The awe-struck shout of the unboasting conqueror. Hark-hark!

It breaks-it severs-it is on the earth.

The smother'd fires are quench'd in their own ruins:
Like a huge dome, the vast and cloudy smoke
Hath cover'd all.

And it is now no more,
Nor ever shall be to the end of time,
The Temple of Jerusalem!-Fall down,
My brethren, on the dust, and worship here
The mysteries of God's wrath.

Even so shall perish,
In its own ashes, a most glorious Temple,
Yea, God's own architecture, this vast world,
This fated universe-the same destroyer,
The same destruction-Earth, Earth, Earth, behold!
And in that judgment look upon thine own!

HYMN.

Even thus amid thy pride and luxury,

Oh Earth! shall that last coming burst on thee,
That secret coming of the Son of Man,
When all the cherub-throning clouds shall shine,
Irradiate with his bright advancing sign:

When that Great Husbandman shall wave his fan, Sweeping, like chaff, thy wealth and pomp away: Still to the noontide of that nightless day,

Shalt thou thy wonted dissolute course maintain.
Along the busy mart and crowded street,
The buyer and the seller still shall meet,

And marriage feasts begin their jocund strain:
Still to the pouring out the Cup of Woe;
Till Earth, a drunkard, reeling to and fro,
And mountains molten by his burning feet,

And Heaven his presence own, all red with furnace heat.

The hundred-gated Cities then,
The Towers and Temples, named of men
Eternal, and the Thrones of Kings;
The gilded summer Palaces,

The courtly bowers of love and ease.
Where still the Bird of pleasure sings;
Ask

ye the destiny of them?

Go gaze on fallen Jerusalem!

Yea, mightier names are in the fatal roll,

'Gainst earth and heaven God's standard is unfurl'd, The skies are shrivell'd like a burning scroll, And the vast common doom ensepulchres the world

Oh! who shall then survive?

Oh! who shall stand and live?

When all that hath been, is no more:
When for the round earth hung in air,
With all its constellations fair

In the sky's azure canopy;

When for the breathing Earth, and sparkling Sea,
Is but a fiery deluge without shore,
Heaving along the abyss profound and dark.
A fiery deluge, and without an Ark.

Lord of all power, when thou art there alone
On thy eternal fiery-wheeled throne,
That in its high meridian noon

Needs not the perish'd sun hor moon:
When thou art there in thy presiding state,
Wide-sceptred Monarch o'er the realm of doom:
When from the sea-depths, from earth's darkest
womb,

The dead of all the ages round thee wait:
And when the tribes of wickedness are strewn

Like forest leaves in the autumn of thine ire:
Faithful and True! thou still wilt save thine own!
The Saints shall dwell within th' unharming fire,
Each white robe spotless, blooming every palm.
Even safe as we, by this still fountain's side,
So shall the Church, thy bright and mystic Bride,
Sit on the stormy gulf a halcyon bird of calm.
Yes, 'mid yon angry and destroying signs,
O'er us the rainbow of thy mercy shines,
We hail, we bless the covenant of its beam,
Almighty to avenge, Almightiest to redeem!

NOTES.

Note 1.

Advance the eagles, Caius Placidus.

Placidus, though not expressly mentioned as one of the Roman generals engaged, had a command previously in Syria.

Note 2.

A mount of snow fretted with golden pinnacles! Τοῖς γε μὴν εἰσαφικνουμένοις ξένοις, πόρρωθεν ὅμοιος ὄρει χιόνος πλήρει κατεφαίνετο, καὶ γαρ καθὰ μὴ κεχρυ OWTO XEUKÓTATOS v. JOSEPHUS, lib. v. c. 5. See the whole description.

Note 3.

Thy brethren of the Porch, imperial Titus. Mr. Reginald Heber's "Stoic tyrant's philosophic

pride" will occur to the memory at least of academic readers

Note 4.

Let this night

Our wide encircling walls complete their circuit. "The days shall come upon thee when thine enemies shall cast a trench about thee, and compass thee round, and keep thee in on every side." LUKE, xix, 43. For the remarkable and perfect completion of this prophecy, see the description of the wall built by Titus. JOSEPHUS, lib. v, ch. 12.

