 | Miscellaneous Poems |  |
55
United States.
“Because that Tyrus hath said against Jerusalem, Aha, she
is broken that was the gates of the people: she is turned unto
me: I shall be replenished, now she is laid waste: Therefore
thus saith the Lord God; Behold, I am against thee, O
Tyrus.”—
Ezek. xxvi. 2, 3.
Tyre of the farther
West! be thou too warn'd
Whose eagle wings thine own green world o'erspread,
Touching two oceans: wherefore hast thou scorn'd
Thy fathers' God, O proud and full of bread?
Why lies the Cross unhonour'd on thy ground,
While in mid air thy stars and arrows flaunt?
That sheaf of darts, will it not fall unbound,
Except, disrob'd of thy vain earthly vaunt,
Thou bring it to be bless'd where Saints and Angels haunt?
Whose eagle wings thine own green world o'erspread,
Touching two oceans: wherefore hast thou scorn'd
Thy fathers' God, O proud and full of bread?
Why lies the Cross unhonour'd on thy ground,
While in mid air thy stars and arrows flaunt?
That sheaf of darts, will it not fall unbound,
Except, disrob'd of thy vain earthly vaunt,
Thou bring it to be bless'd where Saints and Angels haunt?
56
The holy seed, by Heaven's peculiar grace,
Is rooted here and there in thy dark woods;
But many a rank weed round it grows apace,
And Mammon builds beside thy mighty floods,
O'ertopping Nature, braving Nature's God.
O while thou yet hast room, fair fruitful land,
Ere war and want have stain'd thy virgin sod,
Mark thee a place on high, a glorious stand,
Whence Truth her sign may make o'er forest, lake, and strand.
Is rooted here and there in thy dark woods;
But many a rank weed round it grows apace,
And Mammon builds beside thy mighty floods,
O'ertopping Nature, braving Nature's God.
O while thou yet hast room, fair fruitful land,
Ere war and want have stain'd thy virgin sod,
Mark thee a place on high, a glorious stand,
Whence Truth her sign may make o'er forest, lake, and strand.
Eastward, this hour, perchance thou turn'st thine ear,
Listening if haply with the surging sea,
Blend sounds of Ruin from a land once dear
To thee and Heaven. O trying hour for thee!
Tyre mock'd when Salem fell: where now is Tyre?
Heaven was against her. Nations thick as waves
Burst o'er her walls, to ocean doom'd and fire:
And now the tideless water idly laves
Her towers, and lone sands heap her crownèd merchants' graves.
Listening if haply with the surging sea,
Blend sounds of Ruin from a land once dear
To thee and Heaven. O trying hour for thee!
Tyre mock'd when Salem fell: where now is Tyre?
Heaven was against her. Nations thick as waves
Burst o'er her walls, to ocean doom'd and fire:
And now the tideless water idly laves
Her towers, and lone sands heap her crownèd merchants' graves.
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