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! The darkness of my father's soul? Thou knowest For thou wert born of woman! thou didst come And not by thunders strewed Nor indignation burnt before thee on thy way. 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; Nor stooped their lamps th' enthroned fires on high: A single silent star Came wandering from afar, Gliding unchecked and calm along the liquid sky; As at a kingly throne, To lay their gold and odours sweet The earth and ocean were not hushed to hear [along. 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, And when thou didst depart, no car of flame To bear thee hence in lambent radiance came; Nor visible Angels mourned with drooping plumes: Nor didst thou mount on high From fatal Calvary [tombs With all thine own redeemed outbursting from their For thou didst bear away from earth A little while the conscious earth did shake At that foul deed by her fierce children done; 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 And when thou didst arise, thou didst not stand Thy mother's coming feet, And bear the words of peace unto the faithful few. Into thy native skies; Thy human form dissolved on high FROM "THE MARTYR OF ANTIOCH." FABIUS. Cease, Calanthias, cease ; And thou, Charinus. Oh, my brethren, God That break upon the shore of this our world, Beloved brethren, And ye, our sisters, hold we all prepared, Lik him beside whose hallowed grave wc sand, To give the last and awful testimony To Christ our Lord. Yet tempt nct to our murder The yet unbloody hands of men. They come Pale lights are gleaning though the dusky night, And hurrying feet are trampling to and fro. By clear Orontes, where so oft we've met, Thou'lt find me still. God's blessing wait on all ! And yet she stands unblasted! In thy mercy That quivers on thy string. Ah, not on her, My pure and blameless child. Shine forth, shine forth 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 |