 | The conquest of Canäan |  |
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BOOK IX.
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Argument.
Evening. Interview between Selima and her parents. Morning. Distress of the Camp. Joshua directs Zimri to bury the dead. Funeral of Irad. Burial of the dead. Hareshab informs Joshua of a combination of the surrounding nations against Gibeon, and solicits his assistance. Story of Elam and Mina. Hareshab is directed to wait until the divine pleasure shall be known. Evening. Joshua walks out on the plain, northward of the camp, and hears Selima lamenting the death of Irad. Affected by the scene, he breaks out into a soliloquy on his distress, and is reproved by an angel, who delivers him a message from the Most High, and directs him to prepare for a vision of futurity.
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Now sober evening hung her curtains round,
And gloomy sadness brooded o'er the ground.
All pale, and solemn, rose the languid moon,
And shed a feeble twilight from her throne.
Sad in her tent, the feeling maiden sate,
Fed on her woes, and sigh'd her hapless fate.
Dissolv'd in tears, her tender parents came,
To share her grief, and stay life's parting flame.
Like dull, cold lights, that hover o'er the tomb,
A lone lamp languish'd round the silent room:
Beside her couch, two lorn attendants stay'd,
And drooping, lingering, eyed th' unconscious maid.
O'er the sad scene the pair attentive hung;
Then round the favourite form all-anxious clung:
Her tearless eye-balls scarce the virgin turn'd,
But, fix'd in blank despair, her slumbering Irad mourn'd.
And gloomy sadness brooded o'er the ground.
All pale, and solemn, rose the languid moon,
And shed a feeble twilight from her throne.
Sad in her tent, the feeling maiden sate,
Fed on her woes, and sigh'd her hapless fate.
Dissolv'd in tears, her tender parents came,
To share her grief, and stay life's parting flame.
Like dull, cold lights, that hover o'er the tomb,
A lone lamp languish'd round the silent room:
Beside her couch, two lorn attendants stay'd,
And drooping, lingering, eyed th' unconscious maid.
O'er the sad scene the pair attentive hung;
Then round the favourite form all-anxious clung:
Her tearless eye-balls scarce the virgin turn'd,
But, fix'd in blank despair, her slumbering Irad mourn'd.
Awake! oh wake! the tender mother cry'd—
My child! my darling! nature's loveliest pride!
Awake, and hear! oh hear thy mother's call!
Behold these tears for thee in anguish fall!
Ah see thy sire, with mighty woes oppress'd!
His sighs hard-bursting from his heaving breast!
Turn, turn thine eye! thy hapless parents save!
Nor speed our footsteps to the dreary grave!
My child! my darling! nature's loveliest pride!
Awake, and hear! oh hear thy mother's call!
Behold these tears for thee in anguish fall!
Ah see thy sire, with mighty woes oppress'd!
His sighs hard-bursting from his heaving breast!
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Nor speed our footsteps to the dreary grave!
She spoke. O'erwhelm'd in bitterness of fate,
Still the sweet maiden unregardful sate:
Fix'd on the parent, droop'd her failing eyes,
And deep, and heavy, heav'd her long-drawn sighs.
Again the mother, lost in sad amaze,
Cast on her woes a strong, expressive gaze,
And thus—O child of parents once too bless'd!
Let not such anguish tear thy bleeding breast.
Swell not, with other pangs, thy miseries dire,
A dying mother, and a widow'd fire:
The balm of patience summon to thy soul:
Let Heaven's high voice excessive grief controul.
He call'd, from earth's dark wild, the Youth away;
And call'd complacent, to the world of day.
To nobler scenes his mind seraphic flies,
To bliss, to Hezron, angels, and the skies.
Still the sweet maiden unregardful sate:
Fix'd on the parent, droop'd her failing eyes,
And deep, and heavy, heav'd her long-drawn sighs.
Again the mother, lost in sad amaze,
Cast on her woes a strong, expressive gaze,
And thus—O child of parents once too bless'd!
Let not such anguish tear thy bleeding breast.
Swell not, with other pangs, thy miseries dire,
A dying mother, and a widow'd fire:
The balm of patience summon to thy soul:
Let Heaven's high voice excessive grief controul.
He call'd, from earth's dark wild, the Youth away;
And call'd complacent, to the world of day.
To nobler scenes his mind seraphic flies,
To bliss, to Hezron, angels, and the skies.
Thus spoke the parent. Struggling rose the fair,
And look'd unmeasur'd woe, and blank despair:
Again she languish'd; to the couch she fell,
And life sad-lingering seem'd to bid farewell.
Pierc'd to the soul, the tender father stood,
And, lost in woes like her's, the darling view'd,
He saw the mild reproof her sense recall,
Her strength revive her tears in silence fall;
A beam of glimmering hope his grief allay'd,
And thus, with grave, but gentle voice, he said—
O child of love! sweet daughter of delight!
Let not that death-like gaze our souls affright.
Arise to thought! to sense, and reason, rise!
Nor dumb and marbled grieve against the Skies.
Such mighty woes no earthly loss requires;
Not Irad claims them, nor true love inspires.
All is not lost; thy parents still survive:
And for thy bliss, and in thy life, they live.
And look'd unmeasur'd woe, and blank despair:
Again she languish'd; to the couch she fell,
And life sad-lingering seem'd to bid farewell.
Pierc'd to the soul, the tender father stood,
And, lost in woes like her's, the darling view'd,
He saw the mild reproof her sense recall,
Her strength revive her tears in silence fall;
A beam of glimmering hope his grief allay'd,
And thus, with grave, but gentle voice, he said—
O child of love! sweet daughter of delight!
Let not that death-like gaze our souls affright.
Arise to thought! to sense, and reason, rise!
Nor dumb and marbled grieve against the Skies.
Such mighty woes no earthly loss requires;
Not Irad claims them, nor true love inspires.
All is not lost; thy parents still survive:
And for thy bliss, and in thy life, they live.
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He spoke. Again the virgin, whelm'd in woes,
With slow, and forceful effort feebly rose.
His voice rever'd arous'd her quickening soul,
Loos'd her sad tongue, and taught her tears to roll;
Pressing her mother's hand, with head reclin'd,
She thus disclos'd the anguish of her mind.
O best of parents, e'er to daughter given!
Lov'd, next to Irad! reverenc'd, next to Heaven!
Let not those frowns your hapless child destroy,
Bereft of every hope, and every joy!
What hand, what power, can Irad's breath restore?
Those eyes shall beam, that face shall smile, no more;
That voice ne'er warble music's sweetest sound;
And that pale form must moulder in the ground.
'Tis this, awakes the anguish of your mind;
But ye can weep, and weep to Heaven resign'd.
Not so your daughter: form'd of feebler frame,
Grief rends her soul, and damps the vital flame.
Yet even her heart but shares the common pain,
Partakes the tears of all, and breathes their sighs again.
For round all Israel cast attentive eyes,
And see for him the general anguish rise.
See his own son the childless fire forget;
The childless mother only weeps his fate:
His fate alone the virgin's shrieks proclaim;
And the poor, wailing infant lisps his name.
Even lifeless nature mourns him, wrapp'd in gloom,
O'ercast with woe and conscious of his tomb.
I saw the sun forlorn, and slow, retire;
I saw the silent evening sad expire;
In shades of double gloom ascend the night,
And the stars languish, with a mournful light.
How cold yon moon extends her widow'd beam!
Announcing death, and pale with sickening gleam!
How faint her feeble glimmerings spread the plain!
How still, and lonely, light the azore main!
With slow, and forceful effort feebly rose.
His voice rever'd arous'd her quickening soul,
Loos'd her sad tongue, and taught her tears to roll;
Pressing her mother's hand, with head reclin'd,
She thus disclos'd the anguish of her mind.
O best of parents, e'er to daughter given!
Lov'd, next to Irad! reverenc'd, next to Heaven!
Let not those frowns your hapless child destroy,
Bereft of every hope, and every joy!
What hand, what power, can Irad's breath restore?
Those eyes shall beam, that face shall smile, no more;
That voice ne'er warble music's sweetest sound;
And that pale form must moulder in the ground.
'Tis this, awakes the anguish of your mind;
But ye can weep, and weep to Heaven resign'd.
Not so your daughter: form'd of feebler frame,
Grief rends her soul, and damps the vital flame.
Yet even her heart but shares the common pain,
Partakes the tears of all, and breathes their sighs again.
For round all Israel cast attentive eyes,
And see for him the general anguish rise.
See his own son the childless fire forget;
The childless mother only weeps his fate:
His fate alone the virgin's shrieks proclaim;
And the poor, wailing infant lisps his name.
Even lifeless nature mourns him, wrapp'd in gloom,
O'ercast with woe and conscious of his tomb.
I saw the sun forlorn, and slow, retire;
I saw the silent evening sad expire;
In shades of double gloom ascend the night,
And the stars languish, with a mournful light.
How cold yon moon extends her widow'd beam!
Announcing death, and pale with sickening gleam!
How faint her feeble glimmerings spread the plain!
How still, and lonely, light the azore main!
