Poems of James Clarence Mangan (Many hitherto uncollected): Centenary edition: Edited, with preface and notes by D. J. O'Donoghue: Introduction by John Mitchel |
 | I. |
| II. |
 | III. |
|
LAMENTATION OF JEREMIAS OVER JERUSALEM.
|
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
 | Poems of James Clarence Mangan |  |
LAMENTATION OF JEREMIAS OVER JERUSALEM.
(A Paraphrase from Holy Scripture.)
“And it came to pass, after Israel was carried into captivity, and
Jerusalem was desolate, that Jeremias the prophet sat weeping, and
mourned with this lamentation over Jerusalem, and with a sorrowful
mind, sighing and moaning, he said”:—
159
How doth she sit alone,
The city late so thronged; how doth she sit in woe,
Begirt with solitude and graves!
Oh! how is she that from her Temple-throne
Ruled o'er the Gentiles, now become
A widow in her dreary home!
How have her Princes fallen low,
And dwindled into slaves!
The city late so thronged; how doth she sit in woe,
Begirt with solitude and graves!
Oh! how is she that from her Temple-throne
Ruled o'er the Gentiles, now become
A widow in her dreary home!
How have her Princes fallen low,
And dwindled into slaves!
She weepeth all night long,
Forsaken and forgot: her face is dusk with tears;
Her heart is rent with many throes,
Not one of all the once-admiring throng
That sued and wooed her night and morn
But looketh down on her with scorn!
Her fondest friends of other years
Have now become her foes!
Forsaken and forgot: her face is dusk with tears;
Her heart is rent with many throes,
Not one of all the once-admiring throng
That sued and wooed her night and morn
But looketh down on her with scorn!
Her fondest friends of other years
Have now become her foes!
Her dwelling-place is dark:
Her palaces lie waste: she feareth even to pass
Their bass-courts desolate and bare.
She hath become a byword and a mark
Among the nations: lorn and lone,
She seeketh rest and findeth none.
Her persecuting foes, alas!
Have caught her in their snare!
Her palaces lie waste: she feareth even to pass
Their bass-courts desolate and bare.
She hath become a byword and a mark
Among the nations: lorn and lone,
She seeketh rest and findeth none.
Her persecuting foes, alas!
Have caught her in their snare!
Gloom shroudeth Sion's halls
And trodden in the dust lie silver lamp and bowl,
Her golden gates are turned to clay,
Her priests are now the godless Gentiles' thralls.
Her youths walk wan and sorrow-worn;
Her silent virgins droop and mourn.
In hopeless bitterness of soul
She sigheth all the day!
And trodden in the dust lie silver lamp and bowl,
Her golden gates are turned to clay,
Her priests are now the godless Gentiles' thralls.
Her youths walk wan and sorrow-worn;
Her silent virgins droop and mourn.
In hopeless bitterness of soul
She sigheth all the day!
160
Behold the sad Bereaven!
Her enemies have grown to be her pitiless lords,
And mock her in her sore disgrace!
Her sins have risen in black array to Heaven;
Therefore the Lord Jehovah hath
Rained on her head His chastening wrath;
Therefore her sons go bound with cords
Before the oppressor's face!
Her enemies have grown to be her pitiless lords,
And mock her in her sore disgrace!
Her sins have risen in black array to Heaven;
Therefore the Lord Jehovah hath
Rained on her head His chastening wrath;
Therefore her sons go bound with cords
Before the oppressor's face!
How hath her glory fled!
The beauty is out-blotted as a fallen star
Of her that whilom looked so fair!
Her stricken Princes cower for shame and dread!
Like wandering sheep, that seek in vain
Their pasture ground o'er hill and plain,
They stray abroad, they flee afar,
Guideless, and in despair!
The beauty is out-blotted as a fallen star
Of her that whilom looked so fair!
Her stricken Princes cower for shame and dread!
Like wandering sheep, that seek in vain
Their pasture ground o'er hill and plain,
They stray abroad, they flee afar,
Guideless, and in despair!
Oh! lost Jerusalem
Where now be her mad hours of wantonness and wine?
Her leprousness is on her hands,
So lately prankt with pearl and golden gem!
A captive Queen she sits, cast down
From Heaven to Earth, without her crown!
O Lord, my God, what grief is mine
To see her thus in bands!
Where now be her mad hours of wantonness and wine?
Her leprousness is on her hands,
So lately prankt with pearl and golden gem!
A captive Queen she sits, cast down
From Heaven to Earth, without her crown!
O Lord, my God, what grief is mine
To see her thus in bands!
She lieth overthrown,
Smitten of Thee, O Lord! and shrinking in her fear
Before the alien Gentile powers,
Since Thou hast cast away Thy Church, Thine own!
They violate her sanctuary,
Of whom command was given by Thee,
That they should ne'er adventure near
Her Temple and its towers!
Smitten of Thee, O Lord! and shrinking in her fear
Before the alien Gentile powers,
Since Thou hast cast away Thy Church, Thine own!
