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which shone dazzlingly in the wild light of the flames;
they supposed that incalculable treasures were laid up in 50 the sanctuary. A soldier, unperceived, thrust a lighted
torch between the hinges of the door; the whole building was in flames in an instant. The blinding smoke and fire forced the officers to retreat; and the noble edifice was left to its fate.
PART II. It was an appalling spectacle to the Roman-what was it to the Jew? The whole summit of the hill, which commanded the city, blazed like a volcano. One after
another the buildings fell in, with a tremendous crash, 5 and were swallowed up in the fiery abyss. The roofs of
cedar were like sheets of flame; the gilded pinnacles shone like spikes of red light; the gate towers sent up tall columns of fame and smoke. The neighbouring
hills were lighted up; and dark groups of people were 10 seen watching in horrible anxiety the progress of the
destruction: the walls and heights of the upper city were crowded with faces, some pale
with the agony of despair, others scowling unavailing vengeance.
The shouts of the Roman soldiery, as they ran to and fro, and the 15 howlings of the insurgents who were perishing in the
flames, mingled with the roaring of the confiagration and the thundering sound of falling timbers. The echoes of the mountains replied, or brought back the shrieks of
the people on the heights: all along the walls, resounded 20 screams and wailings; men, who were expiring with
famine, rallied their remaining strength to utter a cry of anguish and desolation.
The slaughter within was even more dreadful than the spectacle from without. Men and women, old and 25 young, insurgents and priests, those who fought and
those who intreated mercy were hewn down in indiscriminate carnage. The numbers of the slain exceeded that of the slayers. The legionaries had to clamber
over heaps of dead, to carry on the work of extermina80 tion. John, at the head of some of his troops, cut his
way through, first into the outer court of the temple; afterwards into the upper city. Some of the priests upon the roof wrenched off the gilded spikes, with their sockets of lead, and used them as missiles against the
35 Romans below. Afterwards they fled to a part of the
wall, about fourteen feet wide: they were summoned to surrender; but two of them, Mair, son of Belgo, and Joseph son of Dalia, plunged headlong into the flames.
No part escaped the fury of the Romans. The treas40 uries, with all their wealth of money, jewels, and costly
robes—the plunder which the zealots had laid up-were totally destroyed. Nothing remained but a small part of the outer cloister, in which 6000 unarmed and defence
less people, with women and children, had taken refuge. 45 These poor wretches, like multitudes of others, had been
led up to the temple by a false prophet, who had proclaimed that God commanded all the Jews to go up to the temple, where he would display his Almighty power
to save his people. The soldiers set fire to the building, 50 and every soul perished.
Passed fearfully away.
They hailed the dawn of day,-
And wide around its gray light threw.
The icy wall asunder-
Around in awe and wonder-
To Gòd, that morn, from o'er the wave.
Pour'd his full radiance far,
Sad trophies--in the past night's war
Now drifted by, bright shining Isles.
A form more dim and dark;
Its slow, strange progress mark;
5 Near, and more near-and can it be,
(More vent'rous than their own) A Ship, whose seeming ghost they see,
Among those Icebergs thrown; With broken masts, dismantled all,
And dark sails, like a funeral pall? 6 (.) “God of the Mariner! protect
Her inmates as she moves along,
But that thine arm is strong.
The stranger ship to aid;
And rapid speed they made:
The vessel stood-none answering spoke. 8 'Twas fèarful-not a sound arose
No moving thing was there,
Which filled each heart with fear;
'Till one, a màn, their sad sight caught 9 He was alone—the damp, chill mould
Of years hung on his cheek;
The tale no voice might speak:
Seventy days," the record stood,
But soon discovered where
Near him, in life most dear-
11 Oh, wedded lòve! how beautiful,
How pùre a thing thou art:
And triumph o'er the heart;
A holy light around the dead.
Kindled in every breast;
They left them to their rest-
They left them with a blessing there; 13 And to their boat returning, each
With thoughtful brows and haste,
Left 'midst the frozen waste,
Had sail'd from distant Albion's shore. 14 They left her in the icebergs, where
Few venture to intrude;
'Mid Ocean's solitude!
Away so fast;
To-morrow than to-day;
Like them decay.
3 Our lives like hasting streams must be,
Are doomed to fall-
And swallow all.
To that sad wave;
Within the grave.
And death the goal;
Is found of all.
6 Say then how poor and little worth
That lure us here?
EXERCISE 50. Death and the Drunkard.--ANONYMOUS. 1 His form was fair, his cheek was health;
His word a bond, his purse was wealth;