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And is she dead -and did they dare
Obey my phrensy's jealous raving ? My wrath but doomd my own despair :
The sword that smote her 's o'er me waving.But thou art cold, my murdered love!
And this dark heart is vainly craving For her who soars alone above,
And leaves my soul unworthy saving.
who shared my diadem; She sunk, with her my joys entombing ; I swept that flower from Judah’s stem
Whose leaves for me alone were blooming. And mine's the guilt, and mine the hell,
This bosom's desolation dooming; And I have earn'd those tortures well,
Which unconsumed are still consuming !
ON THE DAY OF THE DESTRUCTION OF
JERUSALEM BY TITUS.
From the last hill that looks on thy once holy dome
I look'd for thy temple, I look'd for my home,
many an eve, the high spot whence I gazed Had reflected the last beam of day as it blazed ; While I stood on the height, and beheld the decliue Of the rays from the mountain that shone on thy shrine.
And now on that mountain I stood on that day,
BY THE RIVERS OF BABYLON WE SAT
DOWN AND WEPT.
Wersate down and wept by the waters
Of Babel, and thought of the day
Made Salem's high places his prey ;
Were scattered all weeping away.
II. While sadly we gazed on the river
Which rollid on in freedom below, They demanded the song; but, oh never
That triumph the stranger shall know! May this right hand be withered for ever,
Ere it string our high harp for the foe!