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While thus impassion'd, lifeless nature all,
In speechless sorrow, mourns the hero's fall;
Shall I, belov'd, beyond all merit dear,
His best Selima, and his chosen fair,
Shall I, O sire! with common anguish weep?
And o'er his grave, with dull indifference, sleep?
Dumb fields, and senseless forests would reprove
Such base oblivion of so bright a love.
In speechless sorrow, mourns the hero's fall;
Shall I, belov'd, beyond all merit dear,
His best Selima, and his chosen fair,
Shall I, O sire! with common anguish weep?
And o'er his grave, with dull indifference, sleep?
Dumb fields, and senseless forests would reprove
Such base oblivion of so bright a love.
Pleas'd, the great sire beheld her thoughts return,
And heard her melting accents Irad mourn;
And thus—O brightest, loveliest of thy kind,
Grac'd with each charm, that robes the angel's mind,
More dear than ever child to sire was dear,
As virtue lovely, and as truth sincere!
Think not thy parents on their darling frown,
Or feel a thought less tender than thy own.
Like thine, our wishes the bless'd Youth approv'd;
Like thee, we chose him, and like thee, we lov'd.
But O all beauteous daughter! shall thy sire
Behold thee, whelm'd in boundless grief expire?
Or see thy life to hopeless anguish given?
Or hear thee murmur 'gainst a righteous Heaven?
Again to earth could thy fond Youth remove,
His heart would chide thee, and his voice reprove;
Bid thee, submissive, to thy Maker fall,
Embrace his hand, and wake at duty's call;
Bid thee to him thy patient thoughts resign,
And blame thy wanderings, with a love like mine.
From grief's excess, thy parent would restrain,
Assert Heaven's right, and fix the bounds of pain.
And heard her melting accents Irad mourn;
And thus—O brightest, loveliest of thy kind,
Grac'd with each charm, that robes the angel's mind,
More dear than ever child to sire was dear,
As virtue lovely, and as truth sincere!
Think not thy parents on their darling frown,
Or feel a thought less tender than thy own.
Like thine, our wishes the bless'd Youth approv'd;
Like thee, we chose him, and like thee, we lov'd.
But O all beauteous daughter! shall thy sire
Behold thee, whelm'd in boundless grief expire?
Or see thy life to hopeless anguish given?
Or hear thee murmur 'gainst a righteous Heaven?
Again to earth could thy fond Youth remove,
His heart would chide thee, and his voice reprove;
Bid thee, submissive, to thy Maker fall,
Embrace his hand, and wake at duty's call;
Bid thee to him thy patient thoughts resign,
And blame thy wanderings, with a love like mine.
From grief's excess, thy parent would restrain,
Assert Heaven's right, and fix the bounds of pain.
Ah sire rever'd! the pleading maid returns—
No common loss thy hapless daughter mourns.
Search the wide world. Can all her regions boast
One youth so fair, so bright, so early lost?
How Age admir'd him! how all Israel lov'd!
The world applauded! and the Heavens approv'd!
His form was all, the brightest thoughts can frame;
His mind was all, the fondest wish can claim;
Whate'er is great, or good, or soft, or fair,
Refin'd, or lovely, fix'd its mansion there.
Even he, whose hand the sacred sceptre bears,
Is but an Irad, of maturer years.
It is, O 'tis, as if, in yon fair clime,
Some prince of angels, bright in glory's prime,
Transcending every peer, in worth supreme,
Mitred with truth, and sunn'd with virtue's beam,
In youth's gay morn, in beauty's endless bloom,
And life, superior to the potent tomb,
Had clos'd his smiles, while Heaven refus'd to save,
And sunk his glories in the dreary grave.
What tears, for such a loss, would seraphs shed?
Tears, rich as theirs, should mourn their rival dead.
No common loss thy hapless daughter mourns.
Search the wide world. Can all her regions boast
One youth so fair, so bright, so early lost?
How Age admir'd him! how all Israel lov'd!
The world applauded! and the Heavens approv'd!
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His mind was all, the fondest wish can claim;
Whate'er is great, or good, or soft, or fair,
Refin'd, or lovely, fix'd its mansion there.
Even he, whose hand the sacred sceptre bears,
Is but an Irad, of maturer years.
It is, O 'tis, as if, in yon fair clime,
Some prince of angels, bright in glory's prime,
Transcending every peer, in worth supreme,
Mitred with truth, and sunn'd with virtue's beam,
In youth's gay morn, in beauty's endless bloom,
And life, superior to the potent tomb,
Had clos'd his smiles, while Heaven refus'd to save,
And sunk his glories in the dreary grave.
What tears, for such a loss, would seraphs shed?
Tears, rich as theirs, should mourn their rival dead.
And where, O where shall poor Selima find
One beam of light to cheer her drooping mind?
All sad, I wander round the earth, and skies;
But no soft solace meets my failing eyes.
To friends I fly: those weeping friends I see
Sunk in the deep despair, that buries me.
For him, O kindest, tenderest mother! rise
Thy heart-felt anguish, and thy hopeless sighs.
Thy tears, all-gentle sire! resistless shed,
Approve my grief, and weep the hero dead.
No cheering hope your fondest love can give,
Sooth your sad child, or make her Irad live.
Then bid me mourn; this last relief bestow,
And yield my bosom to the peace of woe.
One beam of light to cheer her drooping mind?
All sad, I wander round the earth, and skies;
But no soft solace meets my failing eyes.
To friends I fly: those weeping friends I see
Sunk in the deep despair, that buries me.
For him, O kindest, tenderest mother! rise
Thy heart-felt anguish, and thy hopeless sighs.
Thy tears, all-gentle sire! resistless shed,
Approve my grief, and weep the hero dead.
No cheering hope your fondest love can give,
Sooth your sad child, or make her Irad live.
Then bid me mourn; this last relief bestow,
And yield my bosom to the peace of woe.
Oppress'd with grief, the feeling sire rejoin'd—
Sweet, lovely charmer of thy father's mind!
From earth, from friends, thy hope can never flow;
Too poor, to yield the balm of real woe.
When real ills invade; when Want annoys;
When hissing Shame, with lingering death destroys;
When pain torments, or sickness wastes our bloom;
Or friends too dear desert us, for the tomb:
This barren world no solace can supply:
But all earth's portion is to weep, and die.
Yet there are springs whence hope and comfort rise,
Springs of pure life, and flowing from the skies:
Thence gentle Mercy sends her treasures down;
And bright Religion makes the bliss her own.
To famish'd Want she spreads a boundless store,
With that unbless'd, the heir of worlds is poor:
Repentant Shame she bids to crowns aspire,
Grace ever new, and glory ever higher:
On earth, in heaven, her wealth and honours rise,
Ennoble angels, and enrich the skies.
Decay and Pain to cheerful peace she leads,
With patience arms them, and with comfort feeds;
And points the realms, where Health and Beauty bloom,
And Life, with smiles of triumph, braves the tomb.
When Friends, if Virtue's friends from earth retire,
And waste the bosom, with corroding fire;
She sees those friends again immortal live,
Rise from the grave, and dying worlds survive,
To each the form, the mind, of angels given,
Fair sons of light, and habitants of heaven.
She too, and she alone, a Friend secures,
That through all times, and in all scenes, endures
At hand, to hear, to love, to bless, to save,
In life, and death, and worlds beyond the grave;
As heaven o'er earth sublime, all friends above,
In power in wisdom, truth, and boundless love.
Sweet, lovely charmer of thy father's mind!
From earth, from friends, thy hope can never flow;
Too poor, to yield the balm of real woe.
When real ills invade; when Want annoys;
When hissing Shame, with lingering death destroys;
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Or friends too dear desert us, for the tomb:
This barren world no solace can supply:
But all earth's portion is to weep, and die.
Yet there are springs whence hope and comfort rise,
Springs of pure life, and flowing from the skies:
Thence gentle Mercy sends her treasures down;
And bright Religion makes the bliss her own.
To famish'd Want she spreads a boundless store,
With that unbless'd, the heir of worlds is poor:
Repentant Shame she bids to crowns aspire,
Grace ever new, and glory ever higher:
On earth, in heaven, her wealth and honours rise,
Ennoble angels, and enrich the skies.
Decay and Pain to cheerful peace she leads,
With patience arms them, and with comfort feeds;
And points the realms, where Health and Beauty bloom,
And Life, with smiles of triumph, braves the tomb.
When Friends, if Virtue's friends from earth retire,
And waste the bosom, with corroding fire;
She sees those friends again immortal live,
Rise from the grave, and dying worlds survive,
To each the form, the mind, of angels given,
Fair sons of light, and habitants of heaven.
She too, and she alone, a Friend secures,
That through all times, and in all scenes, endures
At hand, to hear, to love, to bless, to save,
In life, and death, and worlds beyond the grave;
As heaven o'er earth sublime, all friends above,
In power in wisdom, truth, and boundless love.
In grief, even vast as thine, her hand can heal,
And teach the heart its anguish not to feel.
Bright from the tomb, she sees thine Irad rise
To peace, and life, and glory in the skies;
One little moment separate from thy arms;
Again to meet thee, with superior charms;
To hail thy rising soul, from realms above;
To smile as angels, and as Heaven to love.
