351.
[The Saviour weeps! behold the tear]
Christ weeping over Jerusalem.
Luke xix. 41
1
The Saviour weeps! behold the tear,
In silence, falling to the ground!
Is there some dread convulsion near,
That must th' impenitent confound?
Its grandeur soon to be laid low,
He weeps for Salem's overthrow!
2
Jerusalem! Jerusalem!
In all thy pomp and power array'd,
He sees thy boasted diadem
Rent from thy head, and prostrate laid;
Thy temple, famed of every land,
Uprooted by the Waster's hand!
3
He views, in his prophetic glance,
Mourning and woe succeed to joy;
Armies, in long array, advance
The murderous city to destroy!
Memorial to the after age,
How men, with God, the warfare wage!
4
Was it, alone, for sculptured tower,
For pinnacles, in pride austere,
Approaching to their final hour,
For which the Saviour shed the tear?
Far deeper ills his thought recalls
Than shatter'd turrets, crumbling walls.
5
The spoil, the ruin, last and worst,
Before his cloudless vision spread!
He saw the spot, of heaven accurs'd!
Wrath resting on that people's head
Who heard his warnings with disdain,
Who had so many prophets slain!
6
The pitying voice his heart reveals!
He cries, with Israel full in view,
“Even as a hen her brood conceals,
“How often had I gather'd you!
“But death you love, and truth you hate,
“And now, your house is desolate!”
7
He heard the imprecation dire,
“On us, and ours, thine anger spend!”
He knew that hope must soon expire,
Vengeance in crushing weight descend!
The Besom of Destruction sweep!
And therefore did the Saviour weep!
