« ElőzőTovább »
On many an eve, the high spot whence I gazed
And now on that mountain I stood on that day,
But the Gods of the Pagan shall never profane
BY THE RIVERS OF BABYLON WE SAT DOWN AND WEPT.
We sate down and wept by the waters
Of Babel, and thought of the day
Made Salem's high places his prey;
Were scattered all weeping away.
While sadly we gazed on the river
Which roll'd on in freedom below, They demanded the song; but, oh never
That triumph the stranger shall know! May this right hand be withered for ever,
Ere it string our high harp for the foe!
On the willow that harp is suspended,
And the hour when thy glories were ended
And ne'er shall its soft tones be blended With the voice of the spoiler by me!
THE DESTRUCTION OF SEMNACHERIB.
The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green,
For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,
And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide,
And there lay the rider distorted and pale,