A LAMENT FOR JERUSALEM
1
Mockery sits on Salem's throne,
And ruin lives upon her walls;
Her Holy City lies alone,
A ruined glory none recalls.
Oh! where's the glory and the gem
Of Sion's hill,—Jerusalem?—
2
Siloa is the place of tombs,
The most entire of all around,
There the King-poet's memory blooms,—
Patriarchs and prophets rotting round!—
But Sion's hill hath lost its gem,—
Oh! where art thou! Jerusalem!—
3
Judah's fair maid's no coronet!
The queen of Judah has no throne,
Dead ruins every where are met,—
The Holy City lies alone!
Queens sleep without their diadem
Dews are the city's weeping gem!
4
The grass grows on the mountain heath,
The holy ruins lie below;
The Jews are scattered, like the breath
Of tempests centuries ago,
Oh! where's the glory and the gem
Of Sion's hill, Jerusalem?
5
Mockery sits on Salem's throne,
And ruin lives upon her walls,
Her holy city lies alone,
A ruined glory none recalls!
Gone is the glory and the gem
Of Sion's hill, Jerusalem!—
