The tempest gathers all around, On Babylon it lies; Down with her! down-down to the ground, SECOND PROPHET. Down with her, Lord, to lick the dust, Ere yonder setting sun; Serve her as she has served the just! 'Tis fix'd-it shall be done. FIRST PRIEST. Recitative. No more! when slaves thus insolent presume, To yonder gloomy dungeon turn your eyes; See where he mourns his friends and children slain. More ponderous chains, and dungeons more confined. YES, my companions, Heaven's decrees are passed, And our fix'd empire shall for ever last; In vain the madd ning prophet threatens woe, Still shall our name and growing power be spread, And still our justice crush the traitor's head. Air. Coeval with man FIRST PROPHET. Recitative. "Tis thus that pride triumphant rears the head, Air. Ye wretches, who by fortune's hate In want and sorrow groan, Come, ponder his severer fate, And learn to bless your own. You vain, whom youth and pleasure guide, Like yours, his life began in pride, SECOND PROPHET. Behold his wretched corse with sorrow worn, His squalid limbs with ponderous fetters torn; Those eyeless orbs that shock with ghastly glare, ISRAELITISH WOMAN. Air. As panting flies the hunted hind, Thus we, O Lord, alike distressed, For streams of mercy long; Those streams which cheer the sore-oppressed, FIRST PROPHET. But whence that shout? Recitative. Good heavens! amazement all! See yonder tower just nodding to the fall: CHORUS OF CAPTIVES. Down with them, Lord, to lick the dust; Serve them as they have served the just, E FIRST PRIEST. Recitative. All, all is lost. The Syrian army fails, FIRST AND SECOND PRIESTS. Air. O happy, who in happy hour To God their praise bestow, SECOND PROPHET. Recitative. Now, now's our time! ye wretches bold and blind, Your wealth, your pride, your kingdom, are no more! Air. O Lucifer, thou son of morn, Heaven, men, and all, Now press thy fall, And sink thee lowest of the low. FIRST PROPHET. O Babylon, how art thou fallen! To wilds shall turn, Where toads shall pant and vultures prey. SECOND PROPHET. Recitative. Such be her fate! But hark! how from afar To chain the strong, and set the captive free. CHORUS OF YOUTHS. Rise to transports past expressing, CHORUS OF VIRGINS. Cyrus comes, the world redressing, SEMI-CHORUS. Hail to him with mercy reigning, LAST CHORUS. But chief to Thee, our God, defender, friend, O Thou, without beginning, without end, Let us, and all, begin and end in Thee. |