Note 5.

I should give to the flame Whate'er opposed the sovereign sway of Cæsar. Terentius, or Turnus Rufus, is marked with singular detestation in the Jewish traditions.

Note 6.

Sweet fountain, once again I visit thee! The fountain of Siloe was just without the walls. The upper city, occupied by Simon (JOSEPHUS, v, 6.), ended nearly on a line with the fountain. Though, indeed, Simon had possession of parts also of the lower city. Josephus, v, 1.

Note 7.

Let Gischala, let fallen Jotapata. Gischala and Jota pata, towns before taken by the Romans.

Note 8.

Our bridal songs, etc.

It must be recollected, that the unmarried state was

looked on with peculiar horror by the Jewish maidens. By marriage there was a hope of becoming the mother

of the Messiah.

Note 9.

Did old Mathias hold. Simon put to death Mathias the High Priest and his sons, by whom he had been admitted into the city.

Note 10.

Ye want not testimonies to your mildness.

Titus crucified round the city those who fled from the famine and cruelty of the leaders within.(JOSEPHUS, v, ch. 13.) Sometimes, according to JoSEPHUS, (lib. v, c. 11,) 500 in a day suffered.

Note 11.

Even on the hills where gleam your myriad spears. The camp of Titus comprehended a space called the "Assyrian's Camp."

Note 12.

A javelin to his pale and coward heart! Josephus gives more than one speech which he addressed to his countrymen. They only mocked and once wounded him.

Note 13.

Behold, oh Lord! the Heathen tread, etc.

See Psalm 1xxx, 7, etc.

Note 14.

Even in the garb and with the speech of worship.
Went he not up into the very Temple?

This was the mode in which John surprised Eleazar, who before was in possession of the Temple.

Note 15.

There hath be held the palace of his lusts. Γυναικιζόμενοι δὲ τὰς ὄψεις, ἐφόνων ταῖς δεξιαῖς, θρυπτόμενοι δὲ τοῖς βαδίσμασιν, ἐξαπίνης ἐγίνοντο πολε μiorai. JOSEPHUS, lib. iv, c. 9. There is a long passage to the same effect.

No. 16.

And where is now the wine for the bridegroom's rosy cup. In the prophecy of our Saviour concerning the destruction of Jerusalem and that of the world, it is said that "as in the days of Noe, they shall marry and be given in marriage."-MATTHEW, XXIV.

Note 17.

That when the signs are manifest.

The prodigies are related by Josephus in a magnificent page of historic description.

Note 18.

To the sound of timbrels sweet.

The bridal ceremonies are from Calmet, Harmer, and other illustrators of scripture. It is a singular tradition that the use of the crowns was discontinued, after the fall of Jerusalem. A few peculiarities are adopted from an account of a Maronite wedding in Harmer.

Note 19.

The tender and the delicate of women. "The tender and delicate woman among you, which would not adventure to set the sole of her foot upon the ground for delicateness and tenderness, her eye shall be evil toward the husband of her bosom, and toward her son and toward her daughter, and toward her young one that cometh out from between her feet, and toward her children which she shall bear; for she shall eat them for want of all things secretly in the siege and in the straitness, wherewith thine enemy shall distress thee in thy gates." (Deuter. xxvii, 56 and 57.) See also Lamentations, ii. 20. The account of the unnatural mother is detailed in Josephus.

Note 20.

Break into joy, ye barren that ne'er 'ore! "And woe unto them that are with child, and to them that give suck in those days."-MATTHEW Σχίν, 19.

THE BELVIDERE APOLLO:

A PRIZE POEM,

Oft breathless list'ning heard, or seem'd to hear,
A voice of music melt upon her ear.
Slowly she waned, and cold and senseless grown,

MDCCCXII.

HEARD ye the arrow hurtle in the sky?

Heard ye the dragon monster's deathful cry?
In settled majesty of calm disdain,

Proud of his might, yet scornful of the slain,

The heav'nly Archer stands*-no human birth,
No perishable denizen of earth;

Youth blooms immortal in his beardless face,
A God in strength, with more than godlike grace;
All, all divine-no struggling muscle glows,
Through heaving vein no mantling life-blood flows,
But animate with deity alone,

In deathless glory lives the breathing stone.

