No More Learning

Thou canst not hear my bitter pleading:[mc]
Ah! could'st thou--thou would'st pardon now,
Though Heaven were to my prayer unheeding.

II.

And is she dead? --and did they dare
Obey my Frenzy's jealous raving? [md]
My Wrath but doomed 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[me]
For he who soars alone above,
And leaves my soul unworthy saving.

III.

She's gone, 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 earned those tortures well,[mf]
Which unconsumed are still consuming!

_Jan. _ 15, 1815.



ON THE DAY OF THE DESTRUCTION OF JERUSALEM BY TITUS.

I.

From the last hill that looks on thy once holy dome,[mg]
I beheld thee, oh Sion!
when rendered to Rome:[mh]
'Twas thy last sun went down, and the flames of thy fall
Flashed back on the last glance I gave to thy wall.

II.

I looked for thy temple--I looked for my home,
And forgot for a moment my bondage to come;[mi]
I beheld but the death-fire that fed on thy fane,
And the fast-fettered hands that made vengeance in vain.

III.

On 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 decline
Of the rays from the mountain that shone on thy shrine.

IV.

And now on that mountain I stood on that day,
But I marked not the twilight beam melting away;
Oh! would that the lightning had glared in its stead,
And the thunderbolt burst on the Conqueror's head! [mj]

V.

But the Gods of the Pagan shall never profane
The shrine where Jehovah disdained not to reign;
And scattered and scorned as thy people may be,
Our worship, oh Father! is only for thee.

1815.



BY THE RIVERS OF BABYLON WE SAT DOWN AND WEPT. [302]

I.

We sate down and wept by the waters[303]
Of Babel, and thought of the day
When our foe, in the hue of his slaughters,
Made Salem's high places his prey;
And Ye, oh her desolate daughters!
Were scattered all weeping away.