And o'er it blew the mountain breeze;
And by it there were waters flowing,
And on it there were young flowers growing;
Of gentle breath and hue.
The fish swam by the castle wall,
And they seemed joyous each and all;
The eagle rode the rising blast,
Methought he never flew so fast
As then to me he seemed to fly;
And then new tears came in my eye,
And I felt troubled-and would fain
I had not left my recent chain;
And when I did descend again,
The darkness of my dim abode
Fell on me as a heavy load;
It was as is a new-dugave,
Closing o'er one we sought to save,
And yet my glance, too much opprest,
Had almost need of such a rest.

XIV.

It might be months, or years, or days,
I kept no count-I took no note,
I had no hope my eyes to raise,

And clear them of their dreary mote ;
At last men came to set me free,
I ask'd not why, and reck'd not where;
It was at length the same to me:
Fettered or fetterless to be:
I learn'd to love despair.

And thus when they appear'd at last,
And all my bonds aside were cast,
These heavy walls to me had grown
A hermitage-and all my own!
And half I felt as they were come
To tear me from a second home:
With spiders I had friendship made;
And watch'd them in their sullen trade,
Had seen the mice by moonlight play,
And why should I feel less than they?

We were all inmates of one place,
And I, the monarch of each race,
Had power to kill-yet, strange to tell!
In quiet we had learn'd to dwell-
My very chains and I grew friends,
So much a long communion tends
To make us what we are :-even I
Regain'd my freedom with a sigh.

THREE HEBREW MELODIES.

OH! WEEP FOR THOSE.

Oh! weep for those that wept by Bahel's stream,
Whose shrines are desolate, whose land a dream;
Weep for the harp of Judah's broken shell;

Mourn — where their God hath dwelt the godless dwell!

And where shall Israel lave her bleeding feet?
And when shall Zion's songs again seem sweet?
And Judah's melody once more rejoice!

The hearts that leap'd before its heavenly voice?

Tribes of the wandering foot and weary breast
How shall ye flee away and be at rest!
The wild-dove hath her nest, the fox his cave,
Mankind their country - Israel but the grave!

BY THE RIVERS OF BABYLON WE SAT DOWN AND WEPT.

We sat down and wept by the waters

Of Babel, and thought of the day
When our foe, in the hue of his slaughters,

244

Made Salem's high places his prey; And ye, oh her desolate daughters! Were scatter'd all weeping away.

While sadly we gazed on the river
Which roll'd on in freedom below,
They demanded the song; but, oh never
That triumph the stranger shall know!
May this right hand be wither'd for ever
Ere it string our high harp for the foe!

On the willow that harp is suspended;
Oh Salem! its sound should be free;
And the hour when thy glories were ended,
But left me that token of thee:

And ne'er shall its soft tones be blended
With the voice of the spoiler by me!

FROM JOB.

A spirit pass'd before me: I beheld
The face of immortality unveil'd;

all formless

Deep sleep came down on every eye save mine
And there it stood,
but divine:
Along my bones the creeping flesh did quake;
And as my damp hair stiffen'd, thus it spake :
Is man more just than God? Is man more pure
Than he who deems even seraphs insecure?
Creatures of clay! vain dwellers in the dust!
The moth survives you, and are ye more just?
Things of a day! You wither ere the night,
Heedless and blind to wisdom's wasted light! »>

THE END.