As though the warmth that breath'd from out their The darkness of my father's soul? Thou knowest
Had some refreshment for their wither'd lips.
We bared our swords to slay: but subtle John
Snatch'd the food from her, trod it on the ground,
And mock'd her.
But thou didst not smite her, father?
No! we were wiser than to bless with death A wretch like her.
But I must seek within,
If he that oft at dead of midnight placeth The wine and fruit within our chosen house, Hath minister'd this night to Israel's chief. MIRIAM, SALONE.
Oh, Miriam! I dare not tell him now!
For even as those two infants lay together
Nestling their sleeping faces on each other,
Even so have we two lain, and I have felt
Thy breath upon my face, and every motion
Of thy soft bosom answering to mine own.
SIMON, SALONE, MIRIAM.
ughters, I have wash'd my bloody hands, ay prayers, and we will eat-And thee
In what strong bondage Zeal and ancient Faith,
Passion and stubborn Custom, and fierce Pride,
Hold th' heart of man. Thou knowest. Merciful!
That knowest all things, and dost ever turn
Thine eye of pity on our guilty nature.
For thou wert born of woman! thou didst come,
Oh Holiest to this world of sin and gloom,
Not in thy dread omnipotent array;
And not by thunders strew'd
Was thy tempestuous road;
Nor indignation burnt before thee on thy way.
But thee, a soft and naked child,
Thy mother undefiled,
In the rude manger laid to rest
From off her virgin breast.
The heavens were not commanded to prepare
A gorgeous canopy of golden air;
Nor stoop'd their lamps th' enthroned fires on high: A single silent star
Came wandering from afar,
Gliding uncheck'd and calm along the liquid sky; The Eastern Sages leading on
As at a kingly throne,
To lay their gold and odours sweet Before thy infant feet.
The Earth and Ocean were not hush'd to hear
Bright harmony from every starry sphere;
Nor at thy presence brake the voice of song
From all the cherub choirs,
And seraphs' burning lyres
As rushing fire, and terrible as the wind
That sweeps the tentless desert-Ye that move
Shrouded in secresy as in a robe,
And gloom of deepest midnight the vaunt-courier
Of your dread presence! Will ye not reveal?
Pour'd thro' the host of heaven the charmed clouds Will ye not one compassionate glimpse vouchsafe
One angel troop the strain began,
Of all the race of man
The simple shepherds heard alone,
That soft Hosanna's tone.
And when thou didst depart, no car of flame
To bear thee hence in lambent radiance came;
By what dark instruments 't is now your charge
To save the holy city?-Lord of Israel!
Thee too I ask, with bold yet holy awe,
Which now of thy obsequious elements
Choosest thou for thy champion and thy combatant?
For well they know, the wide and deluging Waters,
The ravenous Fire, and the plague-breathing Air,
Yea, and the yawning and wide-chasm'd Earth,
Nor visible Angels mourn'd with drooping plumes: They know thy bidding, by fix'd habit bound
Nor didst thou mount on high
To the usage of obedience. Or the rather,
Look we in weary yet undaunted hope
With all thine own redeem'd outbursting from their For Him that is to come, the Mighty Arm,
For thou didst bear away from earth
But one of human birth,
The dying felon by thy side, to be
In Paradise with thee.
Nor o'er thy cross the clouds of vengeance brake;
A little while the conscious earth did shake
At that foul deed by her fierce children done;
A few dim hours of day
The world in darkness lay;
Then bask'd in bright repose beneath the cloudless sun:
While thou didst sleep beneath the tomb,
Consenting to thy doom;
Ere yet the white-robed Angel shone
Upon the sealed stone.
And when thou didst arise, thou didst not stand
With Devastation in thy red right hand,
Plaguing the guilty city's murtherous crew;
But thou didst haste to meet
Thy mother's coming feet,
And bear the words of peace unto the faithful few.
Then calmly, slowly didst thou rise
Into thy native skies,
Thy human form dissolved on high
In its own radiancy.
The House of Simon-Break of Day.
The air is still and cool. It comes not yet:
I thought that I had felt it in my sleep
Weighing upon my choked and labouring breast,
That did rejoice beneath the stern oppression;
I thought I saw its lurid gloom o'erspreading
The starless waning night. Bu yet it comes not,
The broad and sultry thunder-cloud, wherein
The God of Israel evermore pavilions
The chariot of his vengeance. I look out,
And still, as I have seen, morn after morn,
The hills of Judah flash upon my sight
The accursed radiance of the Gentile arms.