And teach the heart its anguish not to feel.
Bright from the tomb, she sees thine Irad rise
To peace, and life, and glory in the skies;
One little moment separate from thy arms;
Again to meet thee, with superior charms;
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To smile as angels, and as Heaven to love.
Then, O thou child of truth! to her controul
Resign the tumults of thy troubled soul.
She on thy wounds shall shed her healing power,
Thy faith revive, thy wonted peace restore;
With softest music charm the passing day;
Bid Heavenly visions o'er thee nightly play;
The tents of angels round thy curtains spread:
Invite the guardian cherub to thy bed;
Calm, with sweet slumbers, every stormy care,
And dry, with downy hand, the plaintive tear.
She too shall life's rough path with flowers adorn;
With spring's mild splendor, cheer the wintry morn;
Thy yielding feet, in strong temptations save;
Welcome grim death, and triumph o'er the grave?
To brighter scenes, in happier regions, fly,
And lift to thrones of glory, in the sky.
Resign the tumults of thy troubled soul.
She on thy wounds shall shed her healing power,
Thy faith revive, thy wonted peace restore;
With softest music charm the passing day;
Bid Heavenly visions o'er thee nightly play;
The tents of angels round thy curtains spread:
Invite the guardian cherub to thy bed;
Calm, with sweet slumbers, every stormy care,
And dry, with downy hand, the plaintive tear.
She too shall life's rough path with flowers adorn;
With spring's mild splendor, cheer the wintry morn;
Thy yielding feet, in strong temptations save;
Welcome grim death, and triumph o'er the grave?
To brighter scenes, in happier regions, fly,
And lift to thrones of glory, in the sky.
The parent spoke. The hapless maiden sate
Forlorn, and sad, bewailing Irad's fate.
Silenc'd, but not reliev'd, her drooping mind
Fail'd not to sigh, nor yet to Heaven resign'd:
At length with vast, and heavy woes oppress'd,
She sunk in slumbers of tumultuous rest.
Forlorn, and sad, bewailing Irad's fate.
Silenc'd, but not reliev'd, her drooping mind
Fail'd not to sigh, nor yet to Heaven resign'd:
At length with vast, and heavy woes oppress'd,
She sunk in slumbers of tumultuous rest.
Mild rose the morn; and, round the tented plain
The cries of thousands mourn'd their kindred slain.
In silent woe the hoary parent stood,
And wail'd his hopes, all sunk in fields of blood;
His sons, sweet charm of nature's evil day,
Fair light of age, and life's most pleasing stay,
Now left him helpless, and alone, to find
Some foreign aid to sooth a drooping mind.
Strong pangs of sorrow fix'd his speaking eye,
And his rack'd heart heav'd deep the heavy sigh.
The pale, sad widow cast a tender view
On her sweet race, and shed the plaintive dew.
Touch'd with her woes, the beauteous orphans mourn'd,
And artless tears their infant cheeks adorn'd.
The bride deplor'd a young, fond husband's doom,
Snatch'd from her arms, and banish'd to the tomb;
Her joys all ended in one dreadful day;
Her brightest hopes forever swept away;
No prospect left her, but long years of woe;
No wish, but ransom from these realms below.
The cries of thousands mourn'd their kindred slain.
In silent woe the hoary parent stood,
And wail'd his hopes, all sunk in fields of blood;
His sons, sweet charm of nature's evil day,
Fair light of age, and life's most pleasing stay,
Now left him helpless, and alone, to find
Some foreign aid to sooth a drooping mind.
Strong pangs of sorrow fix'd his speaking eye,
And his rack'd heart heav'd deep the heavy sigh.
The pale, sad widow cast a tender view
On her sweet race, and shed the plaintive dew.
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And artless tears their infant cheeks adorn'd.
The bride deplor'd a young, fond husband's doom,
Snatch'd from her arms, and banish'd to the tomb;
Her joys all ended in one dreadful day;
Her brightest hopes forever swept away;
No prospect left her, but long years of woe;
No wish, but ransom from these realms below.
These scenes, with anguish, pierc'd the Leader's breast,
Blank'd his fair prospects, and his soul depress'd.
Yet still, before the host, a cheerful grace,
With blameless art, array'd his tranquil face.
In all their pains, to him they cast their eyes;
Like a fond sire, he heard their plaintive cries:
From his calm brow they caught the placid smile,
Forgot their miseries, and despis'd their toil.
Blank'd his fair prospects, and his soul depress'd.
Yet still, before the host, a cheerful grace,
With blameless art, array'd his tranquil face.
In all their pains, to him they cast their eyes;
Like a fond sire, he heard their plaintive cries:
From his calm brow they caught the placid smile,
Forgot their miseries, and despis'd their toil.
Now in the silence of his tent, alone
He mourn'd their fears, and made their grief his own,
When Zimri came, with anxious care oppress'd,
And Joshua thus his faithful friend address'd.
He mourn'd their fears, and made their grief his own,
When Zimri came, with anxious care oppress'd,
And Joshua thus his faithful friend address'd.
Hear'st thou what sorrows fill the murmuring air?
The warriors' groans? and terrors of the fair?
What tears of anguish every face bedew!
What throngs of orphans crowd upon the view!
Oh heavy, heavy pangs Jehovah's hand
On this sad heart, and on his chosen band!
Ah, where is Hezron? chief of spotless name!
His life so virtuous! and so pure his fame!
How soon, O pride of nature, art thou fled
To the dark, lonely mansions of the dead!
How soon to thy compeers, thine angels, given,
All-beauteous Irad! fairest plant of heaven!
But still superior grace may point a way,
Through the long darkness to the promis'd day.
The warriors' groans? and terrors of the fair?
What tears of anguish every face bedew!
What throngs of orphans crowd upon the view!
Oh heavy, heavy pangs Jehovah's hand
On this sad heart, and on his chosen band!
Ah, where is Hezron? chief of spotless name!
His life so virtuous! and so pure his fame!
How soon, O pride of nature, art thou fled
To the dark, lonely mansions of the dead!
How soon to thy compeers, thine angels, given,
All-beauteous Irad! fairest plant of heaven!
But still superior grace may point a way,
Through the long darkness to the promis'd day.
These mournful thoughts with prudent care conceal;
Nor let thy guarded brow a pain reveal.
Thy face they watch, the motions of thine eye,
Know all thy fears, and number every sigh.
When leaders smile, their looks the host inspire;
Are leaders brave? the vulgar catch the fire;
With us they faint, they tremble, and they grieve;
With us they joy, they dare, they die, they live.
Nor let thy guarded brow a pain reveal.
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Know all thy fears, and number every sigh.
When leaders smile, their looks the host inspire;
Are leaders brave? the vulgar catch the fire;
With us they faint, they tremble, and they grieve;
With us they joy, they dare, they die, they live.
But now more solemn scenes thy care demand;
Choose twice ten thousand of the warrior band;
To yonder hapless field thy footsteps speed,
And pay the last, sad honours to the dead.
In one broad pit, our slaughter'd friends entomb;
Nor grudge our foes the same unenvied doom:
Let men, let brave men, ne'er refuse the brave
The humble blessing of a peaceful grave.
Choose twice ten thousand of the warrior band;
To yonder hapless field thy footsteps speed,
And pay the last, sad honours to the dead.
In one broad pit, our slaughter'd friends entomb;
Nor grudge our foes the same unenvied doom:
Let men, let brave men, ne'er refuse the brave
The humble blessing of a peaceful grave.
I go, the darling hero's fate to close,
And bid the matchless Youth a sweet repose:
'Tis all we can, the friendly tear to shed,
And raise the light tomb o'er his lovely head.
And bid the matchless Youth a sweet repose:
'Tis all we can, the friendly tear to shed,
And raise the light tomb o'er his lovely head.
With soft affections, thus the mighty Chief;
And Zimri slow retir'd, with answering grief.
Meantime, grave warriors, in black robes array'd,
And many a youth, and many a lovely maid,
Along the northern green, the Chief pursued;
Flowers grac'd their hands, and tears their cheeks bedew'd
For now brave Irad clos'd his final doom,
Borne to his darksome, everlasting home.
And Zimri slow retir'd, with answering grief.
Meantime, grave warriors, in black robes array'd,
And many a youth, and many a lovely maid,
Along the northern green, the Chief pursued;
Flowers grac'd their hands, and tears their cheeks bedew'd
For now brave Irad clos'd his final doom,
Borne to his darksome, everlasting home.
Behind the bier, that slow, and solemn mov'd,
Pensive Selima follow'd him she lov'd;
On the sad coffin fix'd a stedfast eye;
Nor dropp'd a tear, nor breath'd a tender sigh.
Her dark-brown hair a wreath of roses crown'd;
Her robes of sable flow'd along the ground:
A flower, just opening to the morning dew,
Blush'd in her hand, and brighten'd to the view.
Pensive Selima follow'd him she lov'd;
On the sad coffin fix'd a stedfast eye;
Nor dropp'd a tear, nor breath'd a tender sigh.