They violate her sanctuary,
Of whom command was given by Thee,
That they should ne'er adventure near
Her Temple and its towers!
161
Woe for the fallen Queen!
Her people groan and die, despairful of relief.
They famish and they cry for bread!
No more her nobles walk in silken sheen!
Their gauds and rings, their precious things
Are pawned for food! O God! it wrings
My soul to see it! Through my grief
I lie as one half dead!
Her people groan and die, despairful of relief.
They famish and they cry for bread!
No more her nobles walk in silken sheen!
Their gauds and rings, their precious things
Are pawned for food! O God! it wrings
My soul to see it! Through my grief
I lie as one half dead!
Oh, ye who travel by!
All ye who pass this way, stop short a while, and see
If Earth have sorrow like to mine!
Judea's dark iniquities belie
The faith she vaunteth in her God;
And therefore are her people trod
In dust this day, and men tread me
As treaders tread the wine.
All ye who pass this way, stop short a while, and see
If Earth have sorrow like to mine!
Judea's dark iniquities belie
The faith she vaunteth in her God;
And therefore are her people trod
In dust this day, and men tread me
As treaders tread the wine.
O, most mysterious Lord!
From Thine high place in Heaven Thou sendest fire and flame
Into my dry and withered bones!
Thou searchest me as with an angry sword!
Thou spreadest snares aneath my feet!
In vain I pray, in vain entreat,
Thou turnest me away with shame,
And heedest not my groans!
From Thine high place in Heaven Thou sendest fire and flame
Into my dry and withered bones!
Thou searchest me as with an angry sword!
Thou spreadest snares aneath my feet!
In vain I pray, in vain entreat,
Thou turnest me away with shame,
And heedest not my groans!
Thus waileth she aloud,
The God-forsaken one, in this her day of dole:—
“My spirit faileth me; mine eyes
Are filmèd o'er with mist; my neck is bowed
Beneath a yoke the livelong day,
And there doth lie a weight alway,
An iron hand, on my spent soul,
That will not let it rise!
The God-forsaken one, in this her day of dole:—
“My spirit faileth me; mine eyes
Are filmèd o'er with mist; my neck is bowed
Beneath a yoke the livelong day,
And there doth lie a weight alway,
An iron hand, on my spent soul,
That will not let it rise!
162
“The Lord, the Lord is just!
His wrath is kindled fierce against me for my ways.
I have provoked the Lord, my God,
Therefore I make my darkling bed in dust.
Pity me, ye who see me, all!
Pity my sons, who pine in thrall!
Their spirit wastes, their strength decays,
Under the Gentile's rod.
His wrath is kindled fierce against me for my ways.
I have provoked the Lord, my God,
Therefore I make my darkling bed in dust.
Pity me, ye who see me, all!
Pity my sons, who pine in thrall!
Their spirit wastes, their strength decays,
Under the Gentile's rod.
“I sought my friends to tell
The story of my woes; alas! they would not hear!
Disease drank up my princes' blood,
For Famine's hand lay black on them as well.
My priests, too, fainted on their feet;
They feebly crawled from street to street,
Seeking all day, afar and near,
A morsel of coarse food!
The story of my woes; alas! they would not hear!
Disease drank up my princes' blood,
For Famine's hand lay black on them as well.
My priests, too, fainted on their feet;
They feebly crawled from street to street,
Seeking all day, afar and near,
A morsel of coarse food!
“Behold, O Lord!—behold!
Behold my wretchedness! For I am overcome
By suffering—almost by despair!
My heart is torn with agonies untold!
The land expires beneath Thy frown;
Abroad the red sword striketh down
Its tens of thousands; and at home
Death reigneth everywhere!
Behold my wretchedness! For I am overcome
By suffering—almost by despair!
My heart is torn with agonies untold!
The land expires beneath Thy frown;
Abroad the red sword striketh down
Its tens of thousands; and at home
Death reigneth everywhere!
“My groanings are not hid.
All they who hated me regard me with disdain!
They see the darkness of my face,
And mock it, for they know Thou hast forbid
My nearest friends to help me now.
But Thou wilt yet avenge me, Thou!
They shall lie low where I have lain
Who scoff at my disgrace!
All they who hated me regard me with disdain!
They see the darkness of my face,
And mock it, for they know Thou hast forbid
My nearest friends to help me now.
But Thou wilt yet avenge me, Thou!
They shall lie low where I have lain
Who scoff at my disgrace!
163
“Then shall their evil fall
On their own heads—for still 'tis evil in Thy sight,
And they shall mourn as now I mourn;
And Thou, Lord, shalt make vintage of them all,
And tread them down even as they see
Thou, for my sins, hast trodden me,
They who to-day deride and slight
The afflictions I have borne!”
On their own heads—for still 'tis evil in Thy sight,
And they shall mourn as now I mourn;
And Thou, Lord, shalt make vintage of them all,
And tread them down even as they see
Thou, for my sins, hast trodden me,
They who to-day deride and slight
The afflictions I have borne!”
| Poems of James Clarence Mangan | |