But oh! ye sky-descending ministers,
That on invisible and soundless wing
Stoop to your earthly purposes, as swift
The Wearer of the purple robe of vengeance,
The Crowned with dominion! Let him haste;
The wine-press waits the trampling of his wrath,
And Judah yearns t' unfurl the Lion banner
Before the terrible radiance of his coming.
SIMON, JOHN, ELEAZAR, the HIGH-PRIEST, AMARIAH,
etc. etc.
How, Simon! have we broken on thy privacy!
Now, Eleazar, were not holy Simon,
Thou wert discoursing with the spirits of air.
The just, the merciful, the righteous Simon,
A vessel meet for the prophetic trance?
Methinks 't is on him now!
Ha! John of Galilee,
Still in the taunting vein? Reservest thou not
The bitter overflowings of thy lips
For yon fierce Gentiles ?-But I will endure.
And then perchance 't will please the saintly Simon,
When he hath mumbled o'er his two-hour prayers,
That we do ope our gates and sally forth
To combat the uncircumcised-
Fall on me as the thin and scattering rain
Upon our Temple. If thou art here to urge
That, with confederate valiant resolution,
We burst upon the enemies of Jerusalem;
The thunder followeth not the lightning's flash
More swiftly than my warlike execution
Shall follow the fierce trumpet of thy wrath!
But hast thou ponder'd well, if still there be not
Some holy fast, new moon, or rigid sabbath,
Which may excuse a tame and coward peace
For one day longer to yon men of Edom?
Oh! 't is unwise, ye sworded delegates
Of him who watcheth o'er Jerusalem,
Thus day by day in angry quarrel meeting
To glare upon each other, and to waste
In civil strife the blood that might preserve us
The Roman conquers, but by Jewish arms.
The torrent, that in one broad channel rolling
Bears down the labour'd obstacles of man,
The o'erstriding bridge, the fix'd and ponderous dam,
Being sever'd, in its lazy separate course
Suffers control, and stagnates to its end.
And so ye fall, because ye do disdain
To stand together-like the pines of Lebanon,
That when in one vast wood they crown the hill,
From their proud heads shake off the uninjuring tem-
pest;
But when their single trunks stand bare and naked
Before the rushing whirlwind, one by one
It hurls the uprooted trunks into the vale.
ELEAZAR (apart).
Curse on his words of peace! fall John, fall Simon,
There falls an enemy of Eleazar.
That know'st not the deep luxury of scorn.
We'll meet them, Simon, but to scoff at them;
We'll dally with their hopes of base surrender,
Then mock them, till their haughty captain writhe
Beneath the keen and biting contumely.
Now, Eleazar, lead the way; brave Simon,
I follow thee-Come, men of Israel, come.
Below-TITUS, Roman Army, JOSEPH of Jotapata, etc
Above-SIMON, JOHN, ELEAZAR, AMARIAH, Jews.
Men of Jerusalem! whose hardy zeal
And valiant patience in a cause less desperate
Might force the foe to reverence and admire ;
Now, John of Galilee, the High-Priest speaks wisely. To you thus speaks again the Queen of Earth,
Why, ay, it is the privilege of their office,
The solemn grave distinction of their ephod.
Even such discourse as this, so calm, so sage,
Did old Mathias hold; (9) and therefore Simon,
Unwilling that the vantage of his wisdom
Should rob our valour of its boasted fame,
Did slay him with his sons upon our wall!
Peace, son of Belial! or I'll scourge thee back
To the harlot chambers of thy loose adulteries.
I slew my foe, and where's the armed man
That will behold his enemy at his feet,
And spare to set his foot upon his neck?
All-conquering Rome!-whose kingdom is, where'er
The sunshine beams on living men; beneath
The shadow of whose throne the world reposes,
And glories in being subjected to her,
Even as 't is subject to the immortal gods-
To you, whose mad and mutinous revolt
Hath harrow'd all your rich and pleasant land
With fiery rapine: sunk your lofty cities
To desolate heaps of monumental ashes;
Yet with that patience, which becomes the mighty,
The endurance of the lion, that disdains
The foe whose conquest bears no glory with it,
Rome doth command you to lay down your arms,
And bow the high front of your proud rebellion
The sword was given, and shall the sword not slay? Even to the common level of obedience,
Break off! break off! I hear the Gentile horn
Winding along the wide entrenched line.
