 | Poems : medley and Palestina |  |
The City of Destruction.
Woe, woe to the city imperial,
The delicate city!
There cometh a shadow funereal,
A doom without pity.
The delicate city!
There cometh a shadow funereal,
A doom without pity.
Thy daughters walk pertly and haughtily;
They mince as in dances;
They bridle the neck; they turn naughtily
With wantoning glances.
They mince as in dances;
They bridle the neck; they turn naughtily
With wantoning glances.
Thine ancients are misers, usurious;
Thy judges are knavish;
Thine opulent ones are luxurious;
Thy mean ones are slavish.
Thy judges are knavish;
Thine opulent ones are luxurious;
Thy mean ones are slavish.
Thy magistrates creep in senility;
Thy prophets dissemble;
Thy counsellors babble sterility;
Thy men of war tremble.
Thy prophets dissemble;
Thy counsellors babble sterility;
Thy men of war tremble.
Thou wast altogether victorious
When God was thy pleasure;
Thy visage was shining and glorious,
Thy joy had no measure.
When God was thy pleasure;
Thy visage was shining and glorious,
Thy joy had no measure.
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But now art thou wayward, undutiful
To Him, thy salvation;
And so art thou blemished, unbeautiful,
A doom-stricken nation.
To Him, thy salvation;
And so art thou blemished, unbeautiful,
A doom-stricken nation.
Because thou hast borne thee exultingly
And trampled the lowly;
Because thou hast chattered insultingly
Of things that are holy;
And trampled the lowly;
Because thou hast chattered insultingly
Of things that are holy;
Because thou despiseth admonishment
And holdest to error;
Thy judgment shall be an astonishment,
Thy scourging a terror.
And holdest to error;
Thy judgment shall be an astonishment,
Thy scourging a terror.
| Poems : medley and Palestina | |