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VIII.

Thy guiding hand a little further on!
What visionary shapes now fill the gloom,
Of more than earthly wisdom, tho' in grief
O'er earthly things they hang their drooping form?
And who art thou with robes all rudely rent,
Sitting beneath the lofty Lebanon,
Thy realm a waste, and Solitude thy throne?
Daughter of Salem, from what tower of strength
Descending, sitt'st thou at the gate of Death?
And can our God cast off his own elect?
Desolate Judah, lesson sad to us!

131

Desolate Judah, sitting on the ground!
O thou, but little mid the nations known
In arts or arms, (emblem of Hope divine
By man despis'd,) O thou, but little known
In arts or arms, but better known of God,
And could not this content thee, little one?
Euphrates' bank, and Chebar's distant flood,
Have echoed to thy Jordan's deep lament.
Now all is vocal with prophetic strains,
And Lebanon and Carmel find a voice,
Kingdoms their mighty shadows cast before
Going to ruin—Tyre, and Nineveh,
And Babylon. Behind the fleeting scene
Stern Retribution sits, and holds the scale,
Where empires all are weigh'd, while rebel Pride
With meteor lamp leads on to dusky Death.
Meanwhile, as flows the stream of mortal things,
There riseth up the mist of human woes,
And, lo, that mist is skirted with the gleam
Which harbingers the slowly-rising morn,
And brightens more and more, as darker grows
The gather'd cloud, until effulgent made
With rays prophetic purpling all the dawn,
It doth disclose the Sun of Righteousness,
Streaming in light o'er the dim vale of life,
And hills of immortality afar.