« PreviousContinue »
But he from whom nor pyramids nor sphynx
Can hide its secrecies, Belzoni came; From the tomb's mouth unlink'd the granite links,
Gave thee again to light, and life, and fame, And brought thee from the sands and deserts forth, To charm the pallid children of the north! Thou art in London, which, when thou wert new,
Was what Thebes is, a wilderness and waste, Where savage beasts more savage men pursue;
A scene by nature cursed, -by man disgraced. Now—'t is the world's metropolis !—The high Queen of arms, learning, arts, and luxury ! Here, where I hold my hand, 't is strange to think
What other hands, perchance, preceded mine; Others have also stood beside thy brink,
And vainly conn’d the moralizing line! Kings, sages, chiefs, that touch'd this stone, like me, Where are ye now ?—Where all must shortly be. All is mutation ;-he within this stone
Was once the greatest monarch of the hour. His bones are dust—his very name unknown!
Go, learn from him the vanity of power ; Seek not the frame's corruption to control, But build a lasting mansion for thy soul.
Which through dark alders winds its shaded way, My suppliant voice is heard ;-Ah! do not deem
That on vain toys I throw my hours away. In the recesses of the forest vale,
On the wild mountain, on the verdant sod, Where the fresh breezes of the morn prevail,
I wander lonely, communing witlu God.
When the faint sickness of a wounded heart
Which soothes the invokers of thy awful name. O all-pervading Spirit! sacred beam!
Parent of life and light! Eternal Power! Grant me through obvious clouds one transient gleam Of thy bright essence in my dying hour!
HYMN ON THE FALL OF JERUSALEM.
That secret coming of the Son of Man,
When that Great Husbandman shall wave his fan, Sweeping, like chaff, thy wealth and poinp away: Still to the noontide of that nightless day
Shalt thou thy wonted dissolute course maintain. Along the busy mart and crowded street, The buyer and the seller still shall meet,
And marriage feasts begin their jocund strain;
Eternal, and the thrones of kings,
Where still the bird of pleasure sings ;
Yea, mightier names are the fatal roll,
'Gainst earth and heaven God's standard is unfurl'd, The skies are shrivellid like a burning scroll, And the vast common doom ensepulchre's the
Oh! who shall stand and live ?
When for the round earth hung in air,
In the sky's azure canopy ;
Is but a fiery deluge without shore,
A fiery deluge, and without an ark.
That in its high meridian noon
Needs not the perish'd sun nor moon; When thou art there in thy presiding state,
Wide-sceptred Monarch o'er the realms of doom; When from the sea-depths, from earth's darkest
womb, The dead of all the ages round thee wait! And when the tribes of wickedness are strewn
Like forest-leaves in the autumn of thine ire ; Faithful and true! thou still wilt save thine own!
The saints shall dwell within the unharming fire, Each white robe spotless, blooming every palm.
Even safe as we, by this still fountain's side, So shall the church, thy bright and mystic bride, Sit on the stormy gulf, a halcyon bird of calm.
Yes, 'mid yon angry and destroying signs,
O'er us the rainbow of thy mercy shines, We hail, we bless the covenant of its beam, Almighty to avenge, Almighty to redeem!
A REFLECTION AT SEA.
Yon little billow heaves its breast,
And murmuring then subsides to rest.
Rises on Time's eventful sea;
No, the bugle sounds no more,
But you never may behold