The poetical works of Robert Stephen Hawker Edited from the original manuscripts and annotated copies together with a prefatory notice and bibliography by Alfred Wallis |
 |
THE EXILE'S TEXT |
 |
 | The poetical works of Robert Stephen Hawker |  |
THE EXILE'S TEXT
Weep ye not for the dead: they sleep
In hallowed slumbers, calm and deep;
Their bed, the scenery of their birth,
The dust around them, Hebrew earth!
In hallowed slumbers, calm and deep;
Their bed, the scenery of their birth,
The dust around them, Hebrew earth!
They cease—and yet bemoan them not:
Their tombs are in the blessèd spot
Where hearth, and home, and altar stand,
With Aaron's shrine and Judah's land!
Their tombs are in the blessèd spot
Where hearth, and home, and altar stand,
With Aaron's shrine and Judah's land!
But weep ye sore for us: we go
Where rivers of the stranger flow,
And Gentile winds must bear along
The Lord's—the God of Jacob's song!
Where rivers of the stranger flow,
And Gentile winds must bear along
The Lord's—the God of Jacob's song!
58
We travel to the graves unknown—
To die, in cities not our own;
False feet our sepulchres will tread,
A breathing nation of the dead.
To die, in cities not our own;
False feet our sepulchres will tread,
A breathing nation of the dead.
Bel's loathsome land! and Nebo's sky!
Our flesh will shudder where we lie;—
Bone to his bone will cleave and creep
From the vile earth around our sleep.
Our flesh will shudder where we lie;—
Bone to his bone will cleave and creep
From the vile earth around our sleep.
But they—the dead by Jordan's stream—
They hear those waters where they dream:
The floods that fall by Abraham's cave,
And Rachel's tomb, and Isaac's grave!
They hear those waters where they dream:
The floods that fall by Abraham's cave,
And Rachel's tomb, and Isaac's grave!
Then mourn ye not for them: their sleep
Is pure and blessed, calm and deep;
But grieve, yea, grieve for us: we go
Where rivers of the stranger flow!
Is pure and blessed, calm and deep;
But grieve, yea, grieve for us: we go
Where rivers of the stranger flow!
No more! no more! oh, never more
The hills, the trees, the ocean-shore!
Ah! Salem, Gilead, Lebanon,
The Lord, the Lord your God, is gone!
The hills, the trees, the ocean-shore!
Ah! Salem, Gilead, Lebanon,
The Lord, the Lord your God, is gone!
| The poetical works of Robert Stephen Hawker | |