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MILLMAN

FROM “THE FALL OF JERUSALEM."

Oh Thou ! thou who canst melt the heart of stone, And make the desert of the cruel breast A paradise of soft and gentle thoughts ! Ah! will it ever be, that thou wilt visit The darkness of my father's soul? Thou knowest In what strong bondage zeal and ancient faith, Passion and stubborn Custom, and fierce Pride, Hold the heart of man. Thou knowest, Merciful! That knowest all things, and dost ever turn Thine eye of pity on our guilty nature :

For thou wert born of woman! thou didst come
Oh Holiest! to this world of sin and gloom,
Not in thy dread omnipotent array ;

And not by thunders strewed

Was thy tempestuous road;
Nor indignation burnt before thee on thy way.

But thee, a soft and naked child,

Thy mother undefiled.
In the rude manger laid to rest

From off her virgin breast..

The heavens were not commanded to prepare
A gorgeous canopy of golden air ;

Came wandering from afar,
Gliding unchecked and calm along the liquid sky;

The Eastern sages leading on

As at a kingly throne,
To lay their gold and odours sweet

Before thy infant feet.

The earth and ocean were not hushed to hear
Bright harmony from every starry sphere ;
Nor at thy presence brake the voice of song

From all the cherub choirs,
And seraph's burning lyres,

salony, Poured through the host of heaven the charmed clouds

One angel troop the strain began,

Of all the race of man
By simple shepherds heard alone,

That soft Hosanna's tone.

And when thou didst depart, no car of flame
To bear thee hence in lambent radiance came;
Nor visible Angels mourned with drooping plumes :

From fatal Calvary

stombs With all thine own redeemed outbursting from their

For thou didst bear away from earth

But one of human birth,
The dying felon by thy side, to be

In paradise with thee.

Nor o'er thy cross the clouds of vengeance brake ;
A little while the conscious earth did shake
At that foul deed by her fierce children done ;

A few dim hours of day

The world in darkness lay; Then basked in bright repose beneath the cloudless sun,

While thou didst sleep beneath the tomb,

Consenting to thy doom ;
Ere yet the white robed Angel shone

Upon the sealed stone.

And when thou didst arise, thou didst not stand

Plaguing the guilty city's murtherous crew ;

But thou didst haste to meet

Thy mother's coming feet,
And bear the words of peace into the faithful few.

Then calmly, slowly didst thou rise

Into thy native skies ;
Thy human form dissolved on high

In its own radiancy.

371

FROM “THE MARTYK JF ANTIOCH."

FABIUS.

Cease, Calanthias, cease ;
And thou, Charinus. Oh, my brethren, God
Will summon those whom he hath chosen, to sit
In garments dyed with their own blood around
The Lamb in Heaven; but it becomes not man
To affect with haughty and aspiring violence
The loftiest thrones, ambitious for his own,
And not his Master's glory. Every star
Is not a sun, nor every Christian soul
Wrapt to a seraph. But for thee, Calanthias,
Thou know'st not whether even this night sha'.
The impatient vengeance of the Lord, or rest
Myriads of human years. For what are they,
What are our ages, but a few brief waves
From the vast ocean of eternity,
That break upon the shore of this our world,
And so ebb back into the immense profound,
Which He on high, even at one instant, sweeps
With his omniscient sight.

Beloved brethren,

Lik: him beside whose hallowed grave wc s*and,
To give the wast and awful testimony
To Christ our Lord. Yet tempt nct to our murder
The yet unbloody hands of men.

They come

And hurrying feet are trampling to and fro.
Disperse-disperse, my brethren, to your homes !-
Sweet Margarita, in the Hermitage
By clear Orontes, where so oft we've met,
'Thou’lt find me still. God's blessing wait on all!
Farewell! we meet, if not on earth, in heaven.

* * *

CALLIAS. and yet she stands unblasted! In thy mercy Thou dost remember all my faithful vows, Hyperion! and suspend the fiery shaft That quivers on thy string. Ah, not on her, This innocent, wreck thy fury! I will search, And thou wilt lend me light, although they shroud In deepest Orcus. I will pluck them forth, And set them up a mark for all thy wrath; Those that beguiled to this unholy madness My pure and blameless child. Shine forth, shine forth Apollo, and we'll have our full revenge.

| MAGARITA.

'Tis over now—and oh, I bless thee, Lord, For making me thus desolate below; For severing one by one the ties that bind me To this cold world, for whither can earth's outcasts Fly but to heaven?

Yet is no way but this, None but to steep my father's lingering days

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