he bow'd; he fell;
Where he bow'd, there he fell dead.

From the window she look'd forth, she cried,
The mother of Sisera, through the lattice:
"Why is his chariot so long in coming?
Why tarry the wheels of his chariot?"
Her prudent women answer'd her-
Yea, she herself gave answer to herself-
"Have they not seized, not shared the spoil?
One damsel, or two damsels to each chief?
To Sisera a many-coloured robe,

A many-coloured robe, and richly broider'd,
Many-colour'd, and broider'd round the neck."

Thus perish all thine enemies, Jehovah;
And those who love thee, like the sun, shine forth,
The sun in all its glory.*

*In the above translation an attempt is made to preserve something like a rhythmical flow. It adheres to the original language, excepting where an occasional word is, but rarely,

inserted, for the sake of perspicuity.

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