Her dark-brown hair a wreath of roses crown'd;
Her robes of sable flow'd along the ground:
A flower, just opening to the morning dew,
Blush'd in her hand, and brighten'd to the view.
Now in the grave the breathless Youth was laid:
Sadly serene advanc'd the lovely maid;
With speaking eyes, bewail'd her hapless doom,
And dropp'd the floweret in the lonely tomb.
High on the plain the funeral earth was spread;
The turf's gay verdure flourish'd o'er his head:
Each gentle face deplor'd his lot severe,
And spoke th' expressive language of a tear.
Sadly serene advanc'd the lovely maid;
222
And dropp'd the floweret in the lonely tomb.
High on the plain the funeral earth was spread;
The turf's gay verdure flourish'd o'er his head:
Each gentle face deplor'd his lot severe,
And spoke th' expressive language of a tear.
Near the fair maiden stood th' exalted Chief,
Fix'd in mute woe, and great in manly grief.
No ill-tim'd comfort would he strive to lend,
Nor ape the flatteries of the specious friend:
Yet the soft texture of his heart could feel—
Why should he ope the wound he could not heal?
Fix'd in mute woe, and great in manly grief.
No ill-tim'd comfort would he strive to lend,
Nor ape the flatteries of the specious friend:
Yet the soft texture of his heart could feel—
Why should he ope the wound he could not heal?
As thus their bosoms wail'd his hapless end,
And mourn'd, as each had lost his chosen friend;
Admir'd why Heaven had made such worth in vain,
And why confin'd it to the dreadful plain;
His generous deeds in deep dispair ran o'er,
And saw him live, and speak, and act, no more;
Through the sad silence of the solemn scene,
The bands of Zimri cross'd the gloomy green.
Unnumber'd widows, on the field, they found,
Whose sons, whose husbands, strew'd the crimson ground:
Slow mov'd the fair-ones round the dreadful plain,
Wash'd the black gore, and prov'd the countless slain;
And when the partners of their joys they knew,
They cleans'd their stiffen'd wounds in briny dew;
Wail'd their hard lot, that swept, in life's gay bloom,
Each hope, each rapture, to the sullen tomb;
With tears of anguish, envied earth its trust,
And grudg'd the grave the lov'd the precious dust.
And mourn'd, as each had lost his chosen friend;
Admir'd why Heaven had made such worth in vain,
And why confin'd it to the dreadful plain;
His generous deeds in deep dispair ran o'er,
And saw him live, and speak, and act, no more;
Through the sad silence of the solemn scene,
The bands of Zimri cross'd the gloomy green.
Unnumber'd widows, on the field, they found,
Whose sons, whose husbands, strew'd the crimson ground:
Slow mov'd the fair-ones round the dreadful plain,
Wash'd the black gore, and prov'd the countless slain;
And when the partners of their joys they knew,
They cleans'd their stiffen'd wounds in briny dew;
Wail'd their hard lot, that swept, in life's gay bloom,
Each hope, each rapture, to the sullen tomb;
With tears of anguish, envied earth its trust,
And grudg'd the grave the lov'd the precious dust.
Three days, above the undistinguish'd dead,
Their friends, and foes, the gather'd earth was spread.
A hill of stones, sad wound to human pride!
Just mark'd the place, where countless warriors died.
Their friends, and foes, the gather'd earth was spread.
A hill of stones, sad wound to human pride!
Just mark'd the place, where countless warriors died.
As there, in future years, the lonely swain
Drove his small flock, to feed the grass-grown plain,
Near the rough mass, in solemn thought, reclin'd,
Thus sad reflections fill'd his pondering mind.
Ah proud inglorious man! whose insect life
Is lost in pain, in vanity, and strife.
What mighty toils, to gain immortal fame!
What wastes, what slaughters, build the darling name!
Yet this rude tomb, this shapeless pile, contains,
Of chiefs, of kings, the poor, the sole remains.
This prize to win, must nations then expire?
And seats of peace, and joy, be whelm'd in fire?
Oh Heaven, in pity, loose the ties, that bind
To man's black race, a just and honest mind!
Drove his small flock, to feed the grass-grown plain,
223
Thus sad reflections fill'd his pondering mind.
Ah proud inglorious man! whose insect life
Is lost in pain, in vanity, and strife.
What mighty toils, to gain immortal fame!
What wastes, what slaughters, build the darling name!
Yet this rude tomb, this shapeless pile, contains,
Of chiefs, of kings, the poor, the sole remains.
This prize to win, must nations then expire?
And seats of peace, and joy, be whelm'd in fire?
Oh Heaven, in pity, loose the ties, that bind
To man's black race, a just and honest mind!
Low sunk the sun. As now the chief return'd
From midst the camp, and hapless Israel mourn'd,
Hareshah sad, beside his tent, he found;
Prostrate he fell, and reverent kiss'd the ground.
Uprais'd by Joshua's hand, again he stood,
And thus his fears in plaintive accents flow'd.
Hail mighty prince! to thee alone tis given,
To taste the favour of indulgent Heaven;
To guide, with prosperous hand, the race he chose,
And hurl destruction on resisting foes.
Thou know'st, with thee how Gibeon's sons are join'd;
What views unite us, and what covenants bind;
This, through the circling realms by fame was sung,
And round each realm, th' alarm of vengeance rung:
To waste her domes the general voice decreed,
And millions haste t' atchieve the barbarous deed.
Salem's imperious sons, in proud array,
And haughtier Hebron, thither bend their way;
In martial pomp unnumber'd Lachish shines,
And Jarmuth brave with savage Eglon joins;
With these, fierce nations speed from realms unknown,
Near the first glimmerings of the dawning sun.
There too, O Prince! tremendous Jabin stands,
Brings all his chiefs, and leads his veteran bands,
Wings the dread lightenings of the war around,
And rolls his thunders o'er th' embattled ground.
From midst the camp, and hapless Israel mourn'd,
Hareshah sad, beside his tent, he found;
Prostrate he fell, and reverent kiss'd the ground.
Uprais'd by Joshua's hand, again he stood,
And thus his fears in plaintive accents flow'd.
Hail mighty prince! to thee alone tis given,
To taste the favour of indulgent Heaven;
To guide, with prosperous hand, the race he chose,
And hurl destruction on resisting foes.
Thou know'st, with thee how Gibeon's sons are join'd;
What views unite us, and what covenants bind;
This, through the circling realms by fame was sung,
And round each realm, th' alarm of vengeance rung:
To waste her domes the general voice decreed,
And millions haste t' atchieve the barbarous deed.
Salem's imperious sons, in proud array,
And haughtier Hebron, thither bend their way;
In martial pomp unnumber'd Lachish shines,
And Jarmuth brave with savage Eglon joins;
With these, fierce nations speed from realms unknown,
Near the first glimmerings of the dawning sun.
There too, O Prince! tremendous Jabin stands,
Brings all his chiefs, and leads his veteran bands,
224
And rolls his thunders o'er th' embattled ground.
From these dread powers, so numerous, and so brave,
Nought less than Heaven, and thy own hand, can save.
Worne with long years, Aradon's trembling arm
Ill wards the vengeance of so fierce a storm.
And,—O exalted Prince! prepare to hear
A tale more sad than ever pierc'd thine ear—
In the dark grave is generous Elam laid,
And near him sleeps the Heaven-instructed maid.
Nought less than Heaven, and thy own hand, can save.
Worne with long years, Aradon's trembling arm
Ill wards the vengeance of so fierce a storm.
And,—O exalted Prince! prepare to hear
A tale more sad than ever pierc'd thine ear—
In the dark grave is generous Elam laid,
And near him sleeps the Heaven-instructed maid.
How fell the lovely pair? the Leader cried;
And, with sad voice, the stranger chief replied.
When cheerful morn walk'd forth in golden air,
Rode the young hero, and his blooming fair,
With nimble hounds, that bade the forest roar;
To chace the buck, to wound the bristly boar;
On two white steeds they bounded o'er the plain,
And gayly round them pranc'd a youthful train.
No coats of steely mail their limbs invest;
No buckler sparkles o'er the fearless breast;
Thro' sylvan shades they trac'd an easy way:
Each mind was sunshine, and each face was gay.
And, with sad voice, the stranger chief replied.
When cheerful morn walk'd forth in golden air,
Rode the young hero, and his blooming fair,
With nimble hounds, that bade the forest roar;
To chace the buck, to wound the bristly boar;
On two white steeds they bounded o'er the plain,
And gayly round them pranc'd a youthful train.
No coats of steely mail their limbs invest;
No buckler sparkles o'er the fearless breast;
Thro' sylvan shades they trac'd an easy way:
Each mind was sunshine, and each face was gay.
At once, with dreadful din before them rose
The trump of death, and shout of savage foes.
From the thick covert burst a barbarous throng,
Rang clashing arms, and scream'd a hideous song;
His gallant friends, a young, but chosen few,
The prince, serenely brave, around him drew;
With firm, bold breasts, they fought, and at his side
In death they triumph'd, for with him they died.
The trump of death, and shout of savage foes.
From the thick covert burst a barbarous throng,
Rang clashing arms, and scream'd a hideous song;
His gallant friends, a young, but chosen few,
The prince, serenely brave, around him drew;
With firm, bold breasts, they fought, and at his side
In death they triumph'd, for with him they died.
