 | The Poetical Works of David Gray |  |
183
Ezekiel.
Ezekiel, thus from the Lord God: Behold,Mount Seir, I am against thee! Desolate,
Most desolate thy cloudy and dark fate.
Between the lips of talkers bad and bold,
Thy towns forsaken, and thy rivers rolled
Thro' silent wastes, are taken up, and great
The joy at thy high glories ruinate.
While all the earth is wanton, thou art cold,
For thy most cruel lifting of the spear
'Gainst Israel in her time of consternation.
Slain men shall fill thy mountains, O mount Seir!
Sith thou hast blood pursued, fell tribulation
Shall curse thy blessings, mock'd and undeplored:—
As I live, thou shalt know I am the Lord!
| The Poetical Works of David Gray | |