Qass. 
 Book. 
 
 
1-1 
 
'/^ 
 
 THE 
 
 
 PALL OF JEEUSALEai. 
 
THE 
 
 DRAMATIC POEM. 
 
 BY THE REV. H. H. MILMAN. 
 
 KEW-YORK: ^V^fV.yy^tf?'!^^ 
 
 PUBLISHED BY L. AND F. LOCKWOOD. 
 C. S. Van Winkle, Printer. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Every reader will at once perceive from 
 the nature of the interest, and from the lan- 
 guage, that this drama was neither written 
 with a view to public representation, nor caii 
 be adapted to it, without being entirely re- 
 modelled and re-written. The critic will 
 draw the same conclusion from certain pe- 
 culiarities in the composition, irreconcilable 
 with the arrangements of the theatre; the 
 introducing and dismissing of the subordinate 
 characters after a single appearance ; and yet 
 appi^opriating to them some of the most po- 
 etical speeches. 
 
 The groundwork of the poem is to be 
 found in Josephus, but the events of a con- 
 
INTRODtrCTION. 
 
 siderable time are compressed into a period 
 of about thirty-six hours. Though their 
 children are fictitious characters, the leaders 
 of the Jews, Simon, John, and Eleazar, are 
 historical. At the beginning of the siege, the 
 defenders of the city were divided into three 
 factions. John, however, having surprized 
 Eleazar, who occupied the Temple, during a 
 festival, the party of Eleazar became subor- 
 dinate to that of John. The character of 
 John the Galilean was that of excessive sen- 
 suality — I have therefore considered him as 
 belonging to the sect of the Sadducees ; 
 Simon, on the other hand, I have represented 
 as a native of Jerusalem, and a strict Pha- 
 risee, although his soldiers were chiefly Edo- 
 mites. The Christians, we learn from Euse- 
 bius, abandoned the city previous to the siege, 
 (by divine command, according to that 
 author,) and took refuge in Pella, a small 
 town on the further side of the Jordan. The 
 constant tradition of the Church has been, 
 that no one professing that faith perished 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 during all the havoc which attended on this 
 most awful visitation. 
 
 It has been my object also to show the full 
 completion of prophecy in this great event ; 
 nor do I conceive that the public mind (should 
 this poem merit attention) can be directed to 
 so striking and so incontestible an evidence 
 of the Christian faith without advantage. 
 Those whom duty might not induce to com^ 
 pare the long narrative of Josephus with the 
 Scriptural prediction of the " ifeomination 
 of Desolation," may be tempted by the em- 
 bellishments of poetic language, and the 
 interest of a dramatic fable. 
 
THE 
 
 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
CHARACTERS. 
 
 ROMANS. 
 
 Titus. 
 
 Caius Placidus. 
 
 Tiberius Alexandek,. 
 
 Terentius Rufus. 
 
 DiAGORAS, a Stoic philosopher. 
 
 Joseph (the Historian) with the Roman arm^. 
 
 Soldiers, ^c. 
 
 JEWS IN THE CITY. 
 
 Simon, the Assassin. 
 
 John, the Tyrant. 
 
 Elk^zer, the Zealot. 
 
 Amariah, ion of John. 
 
 The High Priest. 
 
 Ben Cathla, leader of the Edomitcs. 
 
 Aaron, a Levite. 
 
 Aeiram, a false Prophet. 
 
 Many Jeivs. 
 
 Javan, a Christian, by birth a Jew, 
 -Saloke^ \ -^^"to^^^^^ ^f Simon, 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 The Mount of Olives — Evening, 
 
 Titusy Caius Placidus^ Tiberius Alexander, Teren- 
 tius Rufusy Diagoras, SfC. 
 
 Advance the eagles, Caius Placidus, (1) 
 
 Even to the walls of this rebellious city ! 
 
 What ! shall our bird of conquest, that hath flown 
 
 Over the world, and built her nest of glory 
 
 High in the palace tops of proudest kings, 
 
 What! shall she check and pause here in her circle, 
 
 Her centre of dominion ? By the gods, 
 
14 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 It is a treason to all-conquering Rome, 
 That thus our baffled leg-ions stand at bay- 
 Before this hemm'd and famishing- Jerusalem. 
 
 Son of Vespasian ! I have been a soldier. 
 
 Till the helm hath worn mine ag-ed temples bare. 
 
 Battles have been familiar to mine eyes 
 
 As is the suBlight, and the angry Mars 
 
 Wears not a terror to appal the souls 
 
 Of constant men, but I have fronted it. 
 
 I have seen the painted Briton sweep to battle 
 
 On his scythed car, and when he fell, he fell 
 
 As one that honour'd death by nobly dying. 
 
 And I have been where flying Parthians shower'd 
 
 Their arrows, making the pursuer check 
 
 His fierce steed with the sudden grasp of death. 
 
 But war like this, so frantic and so desperate, 
 
 Man ne'er beheld. Our swords are blunt with slaying^ 
 
 And yet, as though the earth cast up again 
 
 Souls discontented with a single death, 
 
 They grow beneath the slaughter. Neither battle. 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 15 
 
 Nor famine, nor the withering- pestilence. 
 Subdues these prodigals of blood : by day 
 They cast their lives upon our swords ; by night 
 They turn their civil weapons on themselves, 
 Even till insatiate war shrinks to behold 
 The hideous consummation. 
 