As thro' his bosom sung the fatal steel,
He rais'd his hand, and wav'd along farewell:
On the sweet maid his eye all-wishful hung,
And half-form'd accents ceas'd upon his tongue.
Quick round the youth a tender arm she threw,
Fell as he fell, and wish'd to perish too.
The quivering form she press'd, in icy death,
Kiss'd his pale lips, and suck'd his parting breath.
No more her careless thoughts attempt to fly;
No more her ear attends the horrid cry:
Close to the wound her snowy hand applied
Withdrew the lance, and stopp'd the purple tide.
A grim barbarian to the fair-one came,
Pierc'd her white side, and forc'd the vital stream;
With one weak gasp, on Elam's bosom laid,
Her bloom all vanish'd, and her spirit fled.
He rais'd his hand, and wav'd along farewell:
On the sweet maid his eye all-wishful hung,
And half-form'd accents ceas'd upon his tongue.
Quick round the youth a tender arm she threw,
Fell as he fell, and wish'd to perish too.
225
Kiss'd his pale lips, and suck'd his parting breath.
No more her careless thoughts attempt to fly;
No more her ear attends the horrid cry:
Close to the wound her snowy hand applied
Withdrew the lance, and stopp'd the purple tide.
A grim barbarian to the fair-one came,
Pierc'd her white side, and forc'd the vital stream;
With one weak gasp, on Elam's bosom laid,
Her bloom all vanish'd, and her spirit fled.
In distant fields, we heard the trumpet's sound,
And strode impatient to the fatal ground.
On the sad scene, by favouring shrubs conceal'd,
A youth, unarm'd, the dire event beheld:
He, drown'd in tears, disclos'd the fierce affray,
And shew'd where Mina, and her Elam, lay.
On the cold earth, the wither'd leaves he press'd;
The fair yet panting at his lifeless breast.
Her hand was feebly laid against the spear,
Still in her side, and in her eye a tear.
So blooms a flower beside th' autumnal stream,
And waves, and wantons, in the solar beam,
Nor knows the frost, that in the midnight sky
Lurks for its charms, and bids its beauty die.
And strode impatient to the fatal ground.
On the sad scene, by favouring shrubs conceal'd,
A youth, unarm'd, the dire event beheld:
He, drown'd in tears, disclos'd the fierce affray,
And shew'd where Mina, and her Elam, lay.
On the cold earth, the wither'd leaves he press'd;
The fair yet panting at his lifeless breast.
Her hand was feebly laid against the spear,
Still in her side, and in her eye a tear.
So blooms a flower beside th' autumnal stream,
And waves, and wantons, in the solar beam,
Nor knows the frost, that in the midnight sky
Lurks for its charms, and bids its beauty die.
The hapless pair in snow-white robes array'd,
To the same grave our friendly hands convey'd.
Kind youths, and virgins, there at dawn appear,
Strew fragrant flowers, and drop the tender tear;
There the sad wild rose yields its withering bloom,
And melancholy music mourns their doom.
Pierc'd thro' his thigh, and weltering on the ground,
A savage wretch, beneath an oak, we found.
By favours won, he shew'd th' impending doom,
What bands are gather'd, and what heroes come.
To spy these realms, he cried, from Hebron's land,
Thro' many a forest rov'd our warlike band,
Led by bold Hoham, from far distant shores,
Thence countless hosts invade yon shining towers;
There giant Zedeck's lofty car is roll'd;
There beams young Piram in refulgent gold;
High rais'd in air, ten thousand standards play,
And chiefs unnumber'd hail the deathful day.
To the same grave our friendly hands convey'd.
Kind youths, and virgins, there at dawn appear,
Strew fragrant flowers, and drop the tender tear;
There the sad wild rose yields its withering bloom,
And melancholy music mourns their doom.
Pierc'd thro' his thigh, and weltering on the ground,
A savage wretch, beneath an oak, we found.
By favours won, he shew'd th' impending doom,
What bands are gather'd, and what heroes come.
To spy these realms, he cried, from Hebron's land,
Thro' many a forest rov'd our warlike band,
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Thence countless hosts invade yon shining towers;
There giant Zedeck's lofty car is roll'd;
There beams young Piram in refulgent gold;
High rais'd in air, ten thousand standards play,
And chiefs unnumber'd hail the deathful day.
Thus spoke the wretch. As o'er yon mountain's brow
I steer'd my path, and eyed the world below,
From distant fields, the trump's approaching sound
Wav'd o'er the plains, and fill'd the groves around;
Swift tow'rd the walls long, dusty volumes came,
And dreadful gleams of interrupted flame;
On high the banners danc'd; a mighty train,
With lines immeasurable, hid the plain.
I steer'd my path, and eyed the world below,
From distant fields, the trump's approaching sound
Wav'd o'er the plains, and fill'd the groves around;
Swift tow'rd the walls long, dusty volumes came,
And dreadful gleams of interrupted flame;
On high the banners danc'd; a mighty train,
With lines immeasurable, hid the plain.
Oh, by the covenant, which thy voice hath given,
By the blest favour of all-bounteous Heaven,
That Heaven, which makes thee his peculiar care,
Aid our weak race, and grant our righteous prayer!
By the blest favour of all-bounteous Heaven,
That Heaven, which makes thee his peculiar care,
Aid our weak race, and grant our righteous prayer!
Thus mourn'd the chief, while Caleb slow drew nigh,
His anguish'd bosom heaving many a sigh;
His soul, in silence, mourn'd the hapless pair,
All-lovely Irad and his beauteous fair;
When Joshua sad the hoary sage address'd—
Great prince, this night Hareshah is thy guest.
His voice a mournful tale from Gibeon brings;
How 'gainst her walls Canäan arms her kings.
Our aid he claims; an aid by covenant doe;
But ah, what griefs our hapless race pursue!
Again th' Eternal arm our course withstands,
Cuts off our chiefs, and slays our hapless bands.
First Hezron slept: then virtuous Uzal fell,
And brave Shelumiel bade the world farewel,
Next lovely Irad found a hapless doom;
And now sweet Mina seeks an early tomb.
Should still new courses unadvis'd be tried,
Fresh wrath may kindle, and fresh ills betide.
Let then this chief in peace with thee retire,
'Till Heaven his counsels, and our course, inspire.
His anguish'd bosom heaving many a sigh;
His soul, in silence, mourn'd the hapless pair,
All-lovely Irad and his beauteous fair;
When Joshua sad the hoary sage address'd—
Great prince, this night Hareshah is thy guest.
His voice a mournful tale from Gibeon brings;
How 'gainst her walls Canäan arms her kings.
Our aid he claims; an aid by covenant doe;
But ah, what griefs our hapless race pursue!
Again th' Eternal arm our course withstands,
Cuts off our chiefs, and slays our hapless bands.
First Hezron slept: then virtuous Uzal fell,
And brave Shelumiel bade the world farewel,
Next lovely Irad found a hapless doom;
And now sweet Mina seeks an early tomb.
Should still new courses unadvis'd be tried,
Fresh wrath may kindle, and fresh ills betide.
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'Till Heaven his counsels, and our course, inspire.
He spoke. Hareshah with the sage withdrew,
While the sun lingering slowly left the view;
The mourning Hero sought a slight repose,
And broken slumbers o'er his eye-lids rose.
While the sun lingering slowly left the view;
The mourning Hero sought a slight repose,
And broken slumbers o'er his eye-lids rose.
Now Night, in vestments rob'd of cloudy die,
With sable grandeur cloth'd the orient sky,
Impell'd the sun, obsequious to her reign,
Down the far mountains to the western main:
With magic hand, becalm'd the solemn even,
And drew day's curtain from the spangled heaven.
At once the planets sail'd around her throne;
At once ten thousand worlds in splendor shone:
Behind her car, the moon's expanded eye
Rose from a cloud, and look'd around the sky:
Far up th' immense her train sublimely roll,
And dance, and triumph, round the lucid pole.
Faint shine the fields, beneath the shadowy ray;
Slow fades the glimmering of the west away;
To sleep the tribes retire; and not a sound
Flows through the air, or murmurs on the ground.
With sable grandeur cloth'd the orient sky,
Impell'd the sun, obsequious to her reign,
Down the far mountains to the western main:
With magic hand, becalm'd the solemn even,
And drew day's curtain from the spangled heaven.
At once the planets sail'd around her throne;
At once ten thousand worlds in splendor shone:
Behind her car, the moon's expanded eye
Rose from a cloud, and look'd around the sky:
Far up th' immense her train sublimely roll,
And dance, and triumph, round the lucid pole.
Faint shine the fields, beneath the shadowy ray;
Slow fades the glimmering of the west away;
To sleep the tribes retire; and not a sound
Flows through the air, or murmurs on the ground.
The Chief, arising, o'er the darksome green
Turn'd his slow steps, and view'd the splendid scene;
With wondering gaze, survey'd the vaulted even,
The half-seen world, and all the pomp of Heaven.