Bright kindling with a conqueror's stern delight, His keen eye tracks the arrow's fateful flight; Burns his indignant cheek with vengeful fire, And his lip quivers with insulting ire: Firm fix'd his tread, yet light, as when on high He walks th' impalpable and pathless sky : The rich luxuriance of his hair, confined In graceful ringlets, wantons on the wind, That lifts in sport his mantle's drooping fold Proud to display that form of faultless mould.

Mighty Ephesian!† with an eagle's flight Thy proud soul mounted through the fields of light, View'd the bright conclave of Heaven's blest abode, And the cold marble leapt to life a God: Contagious awe through breathless myriads ran, And nations bow'd before the work of man. For mild he seem'd, as in Elysian bowers, Wasting in careless ease the joyous hours; Haughty, as bards have sung, with princely sway Curbing the fierce flame-breathing steeds of day; Beauteous as vision seen in dreamy sleep By holy maid on Delphi's haunted steep, 'Mid the dim twilight of the laurel grove, Too fair to worship, too divine to love.

Yet on that form in wild delirious trance With more than rev'rence gazed the Maid of France, Day after day the love-sick dreamer stood With him alone, nor thought it solitude! To cherish grief, her last, her dearest care, Her one fond hope-to perish of despair. Oft as the shifting light her sight beguiled,

Yet love in death a sickly strength supplied:
Once more she gazed, then feebly smiled and died!

JUDICIUM REGALE,

AN ODE.

I SLEEP, and as in solemn judgment court
Amid a tall imperial city sate,

The sceptred of the world: their legal port

Show'd lords of earth; and as on empires' fate They communed, grave each brow, and front serene, Holy and high their royalty of mien:

Seem'd nor pale passion, nor blind interest base
Within that kingly Sanhedrim had place.

Abroad were sounds as of a storm gone past,
Or midnight on a dismal battle field;
Aye some drear trumpet spake its lonely blast,
Aye in deep distance sad artillery peal'd,
Booming their sullen thunders-then ensued
The majesty of silence-on her throne

Of plain or mountain, listening sate and lone
Each nation to those crowned Peers' decree;
And this wide world of restless beings rude

Lay mute and breathless as a summer sea.

To the Universal Judge, that conclave proud
Their diadem-starr'd foreheads lowly bow'd:
When, at some viewless summoner's stern call,
Uprose in place the Imperial Criminal.
In that wan face nor ancient majesty

Left wither'd splendour dim, nor old renown
Lofty disdain in that sad sunken eye;
No giant ruin even in wreck elate
Frowning dominion o'er imperious fate,
But one to native lowliness cast down.
A sullen, careless desperation gave

The hollow semblance of intrepid grief,
Not that heroic patience, nobly brave,

That even from misery wrings a proud relief; Nor the dark pride of haughty spirits of ill,

That from the towering grandeur of their sin, Wear on the brow triumphant gladness still,

Heedless of racking agony within;

Nor penitence was there, nor pale remorse,
Nor memory of his fall from kingly state,

*The Apollo is in the act of watching the arrow with which he slew the serpent Python.

† Agasias of Ephesus.

Fortune his slave, and Victory his mate.

The foregoing fact is related in the work of M. Pinel sur l'Insanite.

To deeds that dwarf my old majestic fame,
Make BLAKE and MARLBOROUGH languid sound
and tame

TO NELSON and that Chief to whom defeat
Is like an undiscover'd star-hath shown

More than the Macedonian victories vain
To rivet on the earth the Oppressor's chain :
As little will yon Sun's empyrean throne
Endure a mortal seat, as this wide globe

Be one man's appanage; or my fair isle,
That precious gem in ocean's azure robe,
Cast Freedom's banner down, by force or guile
Master'd, and forfeit earth's renown and love,
And her bright visions of high meed above."