Hear ye it not? hill answers hill, the valleys
In their deep channels lengthen out the sound.
It rushes down Jehoshaphat, the depths
Of Hinnom answer. Hark! again they blow,
Chiding you, men of Judah, and insulting
Your bare and vacant walls, that now oppose not
Their firm array of javelin-hurling men,
Slingers, and pourers of the liquid fire.
That holds the rest of of human kind. So doing,
Ye cancel all the dark and guilty past:
Silent Oblivion waits to wipe away
The record of your madness and your crimes;
And in the stead of bloody Vengeance claiming
Her penal due of torture, chains, and death,
Comes reconciling Mercy.
With what a humble and a modest truth
Thou dost commend thy unpresuming virtues!
Ye want not testimonies to your mildness—(10)
Blow! blow! and rend the heavens, thou deep-voiced There, on yon lofty crosses, which surround us,
To hear about his silken couch of feasting
Amid his pamper'd parasites.-I speak to thee,
Titus, as warrior should accost a warrior.
The world, thou boastest, is Rome's slave; the sun
Rises and sets upon no realm but yours;
Ye plant your giant foot in either ocean,
And vaunt that all which ye o'erstride is Rome's.
But think ye, that because the common earth
Surfeits your pride with homage, that our land,
Our separate, peculiar, sacred land,
Portion'd and seal'd unto us by the God
Your trumpets, as when Jericho of old
Cast down its prostrate walls at Joshua's feet!
Let the Jew speak, the captive of Jotapata;
Haply they'll reverence one, and him the bravest,
Of their own kindred.
See! he speaks to them; And they do listen, though their menacing brows Lower with a darker and more furious hate. JOSEPH.
Who made the round world and the crystal hea- Yet, yet a little while-ye see me rise,
A wondrous land, where Nature's common course
Is strange and out of use, so oft the Lord
Invades it with miraculous intervention;
Think ye this land shall be an Heathen heritage,
An high place for your Moloch? Haughty Gentile,
Even now ye walk on ruin and on prodigy.
The air ye breathe is heavy and o'ercharged
With your dark gathering doom; and if our earth
Do yet in its disdain endure the footing
Of your arm'd legions, 't is because it labours
With silent throes of expectation, waiting
The signal of your scattering. Lo! the mountains
Bend o'er you with their huge and lowering shadows,
Ready to rush and overwhelm: the winds
Do listen panting for the tardy presence
Of Him that shall avenge. And there is scorn,
Yea, there is laughter in our fathers' tombs,
To think that Heathen conqueror doth aspire
To lord it over God's Jerusalem!
Yea, in Hell's deep and desolate abode,
Where dwell the perish'd kings, the chief of earth;
They whose idolatrous warfare erst assail'd
The Holy City, and the chosen people;
They wait for thee, the associate of their hopes
And fatal fall, to join their ruin'd conclave.
He whom the Red Sea 'whelm'd with all his host,
Pharaoh, the Egyptian; and the kings of Canaan;
The Philistine, the Dagon worshipper;
Moab, and Edom, and fierce Amalek;
And he of Babylon, whose multitudes,
Oh, men of Israel, brethren, countrymen!
Even from the earth ye see me rise, where lone,
And sorrowful, and fasting, I have sate
These three long days; sad sackcloth on the limbs
Which once were wont to wear a soldier's raiment,
And ashes on the head. which ye of old
Did honour, when its helmed glories shone
Before you in the paths of battle. Hear me,
Ye that, as I, adore the Law, the Prophets;
And at the ineffable thrice-holiest name
Bow down your awe-struck foreheads to the ground.
I am not here to tell you, men of Israel,
That it is madness to contend with Rome;
That it were wisdom to submit and follow
The common fortunes of the universe;
For ye would answer, that 't is glorious madness
To stand alone, amid the enslaved world.
Freedom's last desperate champions: ye would an-
That the slave's wisdom to the free-born man
Is basest folly. Oh, my countrymen!
Before no earthly king do I command you
To fall subservient, not all-conquering Cæsar,
But in a mightier name I summon you,
The King of Kings! He, he is manifest
In the dark visitation that is on you.
"Tis He, whose loosed and raging ministers,
Wild War, gaunt Famine, leprous Pestilence,
But execute his delegated wrath.
