 | Miscellaneous Poems |  |
69
Korah, Dathan, and Abiram.
Dathan and Abiram.
“How long endure this priestly scorn,Ye sons of Israel's eldest born?
Shall two, the meanest of their tribe,
To the Lord's host the way prescribe,
And feed our wildering phantasy
With every soothing dream and lie
Their craft can coin? We see our woe,
Lost Egypt's plenty well we know:
But where the milk and honey?—where
The promised fields and vineyards fair?
Lo! wise of heart and keen of sight
Are these—ye cannot blind them quite—
Not as our sires are we: we fear not open light.”
70
Korah.
“And we too, Levites though we be,
We love the song of liberty.
Did we not hear the Mountain Voice
Proclaim the Lord's impartial choice?
The camp is holy, great and small,
Levites and Danites, one and all;
Our God His home in all will make.—
What if no priestly finger strake
Or blood or oil o'er robe or brow,
Will He not hear His people's vow?
Lord of all Earth, will He no sign
Grant but to Aaron's haughty line?
Our censers are as yours: we dare you to the shrine.”
We love the song of liberty.
Did we not hear the Mountain Voice
Proclaim the Lord's impartial choice?
The camp is holy, great and small,
Levites and Danites, one and all;
Our God His home in all will make.—
What if no priestly finger strake
Or blood or oil o'er robe or brow,
Will He not hear His people's vow?
Lord of all Earth, will He no sign
Grant but to Aaron's haughty line?
Our censers are as yours: we dare you to the shrine.”
Thus spake the proud at prime of morn;
Where was their place at eve? Ye know
Rocks of the wild in sunder torn,
And altars scath'd with fires of woe!
Earth heard and sank, and they were gone;
Only their dismal parting groan
The shuddering ear long time will haunt.
Thus rebels fare: but ye profane,
Who dared th' anointing Power disdain
For freedom's rude unpriestly vaunt,
Dire is the fame for you in store:
Your molten censers evermore
Th' atoning altar must inlay;
Memorial to the kneeling quires
That Mercy's God hath judgment fires
For high-voiced Korahs in their day.
Where was their place at eve? Ye know
Rocks of the wild in sunder torn,
And altars scath'd with fires of woe!
Earth heard and sank, and they were gone;
Only their dismal parting groan
The shuddering ear long time will haunt.
71
Who dared th' anointing Power disdain
For freedom's rude unpriestly vaunt,
Dire is the fame for you in store:
Your molten censers evermore
Th' atoning altar must inlay;
Memorial to the kneeling quires
That Mercy's God hath judgment fires
For high-voiced Korahs in their day.
| Miscellaneous Poems | |