Then all at once did from all earth arise

Fierce imprecations on that man of sin;
And all the loaded winds came heavy in
With exultations and with agonies.
From the lone coldness of the widow's bed,
The feverish pillow of the orphan's head,
From dying men earth's woful valleys heaping,
From smouldering cities in their ashes sleeping,
Like the hoarse tumbling of a torrent flood
Mingled the dismal concord-"blood for blood."
But then arose a faded shape and pale,

Once had she been a peerless princely dame;
Downcast her grace of grief; she seem'd to veil
The mournful beauty of her face for shame.
And is this she whose sprightly laughing mirth
Was like the blithe spring on the festal earth;
Aye dancing at the moonlight close of day,
'Mid purple vineyards, graceful, light, and gay;
Or in high pomp and gallant pride of port
Holding rich revel in her gorgeous court?—
Abrupt her speech and wild-" When I 'gan wake
From that my sleep of madness, all around
Of human blood a broad and livid lake

Was in my splendid cities; mound on mound Rose peopled with my noble princely dead : And o'er them the fell anarch, Murther, stood Grimly reposing in his weary mood—

I turn'd, all trembling turn'd, my guilty head: There humankind had leagued their arms of dread 'Gainst the Blasphemer of fair Freedom's name, Heaven gave no hope, for heaven I dared disclaim.

"High in the flaming car of Victory riding, From Alp to Alp his chamois warriors guiding The peril of wild Lodi's arch bestriding,

I saw yon Chieftain in his morn of fame; Cities and armies at his beck sank down, And in the gaudy colours of renown

The fabling Orient vested his young nam. The bright and baleful Meteor I adored, Low bow'd I down, and said-Be thou my Lord!' Like old and ruinous towers, the ancient thrones Crumbled, and dynasties of elder time; The banners of my conquest-plumed sons Flouted the winds of many a distant clime: On necks of vanquish'd kings I fix'd my seat, And the broad Rhine roll'd vassal at my feet.

Thrice did the indignant Nations league their might,
Thrice the red darkness of the battle night
Folded the recreant terror of their flight.
Realms sack'd and ravaged empires sooth'd my toils,
And Satrap Chiefs were Monarchs from my spoils.
In solitude of freedom that rich Queen
Sate in her sanctity of waves serene.

From cliff and beach, dominion in their motion,
I saw her stately navies' broad array,
Like jealous lords at watch, that none but they
Adulterate with their fair majestic ocean.

And cries I heard like frenzy and dismay
Of NELSON, NELSON deepening on their way.
But what to me though red the western deep
With other fires than of the setting sun?
And what to me though round Trafalgar's steep
My haughty pennon'd galleys, one by one,
Come rolling their huge wrecks on the waves' sweep?
Go rule thy brawling and tumultuous sea,
Briton, but leave the servile earth to me.
And what to me though in my dungeons deep

By this new Charlemagne dark deeds were done→→ Will the stones start and babble to the sun How that bold Briton Wright, and Pichegru sleep?

At noon of night I heard the drum of death,
Like evil spirits on the blasted heath

By the drear torchlight iron men were met.
The mockery of justice soon was past;

Again the drum its dismal warning beat: Then flashing musquets deathful lustre cast A moment on the victim; he sedate In calm disdain of even a felon's fate, His royal breast bared to the soldier's mark, Seeming to pity with his steady sight Those poor mechanic murderers-then 't was dark, All but yon crown'd Assassin's visage bright, Who waved his torch in horrible delight. O blood of Condé! could thy spirit rest In thy tame country's cold ungrateful breast?

Yet in my drunkenness of pride I mock'd
Mean crimes that would a petty tyrant shame,
For still in glory's cradle was I rock'd,

Mine eagle eyrie crown'd the steep of fame. Nought heeded I, that the proud Son of Spain, Like a fierce courser that has burst his chain, Shook the base slavery from his floating mane, And that new British Arthur's virgin shield Won its rich blazon on Vimeira's field.

For lo, my cities throw their portals wide;
Gorgeous my festal streets, as when of old
The monarchs met upon the plain of gold—
Lo, on my throne a bright and royal bride.
Vain all my pomp, imperial beauty vain
The reveller in battles to restrain.

And at his word, as at the fabled wand
Of old magician, from the teeming land,
Myriad on myriad, harness'd warriors rise;
The earth was darken'd with excess of light,