Wide arch'd the palace of th' Almighty hand,
Its walls far-bending o'er the sea, and land:
Round the vast roof, from antient darkness sprung,
In living pride, immortal tapers hung:
The lamp on high an endless lustre shed,
And earth's broad pavement all beneath was spread.
From distant hills, red flames began to rise,
Topp'd the tall towers, and climb'd the kindling skies:
Thick stream'd the transient stars; and all around
A still, mild glory rob'd the twilight ground.
Turn'd his slow steps, and view'd the splendid scene;
With wondering gaze, survey'd the vaulted even,
The half-seen world, and all the pomp of Heaven.
Wide arch'd the palace of th' Almighty hand,
Its walls far-bending o'er the sea, and land:
Round the vast roof, from antient darkness sprung,
In living pride, immortal tapers hung:
The lamp on high an endless lustre shed,
And earth's broad pavement all beneath was spread.
From distant hills, red flames began to rise,
Topp'd the tall towers, and climb'd the kindling skies:
Thick stream'd the transient stars; and all around
A still, mild glory rob'd the twilight ground.
228
Now tow'rd the north he bent his wandering way,
Each scene revolving of the busy day,
When lo! soft sounds his startled ear assail,
Soft as the whisper of the flowing gale.
Now mournful murmurs slowly-pensive rise;
Now languid harmony in silence dies:
Now nobler strains, with animating fire,
Warm the bold raptures of the living lyre.
Each scene revolving of the busy day,
When lo! soft sounds his startled ear assail,
Soft as the whisper of the flowing gale.
Now mournful murmurs slowly-pensive rise;
Now languid harmony in silence dies:
Now nobler strains, with animating fire,
Warm the bold raptures of the living lyre.
Whither, O whither is thy beauty gone!
To what far region? to what world unknown?
No lone, drear shades of everlasting gloom,
Verg'd on the confines of the icy tomb,
No frozen climes, extend impervious bounds,
Confine thy walks, and bar thy active rounds,
Forbid thy upward flight at large to rove,
And climb the mountains of eternal love.
To what far region? to what world unknown?
No lone, drear shades of everlasting gloom,
Verg'd on the confines of the icy tomb,
No frozen climes, extend impervious bounds,
Confine thy walks, and bar thy active rounds,
Forbid thy upward flight at large to rove,
And climb the mountains of eternal love.
Far other scenes thy lovely spirit claim;
Far other mansions own thy lasting fame.
Borne on light wings, I see thy guardian come,
Unchain thy mind, and point the starry home:
With joy, he clasps thee in immortal arms,
Waves his young plumes, and smiles etherial charms;
Through fields of air, he wins his purple way,
And rosy choirs, delighted, round him play.
Far other mansions own thy lasting fame.
Borne on light wings, I see thy guardian come,
Unchain thy mind, and point the starry home:
With joy, he clasps thee in immortal arms,
Waves his young plumes, and smiles etherial charms;
Through fields of air, he wins his purple way,
And rosy choirs, delighted, round him play.
There, o'er bright realms, and pure, unchanging skies,
Suns gayly walk, and lucid morns arise;
Crown'd with new flowers, the streams perpetual roll,
And living beauty blooms around the pole.
Will there, alas! the soft enchantment end?
And can no love to those fair climes ascend?
It can; it will; for there the bless'd improve
Their minds in joy, and where's the joy, but love?
Suns gayly walk, and lucid morns arise;
Crown'd with new flowers, the streams perpetual roll,
And living beauty blooms around the pole.
Will there, alas! the soft enchantment end?
And can no love to those fair climes ascend?
It can; it will; for there the bless'd improve
Their minds in joy, and where's the joy, but love?
Canst thou forget, when, call'd from southern bowers,
Love tun'd the groves, and spring awak'd the flowers,
How, loos'd from slumbers by the morning ray,
O'er balmy plains we bent our frequent way?
On thy fond arm, with pleasing gaze, I hung,
And heard sweet music murmur o'er thy tongue;
Hand lock'd in hand, with gentle ardour press'd,
Pour'd soft emotions through the heaving breast,
In magic transport heart with heart entwin'd,
And in sweet languors lost the melting mind.
Love tun'd the groves, and spring awak'd the flowers,
How, loos'd from slumbers by the morning ray,
O'er balmy plains we bent our frequent way?
229
And heard sweet music murmur o'er thy tongue;
Hand lock'd in hand, with gentle ardour press'd,
Pour'd soft emotions through the heaving breast,
In magic transport heart with heart entwin'd,
And in sweet languors lost the melting mind.
'Twas then, thy voice, attun'd to wisdom's lay,
Shew'd fairer worlds, and trac'd th' immortal way;
In virtue's pleasing paths my footsteps tried,
My sweet companion, and my skillful guide;
Through varied knowledge taught my mind to soar,
Search hidden truths, and new-found walks explore:
While still the tale, by nature learn'd to rove,
Slid, unperceiv'd to scenes of happy love.
'Till weak, and lost, the faltering converse fell,
And eyes disclos'd what eyes alone could tell;
In rapturous tumuls bade the passions roll.
And spoke the living language of the soul.
Shew'd fairer worlds, and trac'd th' immortal way;
In virtue's pleasing paths my footsteps tried,
My sweet companion, and my skillful guide;
Through varied knowledge taught my mind to soar,
Search hidden truths, and new-found walks explore:
While still the tale, by nature learn'd to rove,
Slid, unperceiv'd to scenes of happy love.
'Till weak, and lost, the faltering converse fell,
And eyes disclos'd what eyes alone could tell;
In rapturous tumuls bade the passions roll.
And spoke the living language of the soul.
With what fond hope, through many a blissful hour,
We gave the soul to fancy's pleasing power;
Lost in the magic of that sweet employ
To build gay scenes, and fashion future joy!
We saw mild Peace o'er fair Canäan rise,
And shower her pleasures from benignant skies.
On airy hills our happy mansion rose,
Built but for joy, nor room reserv'd for woes.
Round the calm solitude, with ceaseless song.
Soft roll'd domestic ecstasy along:
Sweet as the sleep of Innocence, the day,
By raptures number'd, lightly danc'd away:
To love, to bliss, the union'd soul was given,
And each, too happy! ask'd no brighter heaven.
Yet then, even then, my trembling thoughts would rove,
And steal on hour from Irad, and from love,
Through dread futurity all-anxious roam.
And cast a mournful glance on ills to come.
Hope not, fond maid, some voice prophetic cried—
A life, thus wasted down th' unruffled tide:
Trust no gay, golden doom, from anguish free,
Nor wish the laws of Heaven revers'd for thee.
Survey the peopled world; thy soul shall find
Woes, ceaseless woes, ordain'd for poor mankind.
Life's a long solitude, an unknown gloom,
Clos'd by the silence of the dreary tomb.
We gave the soul to fancy's pleasing power;
Lost in the magic of that sweet employ
To build gay scenes, and fashion future joy!
We saw mild Peace o'er fair Canäan rise,
And shower her pleasures from benignant skies.
On airy hills our happy mansion rose,
Built but for joy, nor room reserv'd for woes.
Round the calm solitude, with ceaseless song.
Soft roll'd domestic ecstasy along:
Sweet as the sleep of Innocence, the day,
By raptures number'd, lightly danc'd away:
To love, to bliss, the union'd soul was given,
And each, too happy! ask'd no brighter heaven.
Yet then, even then, my trembling thoughts would rove,
And steal on hour from Irad, and from love,
Through dread futurity all-anxious roam.
And cast a mournful glance on ills to come.
230
A life, thus wasted down th' unruffled tide:
Trust no gay, golden doom, from anguish free,
Nor wish the laws of Heaven revers'd for thee.
Survey the peopled world; thy soul shall find
Woes, ceaseless woes, ordain'd for poor mankind.
Life's a long solitude, an unknown gloom,
Clos'd by the silence of the dreary tomb.
For soon, ah soon shall fleet thy pleasing dreams;
Soon close the eye, that, bright as angels, beams
Grace irresistible. To mouldering clay
Shall change the face, that smiles thy griefs away;
Soon the sweet music of that voice be o'er,
Hope cease to charm, and beauty bloom no more:
Strange, darksome wilds, and devious ways be trod,
Nor love, nor Irad, steal thy heart from God.
And must the hours in ceaceless anguish roll?
Must no soft sunshine cheer my clouded soul?
Spring charm around me brightest scenes, in vain?
And Youth's angelick visions wake to pain?
Oh come once more, with fond endearments come;
Burst the cold prison of the sullen tomb;
Thro' favourite walks, thy chosen maid attend;
Where well-known shades for thee their branches bend:
Shed the sweet poison from thy speaking eye;
And look those raptures, lifeless words deny!
Still be the tale rehears'd, that ne'er could tire;
But, told each eve, fresh pleasure could inspire:
Still hop'd those scenes, which love and fancy drew;
But, drawn a thousand times, were ever new!
Soon close the eye, that, bright as angels, beams
Grace irresistible. To mouldering clay
Shall change the face, that smiles thy griefs away;
Soon the sweet music of that voice be o'er,
Hope cease to charm, and beauty bloom no more:
Strange, darksome wilds, and devious ways be trod,
Nor love, nor Irad, steal thy heart from God.
