"Go up, go up, thou blessed ghost, into the hands of God; Go, fear not lest revenge be lost, when Carpio's blood hath flowed; The steel that drank the blood of France, the arm thy foe that shielded, Still, father, thirsts that burning lance, and still thy son can wield it." Ex. XC.-THE LEPER. pass. WILLYS. "ROOM for the leper! room!" And as he came, Day was breaking When at the altar of the temple stood The holy priest of God. The incense-lamp The echoes of the melancholy strain Died in the distant aisles, and he rose up, Struggling with weakness, and bowed down his head Unto the sprinkled ashes, and put off His costly raiment for the leper's garb, And with the sackcloth round him, and his lip Hid in a loathsome covering, stood still, Waiting to hear his doom : "Depart! depart, O child Of Israel, from the temple of thy God, From all thou lov'st away thy feet must flee, That from thy plague his people may be free. "Depart! and come not near The busy mart, the crowded city, more; Voices that call thee in the way; and fly "Wet not thy burning lip In streams that to a human dwelling glide; Nor rest thee where the covert fountains hide, Nor kneel thee down to dip The water where the pilgrim bends to drink, By desert well, or river's grassy brink. 66 And pass not thou between The weary traveler and the cooling breeze, Nor milk the goat that browseth on the plain, "And now depart! and when Thy heart is heavy, and thine eyes are dim, Selected thee to feel his chastening rod- And he went forth-alone! not one of all Breaking within him now, to come and speak It was noon, And Helon knelt beside a stagnant pool In the lone wilderness, and bathed his brow, Hot with the burning leprosy, and touched The loathsome water to his fevered lips, Praying that he might be so blessed-to die! Footsteps approached, and, with no strength to flee, Crying, "Unclean! unclean!" and in the folds Nearer the stranger came, and bending o'er Love and awe His garb was simple, and his sandals worn; He looked on Helon earnestly awhile, As if his heart was moved; and, stooping down, And laid it on his brow, and said, "Be clean!" Ex. XCI.-SALATHIEL TO TITUS. CROLT. SON of Vespasian, I am at this hour a poor man, as I may in the next be an exile or a slave: I have ties to life as strong as ever were bound round the heart of man: I stand here a suppliant for the life of one whose loss would imbitter mine! Yet, not for wealth unlimited, for the safety of my family, for the life of the noble victim that is now standing at the place of torture, dare I abandon, dare I think the impious thought of abandoning the cause of the City of Holiness. Titus! in the name of that Being, to whom the wisdom of the earth is folly, I adjure you to beware. Jerusalem is sacred. Her crimes have often wrought her misery—often has she been trampled by the armies of the stranger. But she is still the City of the Omnipotent; and never was blow inflicted on her by man, that was not terribly repaid. : The Assyrian came, the mightiest power of the world: he plundered her temple, and led her people into captivity. How long was it before his empire was a dream, his dynasty extinguished in blood, and an enemy on his throne?—The Persian came from her protector, he turned into her oppressor; and his empire was swept away like the dust of the desert! The Syrian smote her: the smiter died in agonies of remorse; and where is his kingdom now?-The Egyptian smote her and who now sits on the throne of the Ptolemies? Pompey came: the invincible, the conqueror of a thousand cities, the light of Rome; the lord of Asia, riding on the very wings of victory. But he profaned her temple; and from that hour he went down-down, like a millstone plunged into the ocean! Blind counsel, rash ambition, womanish fears, were upon the great statesman and warrior of Rome. Where does he sleep? What sands were colored with his blood? The universal conqueror died a slave, by the hand of a slave! Crassus came at the head of the legions: he plundered the sacred vessels of the sanctuary. Vengeance followed him, and he was cursed by the curse of God. Where are the bones of the robber and his host? Go, tear them from the jaws of the lion and the wolf of Parthia,―their fitting tomb! You, too, son of Vespasian, may be commissioned for the punishment of a stiff-necked and rebellious people. You may scourge our naked vice by force of arms; and then you may return to your own land exulting in the conquest of the fiercest enemy of Rome. But shall you escape the common fate of the instrument of evil? Shall you see a peaceful old age? Shall a son of yours ever sit upon the throne? Shall not rather some monster of your blood efface the memory of your virtues, and make Rome, in bitterness of soul, curse the Flavian name?, Ex. XCII.-THE OCEAN. THERE is a pleasure in the pathless woods, By the deep sea, and music in its roar: BYRON. Roll on, thou deep and dark-blue ocean,-roll! He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, The armaments which thunderstrike the walls Of lord of thee, and arbiter of war,- Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee :- |