 | The Two Brothers, and other poems |  |
It was the glow of eventide—behold
Upon his throne of ivory and gold,
Assyria's monarch proudly gazed around,
While prostrate kings before him kiss'd the ground.
When lo! a messenger in haste is brought,
His blanch'd cheeks with a tale of danger fraught:—
“This livelong day,” he falter'd, “there hath been
A prophet such as earth hath never seen,
From street to street who wanders sad and slow,
With one stern message of impending woe—
‘Ere forty suns have risen on Nineveh,
‘Her guilt and glory shall have ceased to be.’”
Upon his throne of ivory and gold,
Assyria's monarch proudly gazed around,
While prostrate kings before him kiss'd the ground.
When lo! a messenger in haste is brought,
His blanch'd cheeks with a tale of danger fraught:—
79
A prophet such as earth hath never seen,
From street to street who wanders sad and slow,
With one stern message of impending woe—
‘Ere forty suns have risen on Nineveh,
‘Her guilt and glory shall have ceased to be.’”
Straightway a smile of proud derision curl'd
The lip of that proud monarch of the world;
But, ere he spake, his courtiers crowded near,
And pour'd into his ear,
What busy fame had spread from lip to lip,—
The story of that tempest-shatter'd ship,
And that unheard-of miracle, that bore
The Prophet Jonah to his destined shore.
Long while he grappled with his fears, and then
Look'd round his court in marvel; and again
He gazed upon those floods of radiance bright
Which bathed his palace in their golden light,
And shed fresh lustre on the vivid story,
Which glow'd in sculpture, of his deeds of glory.
What storms could gather in these cloudless skies?
Who dared to call themselves his enemies?
He would have spoken; but again he hears
That death-knell in his ears—
“Ere forty suns have risen on Nineveh,
Her guilt and glory shall have ceased to be!”
And Conscience whisper'd, 'Tis Jehovah saith,
Till dread conviction ripen'd into faith.
He rose from off his kingly throne of state;
He laid aside his purple robe; he sate
In sackcloth and in ashes: his decree
Sped with wild speed through guilty Nineveh:
And all men trembled, and obey'd the word—
“Let neither man, nor cattle, flock, nor herd,
Or food or water taste by night or day;
But turn ye from the evil of your way,
And mightily implore the God of heaven,
If it may be our crimes can be forgiven.”
The lip of that proud monarch of the world;
But, ere he spake, his courtiers crowded near,
And pour'd into his ear,
What busy fame had spread from lip to lip,—
The story of that tempest-shatter'd ship,
And that unheard-of miracle, that bore
The Prophet Jonah to his destined shore.
Long while he grappled with his fears, and then
Look'd round his court in marvel; and again
He gazed upon those floods of radiance bright
Which bathed his palace in their golden light,
And shed fresh lustre on the vivid story,
Which glow'd in sculpture, of his deeds of glory.
What storms could gather in these cloudless skies?
Who dared to call themselves his enemies?
80
That death-knell in his ears—
“Ere forty suns have risen on Nineveh,
Her guilt and glory shall have ceased to be!”
And Conscience whisper'd, 'Tis Jehovah saith,
Till dread conviction ripen'd into faith.
He rose from off his kingly throne of state;
He laid aside his purple robe; he sate
In sackcloth and in ashes: his decree
Sped with wild speed through guilty Nineveh:
And all men trembled, and obey'd the word—
“Let neither man, nor cattle, flock, nor herd,
Or food or water taste by night or day;
But turn ye from the evil of your way,
And mightily implore the God of heaven,
If it may be our crimes can be forgiven.”
| The Two Brothers, and other poems | |