And must the hours in ceaceless anguish roll?
Must no soft sunshine cheer my clouded soul?
Spring charm around me brightest scenes, in vain?
And Youth's angelick visions wake to pain?
Oh come once more, with fond endearments come;
Burst the cold prison of the sullen tomb;
Thro' favourite walks, thy chosen maid attend;
Where well-known shades for thee their branches bend:
Shed the sweet poison from thy speaking eye;
And look those raptures, lifeless words deny!
Still be the tale rehears'd, that ne'er could tire;
But, told each eve, fresh pleasure could inspire:
Still hop'd those scenes, which love and fancy drew;
But, drawn a thousand times, were ever new!
Yet cease, fond maid; 'tis thine alone to mourn:
Yield the bright scenes, that never can return.
Thy joys are fled, thy smiling morn is o'er;
Too bless'd in youth, thou must be bless'd no more.
The hope, that brighten'd, with all-pleasing ray,
Shone, but to charm, and flatter'd, to betray.
Yield the bright scenes, that never can return.
Thy joys are fled, thy smiling morn is o'er;
Too bless'd in youth, thou must be bless'd no more.
The hope, that brighten'd, with all-pleasing ray,
Shone, but to charm, and flatter'd, to betray.
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No more fair Irad heeds my tender strain;
Dull is the voice, that never call'd in vain;
Vain the cold languish of these once lov'd eyes;
And vain the fond desire, that bids him rise.
In life's gay scenes, their highest grace before.
Thy mind, O Youth divine! must share no more;
Alike unnotic'd, joys and tumults roll,
Nor these disturb, nor those delight, thy soul.
Dull is the voice, that never call'd in vain;
Vain the cold languish of these once lov'd eyes;
And vain the fond desire, that bids him rise.
In life's gay scenes, their highest grace before.
Thy mind, O Youth divine! must share no more;
Alike unnotic'd, joys and tumults roll,
Nor these disturb, nor those delight, thy soul.
Again all bright shall glow the morning beam;
Again soft suns dissolve the frozen stream:
Spring call young breezes from the southern skies,
And, cloath'd in splendor, flowery millions rise,
In vain to thee—No morn's indulgent ray
Warms the cold mansion of the slumbering clay.
No mild etherial gale, with tepid wing,
Shall fan thy locks, or wast approaching spring:
Unfelt, unknown, shall breathe the rich perfume,
And unhear'd music wave around thy tomb.
Again soft suns dissolve the frozen stream:
Spring call young breezes from the southern skies,
And, cloath'd in splendor, flowery millions rise,
In vain to thee—No morn's indulgent ray
Warms the cold mansion of the slumbering clay.
No mild etherial gale, with tepid wing,
Shall fan thy locks, or wast approaching spring:
Unfelt, unknown, shall breathe the rich perfume,
And unhear'd music wave around thy tomb.
A cold, dumb, dead repose invests thee round;
Still as the void, ere nature form'd a sound.
O'er thy dark region, pierc'd by no kind ray,
Slow roll the long, oblivious hours away.
In these wild walks, this solitary round,
Where the pale moon-beam lights the glimmering ground
At each sad turn, I view thy spirit come,
And glide, half-seen, behind a neighbouring tomb;
With visionary hand, forbid my stay,
Look o'er the grave, and beckon me away.
Still as the void, ere nature form'd a sound.
O'er thy dark region, pierc'd by no kind ray,
Slow roll the long, oblivious hours away.
In these wild walks, this solitary round,
Where the pale moon-beam lights the glimmering ground
At each sad turn, I view thy spirit come,
And glide, half-seen, behind a neighbouring tomb;
With visionary hand, forbid my stay,
Look o'er the grave, and beckon me away.
But vain the wish; for still, around thy tomb,
This faithful hand shall bid the wild rose bloom;
Each lonely eve, Selima hither rove,
And pay the tribute of unalter'd love;
Till, O fond, lovely youth! these eyes shall close,
Seal'd in the silence of a long repose:
Beneath one turf our kindred bodies lie,
And lose, unpain'd, this melancholy sky.
With thee, well-pleas'd, the final pang I'll brave;
With thee Death smile, and lightsome be the grave;
O'er earth's broad fields, till heavens forget to reign,
And suns benighted vanish in the main;
This dark recess the cherub then shall find,
And wake a form, angelic as thy mind.
This faithful hand shall bid the wild rose bloom;
Each lonely eve, Selima hither rove,
And pay the tribute of unalter'd love;
Till, O fond, lovely youth! these eyes shall close,
Seal'd in the silence of a long repose:
Beneath one turf our kindred bodies lie,
And lose, unpain'd, this melancholy sky.
232
With thee Death smile, and lightsome be the grave;
O'er earth's broad fields, till heavens forget to reign,
And suns benighted vanish in the main;
This dark recess the cherub then shall find,
And wake a form, angelic as thy mind.
Distress'd, kind Joshua heard her moving strain,
But still walk'd onward o'er the shady plain;
Why should his face her mournful thoughts molest,
Tho' soft compassion warm'd his feeling breast;
No comfort could he lend, nor joy impart,
While slumbering Irad own'd her tender heart.
But still walk'd onward o'er the shady plain;
Why should his face her mournful thoughts molest,
Tho' soft compassion warm'd his feeling breast;
No comfort could he lend, nor joy impart,
While slumbering Irad own'd her tender heart.
And now his footsteps slow and softly rove,
Thro' the black silence of th' extended grove;
Alternate moon-beams feebly pierce the shade,
And o'er his path a glimmering horror spread;
Strange, awful objects dimly rise around,
And forms unfinish'd cloath the gloomy ground.
With mournful thoughts the prospect well combin'd,
And sooth'd the wanderings of a drooping mind.
Around he cast his melancholy eyes,
And pleas'd, beheld the solemn scenes arise;
Scenes tun'd in concert with his sadden'd soul,
To grief resign'd, and pity's soft controul;
The gloom, the silence, gave a kind relief;
Peace sprung from trouble, and delight from grief?
His heart impassion'd mourn'd his daughter's doom,
Her charms, her virtues, banish'd to the tomb.
Then hapless Irad all his woes renew'd,
And copious tears afresh his checks bedew'd:
At length, the tumults of his struggling breast
Unwish'd, unbidden accents thus express'd.
Thro' the black silence of th' extended grove;
Alternate moon-beams feebly pierce the shade,
And o'er his path a glimmering horror spread;
Strange, awful objects dimly rise around,
And forms unfinish'd cloath the gloomy ground.
With mournful thoughts the prospect well combin'd,
And sooth'd the wanderings of a drooping mind.
Around he cast his melancholy eyes,
And pleas'd, beheld the solemn scenes arise;
Scenes tun'd in concert with his sadden'd soul,
To grief resign'd, and pity's soft controul;
The gloom, the silence, gave a kind relief;
Peace sprung from trouble, and delight from grief?
His heart impassion'd mourn'd his daughter's doom,
Her charms, her virtues, banish'd to the tomb.
Then hapless Irad all his woes renew'd,
And copious tears afresh his checks bedew'd:
At length, the tumults of his struggling breast
Unwish'd, unbidden accents thus express'd.
Oh, when shall Israel's countless sorrows cease?
And war once more resign to lasting peace?
Each rising morn, more dreadful woes appear.
And each sad evening prompts a larger tear.
Why did pale terror Judah's race appal?
Why princes, chiefs, and generous thousands fall?
Ah! why did Heaven to me commit the sway,
And bid his sons this feeble arm obey?
Oh had the Power divine for me ordain'd
Some humble mansion, in a lonely land;
Where the trump's voice was never never heard;
Nor falchion drawn, nor savage slaughter fear'd!
In quiet then my life had pass'd away,
Bless'd without pride, and without splendor gay;
In death, my soul serenely met her doom,
And my own children built my humble tomb.
And war once more resign to lasting peace?
Each rising morn, more dreadful woes appear.
And each sad evening prompts a larger tear.
233
Why princes, chiefs, and generous thousands fall?
Ah! why did Heaven to me commit the sway,
And bid his sons this feeble arm obey?
Oh had the Power divine for me ordain'd
Some humble mansion, in a lonely land;
Where the trump's voice was never never heard;
Nor falchion drawn, nor savage slaughter fear'd!
In quiet then my life had pass'd away,
Bless'd without pride, and without splendor gay;
In death, my soul serenely met her doom,
And my own children built my humble tomb.
At once a wild, and visionary sound,
With sudden murmurs, fill'd the grove around;
The strange alarm now loud and louder grew,
And through the forest bursting splendor flew;
A Form, the brightest of the morning choir,
Drew near, in all the pomp of heavenly fire;
Twelve stars of glory crown'd his awful head;
His sun-bright eyes the forky lightening shed;
Serene, but dreadfully serene, he stood,
And a dire trembling seiz'd the conscious wood.
As when a storm the dark horizon fills,
Long, solemn thunders roll o'er distant hills;
So, from the Vision's voice, a fearful sound
Appall'd his ear, and shook the startled ground.