Yea, by the fulness of your crimes, 't is He.
Alas! shall I weep o'er thee, or go down
Even on the hills where gleam your myriad spears, (11) And grovel in the dust, and hide myself
In one brief night the invisible Angel swept
With the dark, noiseless shadow of his wing,
And morn beheld the fierce and riotous camp
One cold, and mute, and tombless cemetery,
Sennacherib: all, all are risen, are moved;
Yea, they take up the taunting song of welcome
To him who, like themselves, hath madly warr'd
'Gainst Zion's walls, and miserably fallen
Before the avenging God of Israel!
Oh, holy Simon! Oh, prophetic Simon!
Lead thou, lead thou against the Gentile host,
And we will ask no angel breath to blast them.
The valour of her children soon shall scatter
The spoiler from the rescued walls of Salem,
Even till the wolves of Palestine are glutted
With Roman carnage.
From mine own shame? Oh, thou defiled Jerusalem! That drinkest thine own blood as from a fountain; That hast piled up the fabric of thy guilt
To such portentous height, that earth is darken'd With its huge shadow- that dost hoast the monu
Of murder'd prophets, and dost make the robes
Of God's High-priest a title and a claim
To bloodiest slaughter-thou that every uav
Dost trample down the thunder-given Law,
Even with the pride and joy of him that treads
The purple vintage-And oh thou, our Temple!
That wert of old the Beauty of Holiness,
The chosen, unapproachable abode
Of Him which dwelt between the cherubim,
Thou art a charnel-house, and sepulchre
Of slaughter'd men, a common butchery
Of civil strife;-and hence proclaim I, brethren,
It is the Lord who doth avenge his own:
The Lord, who gives you over to the wicked,
That ye may perish by their wickedness.
In the stern deeds of valiant men, that war
To save that Temple from the dust.
I mount my throne, and here I sit the queen
Of the majestic tumult that beneath me
Is maddening into conflict. Lo! I bind
Oh! ye that do disdain to be Rome's slaves, And yet are sold unto a baser bondage, One that, like iron, eats into your souls. Robbers, and Zealots, and wild Edomites! Yea, these are they that sit in Moses' seat, Wield Joshua's sword, and fill the throne of David; Now flash the bright sun from your gleaming arms, Yea, these are they
I'll hear no more-the foe
Claims from our lips the privilege of reply.
Here is our answer to the renegade,
A javelin to his pale and coward heart! (12)
I am struck, but not to death! that yet is wanting
To Israel's guilt.
Well hast thou spoken! well hast thou replied!
Lead-lead-we 'll follow noble Amariah!
Now, Mercy, to the winds! I cast thee off-
My soul's forbidden luxury, I abjure thee!
Thou much-abused attribute of gods
And godlike men.
And now, whate'er thou art, thou unseen prompter!
That in the secret chambers of my soul
Darkly abidest, and hast still rebuked
"T was nature's final struggle;
The soft compunctious weakness of mine heart,
I here surrender thee myself. Now wield me
Thine instrument of havoc and of horror,
Thine to the extremest limits of revenge;
Till not a single stone of yon proud city
Remain; and even the vestiges of ruin
Be utterly blotted from the face of earth!
Streets of Jerusalem near the Inner Wall.
MIRIAM, SALONE.
Sweet sister, whither in such haste?
My dark locks, that they spread not o'er my sight.
Shake it in broad sheets from your banner folds,
Mine eyes will still endure the blaze, and pierce
The thickest.
And thou hast no tears to blind thee?
SALONE.
Behold! behold! from Olivet they pour,
Thousands on thousands, in their martial order.
Kedron's dark valley, like Gennesareth,
When over it the cold moon shines through storms,
Topping its dark waves with uncertain light,
Is tossing with wild plumes and gleaming spears.
Solemnly the stern lictors move, and brandish
Their rod-bound axes; and the eagles seem
With wings dispread, to watch their time for swoop-
ing!
The towers are moving on; and lo! the engines,
As though instinct with life, come heavily labouring
Upon their ponderous wheels; they nod destruction
Against our walls. Lo! lo, our gates fly open:
There Eleazar-there the mighty John-
Ben Cathla there, and Edom's crested sons.
Oh! what a blaze of glory gathers round them!
How proudly move they in invincible strength!
And know'st thou not Lo! lo! the war hath broken off to admire him!
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