And red with blood the streams of Israel ran!
'Twas Murder's banquet on a thousand babes !-
Sweet flowers of life, whose fragile beauty made
The living Eden of parental hearts.
Asleep in cradled stillness, with the light
Of infant slumber on their lovely cheeks,
Or prattling gaily at the cottage door,
Did slaughter come, and mock with murd'rous yell
The cry of mothers, shrieking for their God!—
That cry was answer'd, when the monster king,
By pain corrupted, turn'd a loathsome mass,
And died!—then heralded by Gabriel's wings,
Redeemer into Naz'reth came :
young
For Archelaus o'er Judah's empire ruled,
And, Herod like, had bathed his throne in blood.
HAPPINESS SOUGHT IN VAIN AMONG THE
VOTARIES OF WEALTH AND FASHION.
FROM the proud senate, to a sunnier realm
Where Gaiety and her hilarious crew,
Like flowers of fancy in a hot-bed rear'd,
An artificial life enjoy, I turn'd.
In such a sphere could happiness abide ?—
Where Fashion, that great harlequin of life,
For ever plays the comedy of fools;
Where Luxury breathes a pamper'd air; where Love
Is venal; Wealth, a wearisome array;
And Time a curse; the happy do not dwell.
A false delight, a snatch of feverish joy,
And jading rounds of pleasure, are supplied;
But oft the heart beats echoless to all,
Though Custom wear a contradicting smile.
INCIDENT IN THE LIFE OF MILTON.
THERE is a tale-and let it live
Such life as fond romance can give,
That once, as slumb'ring Milton lay
In umbrage from the noon-warm day,
Beneath the twilight of a tree,
That arch'd its waving canopy,—
A maiden saw his sleeping face,
And, spell-bound with its beauteous grace,
Her wonder in sweet song express'd,
And placed it on the poet's breast ;—
"If eyes when shut the heart can take,
How bright their vict'ry when awake!"—
Oh! who can tell what beauty flow'd
From feelings by such words bestow'd;-
The Eve of his enchanted thought
From hues of nature's heaven was wrought,
And she of paradise the queen
Embodied what his soul had seen.
INJURY DONE TO RELIGION BY ITS
INSINCERE PROFESSORS.
'Tis not the vileness of hypocrisy
From which alone a hellish harvest springs;
But that contempt which on Religion frowns,
When hypocrites in unmask'd truth appear;
Then Vice is comforted, and lifts her voice
Triumphant; pleased to have a broken step,
However slipp'ry, where to stand and cry,
Thank God! my soul Religion never swell'd.-
How vain, how pitiably vile, is this!
As well might Painting and her fairy scenes
Be scouted, when a daubing mimic fails;
Or Music have her angel soul denied,
screech-owl apes a melody,
As true Religion have her Heaven disown'd;
Because a false professor fools the world.
INFLUENCE OF FEMALE BEAUTY ON THE BRAVE.
NEXT, Chivalry, heroic child,
With brow erect, and features wild,
Placed love upon his matchless throne,
For gallantry to guard alone.
Then, woman! in that reign of heart,
How peerless was thy magic part!
A word was more than human breath,
A smile dissolved the gloom of death;
And beauty, while it awed the brave;
But made the mind a noble slave
To honour, in the chastest light,
That ruled the soul, or charm'd the sight.--
And shall we, in a sterner age,
When love hath grown more coldly sage,
With frigid laugh and frown decry
The bright return of Chivalry ?–
The trumpet-music of the past,
In tales of glory doom'd to last,——
No longer must one echo stir
The pride of English character?
Alas! our life is worldly lore;
The reign of heart-romance is o'er;
And all that fired heroic toil
Hath now become a meaner spoil,
For time and circumstance to win,
While self is throned secure within.-
TERRIFIC bard! and mighty; in thy strain
A torrent of inspiring passion sounds;
Whether for cities by th' Almighty cursed,
Thy wail arose; or, on enormous crimes
That darken'd heav'n with supernat❜ral gloom,
Thy flash of indignation fell, alike
The feelings quiver when thy voice awakes!-
Borne in the whirlwind of a dreadful song,
The spirit travels round the destin'd globe,
While shadows, cast from solemn years to come,
Fall round us, and we feel a God is nigh!
But when a gladness from thy music flows, Creation brightens !-glory paints the sky, The Sun hath got an everlasting smile, And Earth is temper'd for immortal spring : The lion smoothes his ruffled mane, the lamb And wolf together feed, and by the den Of serpents, see! the rosy infant play.—
There is a day, the darkness of whose scene In visitings of dread can oft subdue
The brightness of the passing world,―to come,
When the huge fabric of a stately globe
Shall bow with terror in the storm of doom!
Then, in that hour of chaos, while the Earth
And Heaven shall fade like elemental dreams,
Alone, Isaiah !-standing on some rock
Tremendous, should thy daring voice be heard
In bursts of woe magnificently wild,—
The last that lingers round a dying world!
A CHILD beside a mother kneels,
With lips of holy love;
And fain would lisp the vow it feels
To them enthroned above.
That cherub gaze, that stainless brow
So exquisitely fair !—
Who would not be an infant now,
To breathe an infant's prayer?
No sin hath shaded its young heart,
The eye scarce knows a tear;
'Tis bright enough from earth to part,
And grace another sphere!
And I was once a happy thing,
Like that which now I see;
No may-bird on ecstatic wing,
More beautifully free.
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