Chief of thy race! from heaven's eternal King,
At his command, this sacred charge I bring.
I am the Lord. I form'd the earth, and sky,
Illum'd the fun, and hung his flames on high;
Bade worlds, in millions, star th' etherial plain,
And built the secret chambers of the main.
My voice, the heaven, and heaven of heavens obey;
And Ocean, Earth, and Hell, confess my sway.
Through worlds, on worlds, in Being's mighty bounds,
That roll through space' illimitable rounds;
Where skies, o'er skies, unmeasur'd arches bend,
And stars, o'er stars, in endless pride ascend;
Where the sun's searching beam hath never ray'd,
Nor scarce an angel's pinion'd fancy stray'd;
My power, my wisdom, with divine controul,
Surveys, preserves, directs and moves, the whole.
All these, with all their scenes, th' eternal Mind,
Ere angels sung, or heaven began, design'd.
Whate'er my voice ordain'd to being came,
Touch'd by th' immortal, all-inspiring flame.
In all, though man, with vain, benighted eye,
Of insect ken, unnumber'd blots descry,
From hell's deep caves, to heaven's sublimest bound,
No stain, no fault, no error, can be found.
With sudden murmurs, fill'd the grove around;
The strange alarm now loud and louder grew,
And through the forest bursting splendor flew;
A Form, the brightest of the morning choir,
Drew near, in all the pomp of heavenly fire;
Twelve stars of glory crown'd his awful head;
His sun-bright eyes the forky lightening shed;
Serene, but dreadfully serene, he stood,
And a dire trembling seiz'd the conscious wood.
As when a storm the dark horizon fills,
Long, solemn thunders roll o'er distant hills;
So, from the Vision's voice, a fearful sound
Appall'd his ear, and shook the startled ground.
Chief of thy race! from heaven's eternal King,
At his command, this sacred charge I bring.
I am the Lord. I form'd the earth, and sky,
Illum'd the fun, and hung his flames on high;
Bade worlds, in millions, star th' etherial plain,
And built the secret chambers of the main.
My voice, the heaven, and heaven of heavens obey;
And Ocean, Earth, and Hell, confess my sway.
Through worlds, on worlds, in Being's mighty bounds,
That roll through space' illimitable rounds;
234
And stars, o'er stars, in endless pride ascend;
Where the sun's searching beam hath never ray'd,
Nor scarce an angel's pinion'd fancy stray'd;
My power, my wisdom, with divine controul,
Surveys, preserves, directs and moves, the whole.
All these, with all their scenes, th' eternal Mind,
Ere angels sung, or heaven began, design'd.
Whate'er my voice ordain'd to being came,
Touch'd by th' immortal, all-inspiring flame.
In all, though man, with vain, benighted eye,
Of insect ken, unnumber'd blots descry,
From hell's deep caves, to heaven's sublimest bound,
No stain, no fault, no error, can be found.
Whose thoughts shall then my boundless wisdom blame?
Whose wishes rise against my holy Name?
My spirit form'd thee in the silent womb,
And wrote, with Mercy's hand, thy favourite doom;
Thy soul awak'd, thy infant limbs inspir'd,
With truth illum'd thee, and with virtue fir'd;
Bade all my sons thy sceptred rule obey,
And stretch'd thy glory with the solar ray.
And shall thy heart my bounteous hand distrust,
And mourn that warriors mingle with the dust?
What though brave Irad from the world retir'd,
Tho' numerous bands around his steps expir'd;
Without a sear, without a pang, resign;
That virtuous Youth, and all those bands, were mine.
With songs the grace adore, that rais'd thy mind,
From the low confines of the bestial kind,
Where countless throngs plod on their base pursuits,
Above, and just above, their kindred brutes,
To that sublimest honour, man can know,
To bless my sons, and shew my praise, below.
Whose wishes rise against my holy Name?
My spirit form'd thee in the silent womb,
And wrote, with Mercy's hand, thy favourite doom;
Thy soul awak'd, thy infant limbs inspir'd,
With truth illum'd thee, and with virtue fir'd;
Bade all my sons thy sceptred rule obey,
And stretch'd thy glory with the solar ray.
And shall thy heart my bounteous hand distrust,
And mourn that warriors mingle with the dust?
What though brave Irad from the world retir'd,
Tho' numerous bands around his steps expir'd;
Without a sear, without a pang, resign;
That virtuous Youth, and all those bands, were mine.
With songs the grace adore, that rais'd thy mind,
From the low confines of the bestial kind,
Where countless throngs plod on their base pursuits,
Above, and just above, their kindred brutes,
To that sublimest honour, man can know,
To bless my sons, and shew my praise, below.
Forgive, O Heaven! forgive—the Hero cried;
And milder thus the Vision's voice replied.
O Chief of Israel! let no rebel thought
Accuse the wonders, God's right hand hath wrought.
While his almighty arm thy course sustains,
Ask not what numbers crowd embattled plains.
From the broad circuit of her various lands,
He call'd to fight Canäan's countless bands:
He bids thee fearless tempt the martial field,
And trust the covert of his guardian shield.
For there, in virtue's cause, thy God shall arm,
And pour the vengeance of the baleful storm;
The sun stand still; the moon thy voice obey;
And the bright angel sweep thy foes away.
And milder thus the Vision's voice replied.
235
Accuse the wonders, God's right hand hath wrought.
While his almighty arm thy course sustains,
Ask not what numbers crowd embattled plains.
From the broad circuit of her various lands,
He call'd to fight Canäan's countless bands:
He bids thee fearless tempt the martial field,
And trust the covert of his guardian shield.
For there, in virtue's cause, thy God shall arm,
And pour the vengeance of the baleful storm;
The sun stand still; the moon thy voice obey;
And the bright angel sweep thy foes away.
But now to nobler scenes thy views extend!
See long futurity in pomp ascend!
The varying doom of Israel's wayward race;
How truth exalts them, and how crimes debase;
Their arts, their arms, their towns, and towers, behold,
Fields of fair flocks, and domes inchas'd with gold!
High Heaven around them spreads his blessings far
Or proves, and scourges, with vindictive war!
There too, successive, see the wonders rise,
That guard, and bless, the Children of the skies;
Thy own bright Israel; Heaven's immortal race,
Sav'd by his Son, and sainted by his grace;
To Jacob's chosen seed at first confin'd,
Then wide, and wider, spread to all mankind!
With more than mortal ken, thy raptur'd soul
Shall see far distant times in vision roll;
When Abraham's sons, from earth's remotest end,
To Salem's heaven-topp'd mountains shall ascend;
When round the poles, where frozen splendors play,
In noontide realms, that bask in brighter day,
On spicy shores, where beauteous morning reigns,
Or Evening lingers o'er her favourite plains,
From guilt, from death, reviving nations rise,
And one vast hymn of transport fills the skies.
Beyond these scenes, shall nobler wonders shine,
Climes of sweet peace, and years of joy divine,
Where truth's fair sons extend the golden wing
Thro' morn e'er-rising, ever changing spring;
Where unborn Beauty, round whose awful throne,
All splendors fade, and suns are dark at noon,
Smiles o'er broad regions ever-brightening day,
Fair nature quickening in th' ecstatic ray:
The soul, pure effluence of th' all-beaming Mind,
With virtue diadem'd, with truth refin'd,
With bliss supreme, with radiance yet unknown,
Begins, a star, and brightens to a sun;
Life, Love, and Rapture, blossom in her sight,
And Glory triumphs o'er the world of light.
See long futurity in pomp ascend!
The varying doom of Israel's wayward race;
How truth exalts them, and how crimes debase;
Their arts, their arms, their towns, and towers, behold,
Fields of fair flocks, and domes inchas'd with gold!
High Heaven around them spreads his blessings far
Or proves, and scourges, with vindictive war!
There too, successive, see the wonders rise,
That guard, and bless, the Children of the skies;
Thy own bright Israel; Heaven's immortal race,
Sav'd by his Son, and sainted by his grace;
To Jacob's chosen seed at first confin'd,
Then wide, and wider, spread to all mankind!
With more than mortal ken, thy raptur'd soul
Shall see far distant times in vision roll;
When Abraham's sons, from earth's remotest end,
To Salem's heaven-topp'd mountains shall ascend;
When round the poles, where frozen splendors play,
In noontide realms, that bask in brighter day,
On spicy shores, where beauteous morning reigns,
Or Evening lingers o'er her favourite plains,
From guilt, from death, reviving nations rise,
And one vast hymn of transport fills the skies.
236
Climes of sweet peace, and years of joy divine,
Where truth's fair sons extend the golden wing
Thro' morn e'er-rising, ever changing spring;
Where unborn Beauty, round whose awful throne,
All splendors fade, and suns are dark at noon,
Smiles o'er broad regions ever-brightening day,
Fair nature quickening in th' ecstatic ray:
The soul, pure effluence of th' all-beaming Mind,
With virtue diadem'd, with truth refin'd,
With bliss supreme, with radiance yet unknown,
Begins, a star, and brightens to a sun;
Life, Love, and Rapture, blossom in her sight,
And Glory triumphs o'er the world of light.
| The conquest of Canäan | |