The book of sacred song . l8z THE BOOK OF SACRED SONG. Lord ! Thou didst love Jerusalem, Once she was all Thy own;Her love Thy fairest heritage, ? Her power Thy glorys throne :Till evil came and blighted Thy long-loved olive-tree;And Salems shrines were lighted For other gods than Thee ! Then sunk the star of Solyma; Then passd her glorys day;Like heath that, in the wilderness, The wild wind whirls and waste her bowers, Where once the mighty trod,And sunk those guilty towers, While Baal reignd as God ! Go, said the Lord, €€ ye conquerors! Steep in her blood your swords,And rase to
The book of sacred song . l8z THE BOOK OF SACRED SONG. Lord ! Thou didst love Jerusalem, Once she was all Thy own;Her love Thy fairest heritage, ? Her power Thy glorys throne :Till evil came and blighted Thy long-loved olive-tree;And Salems shrines were lighted For other gods than Thee ! Then sunk the star of Solyma; Then passd her glorys day;Like heath that, in the wilderness, The wild wind whirls and waste her bowers, Where once the mighty trod,And sunk those guilty towers, While Baal reignd as God ! Go, said the Lord, €€ ye conquerors! Steep in her blood your swords,And rase to earth her battlements, For they are not the Lords !Till Sions mournful daughter Oer kindred bones shall tread,And Hinnoms vale of slaughter Shall hide but half her dead ! * modern: deceased writers. 183 EPHRAIM IS TURNED TO IDOLS; LET HIM ALONE \ }HEN Israel, of the Lord beloved, Out from the land of bondage came,iHer fathers God before her moved,An awful guide, in smoke and day, along the astonished lands The cloudy pillar glided slow;By night, Arabias crimsoned sandsReturned the fiery columns glow. Then rose the choral hymn of praise, And trump and timbrel answered keen;And Zions daughters pourd their lays, With priests and warriors voice portents now our foes amaze; Forsaken Israel wanders lone;Our fathers would not know Thy ways, And Thou hast left them to their own. Scott. the cities of the plain. HE wind blows chill across those gloomywaves,Oh! how unlike the green and dancingmain ! 184 THE BOOK OF SACRED SONG. The surge is foul, as if it rolPd oer graves ;—Stranger,—here lie the cities of the plain! Yes, on that plain, by wild waves coverd now,Rose palace once, and sparkling pinnacle. On pomp and spectacle beamd mornings gl
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, booksubjectenglishpoetry, booksubjectreligiousp
