For they who wrought our pains and wrongs, Ask'd us for Sion's pleasant Songs.
How shall we sing Jehovah's praise
To those who Bäal's altars raise?
How warble Judah's free-born hymns,
With Babel's fetters on our limbs ?
How chaunt thy lays, dear Father-land!
To strangers on a foreign strand?
Ah no! we'll bear grief's keenest sting,
But dare not Sion's Anthems sing.
Place us where Sharon's roses blow,
Place us where Siloe's waters flow;
Place us on Lebanon, that waves
It's Cedars o'er our Father's graves;
Place us upon that holy mount,
Where stands the Temple, gleams the fount;
Then love and joy shall loose our tongues
To warble Sion's pleasant Songs.
If I should e'er, Earth's brightest gem!
Forget thee, Oh Jerusalem!
May my right hand forget it's skill
To wake the slumbering Lyre at will:
If from my heart, e'en when most gay,
Thine image e'er should fade away,
May my tongue rest within my head,
Mute as the voices of the dead.
Remember, Oh! remember, Lord!
In that day Edom's sons abhorr'd;
When once again o'er Salem's towers,
The Sun of joy his radiance pours,
Forget not them, whose hateful cry
Rose loud and fiend-like to the sky:
"Be that unhallow'd City crush'd!
Raze, raze it even to the dust!"
Daughter of Babylon! the hour
Is coming, that shall bow thy power;
The Persian sword shall make thee groan,
The Mede shall fill Belshazzar's throne;
Blest shall he be who bids thee sip
cup thou held'st to Salem's lip;
And mocks thee, weeping o'er the stones
Red with thy children's mangled bones..
Like the young Spring-buds sweet and bright,
And like the lark, and like the light,
And like the wind, and like the wave,
E'en such is Hope :-buds find a grave,
The lark gives place unto the owl,
The light must yield to darkness foul,
The winds are fickle, waves betray,
And Hope is falser far than they.
And like the dew upon the thorn,
And like the blushful break of morn,
And like a vessel harbour'd well,
And like a song, and like a spell,
E'en such is man :-the dew exhales,
The Morning's past, the vessel sails,
The song is sweet, but swiftly flies,
The spell is broken,-Man he dies!
And like the azure skies of June,
And like the Sun, and like the Moon,
And like a bowl, and like a smile,
And like a taper's burning pile,
E'en such is Life :-the changed sky rains,
The Sun goes down, the pale Moon wanes,
The bowl is drain'd, that smile's the last,
The taper's spent, and Life is past!
MOUNT CARMEL.
A Dramatic Sketch from Scripture History.
PERSONS REPRESENTED.
The HIGH PRIEST OF BÄAL.
ELIJAH, the Prophet.
REUBEN, an Israelite.
MIRIAM, his Sister.
Attendants on Elijah, Priests, Crowd, &c.
SCENE, Mount Carmel. TIME, near Sunset.
Reub. Nay, Sister, do not doubt,
Our God will manifest his power, and shame
Yon bold idolaters.
For they are many, they are mighty, and
Reub. See, see, the High Priest doth approach the
High P. Where is thy God? What eye hath ever
Upon his face? What ear hath heard his voice?
If there be such an one, he loves to dwell
In darkness and obscurity; he fears
To meet the gaze of those who worship him,
And, in his proud invisibility,
Laughs at their lowly orisons. Not such
Bäal! the great, the bright, the wonderful!
See how he traverses the boundless Heaven,
The azure palace of his sovereignty;
Answering our prayers with treasures of rich light,
Bidding the world on which we dwell, bring forth
Herbs, fruits, and flowers, to gladden and support
His worshippers. From morn to eve, his eye,
With an untiring love, is fixed on us;
And when our feeble senses seek repose,
Then doth he kindly veil his burning beams,
And bid his silver regent bathe our lids
In a pure flood of milder, gentler light;
While sweet dreams glad our spirits, or deep sleep
Rocks them to rest unbroken.
Reuben, it is indeed a glorious orb!
How like a God he walks the fields of Heaven;
Brother, I fear that he whom we adore
Is not so great as he.
My God is every where! is seen and heard
In all created things! I see his power
And majesty in that resplendent orb,
The work of his own hand, which ye adore
In ignorance and sin; on which I gaze
With wonder and with humble thankfulness.
I see his wrath and terror in the blind,
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