 It must be— 
 And yet it moves me, Romans ! it confounds 
 The counsels of my firm philosophy, 
 That Ruin's merciless ploughshare must pass o'er, 
 And barren salt be sown ion yon proud city. 
 As on our olive-crowned hill we stand, 
 Where Kedron at our feet its scanty waters 
 Distils from stone to stone with gentle motion, 
 As through a valley sacred to sweet peace, 
 How boldly doth it front us ! how majestically I 
 Like a luxurious vineyard, the hill side 
 Is hung with marble fabrics, line o'er line, 
 Terrace o'er terrace, nearer still, and nearer 
 To the blue heavens. Here bright and sumptuous 
 palaces, 
 
16 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 With cool and verdant gardens interspers'd ; 
 Here towers of war that frown in massy strength, 
 While over all hangs the rich purple eve, 
 As conscious of its being her last farewell 
 Of light and glory to that fated city. 
 And, as our clouds of battle dust and smoke 
 Are melted into air, behold the Temple, 
 In undisturb'd and lone serenity, 
 Finding itself a solemn sanctuary . 
 In the profound of heaven ! It stands before us 
 A mount of snow fretted with golden pinnacles ! (2) 
 The very sun, as though he worshipped there, 
 Ijingers upon the gilded cedar roofs ; 
 And down the long and branching porticoes, 
 On every flowery-sculptured capital, 
 ,, putters the homage of his parting beams. 
 By Hercules ! the sight might almost win 
 The offended majesty of Rome to mercy. 
 
 TIBERIUS ALEXANDER. 
 
 Won'drous indeed it is, great Son of Csesar, 
 But it shall be more won'drous, when the triumph 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 17 
 
 Of Titus marcbes throug-h those brazen gates, 
 Which seem as though they would invite the world 
 To worship in the precincts of her Temple, 
 As he in laurell'd pomp is borne along 
 To that new palace of his pride. 
 
 Tiberius .' 
 It cannot be— 
 
 What cannot be, which Rome 
 Commands, and Titus, the great heir of Rome ? 
 
 I tell thee, Alexander, it must fall ! 
 Yon lofty city, and yon gorgeous Temple, 
 Are consecrate to Ruin. Earth is weary 
 Of the wild factions of this jealous people, 
 And they must feel our wrath, the wrath of Rome, 
 Even so that the rapt stranger shall admire 
 Where that proud city stood, which was Jerusalem, 
 2* 
 
18 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 Thy brethern of the Porch, imperial Titus, (3) 
 Of late esteem'd thee at the height of those 
 That with consummate wisdom have tamed down 
 The fierce and turbulent passions which distract 
 The vulgar soul ; they deem*d that, like Olympus, 
 Thou, on thy cdd and lofty eminence, 
 Severely didst maintain thy sacred quiet 
 Above the clouds and tumult of low earth. 
 But now we see thee stooping- to the thraldom 
 Of every fierce affection, now entranced 
 In deepest admiration, and anon 
 Wrath hath the absolute empire o'er thy soul. 
 Methinke we must unschool our royal pupil, 
 And cast him back to the common herd of men. 
 
 'Tis true, Diagoras ; yet wherefore ask not. 
 For vainly have I question'd mine own reason : 
 But thus it is — I know not whence or how. 
 There is a stem command upon my soul. 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 19 
 
 I feel the inexorable fate within, 
 That tells me, carnage is a duty here, 
 And that the appointed desolation chides 
 The tardy vengeance of our war. Diagoras, 
 If that I err, impeach my tenets. Destiny 
 Is over all, and hard Necessity 
 Holds o'er the shifting course of human things 
 Her paramount dominion. Like a flood 
 The irresistible stream of fate flows on, 
 And urges in its vast and sweeping motion 
 Kings, Consuls, Cxsars, with their mightiest armies, 
 Each to his fix'd inevitable end. 
 Yea, even eternal Rome, and Father Jove, 
 Sternly submissive, sail that onward tide. 
 And now am I upon its rushing bosom, 
 I feel its silent billows swell beneath me. 
 Bearing me and the conquering arms of Rome 
 'Gainst yon devoted city. On they pass. 
 And ages yet to come shall pause and wonder 
 At the utter wreck, which they shall leave behind 
 them. 
 
20 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 But, Placid us, I read thy look severe. 
 This is no time nor place for school debates 
 On the hig-h points of wisdom. Let this night 
 Our wide encircling walls complete their circuit ; (4) 
 And still the approaching- trenches closer mine 
 Their secret way : the engines and the towers 
 Stand each at their appointed post — Terentius, 
 That charge be thine. 
 
 TERENTIUS. 
 
 There spoke again the Roman. 
 Faith ! like old Mummius, I should give to the flame 
 Whate'er opposed the sovereign sway of Casar, (5) 
 If it were wrought of massy molten gold : 
 And though I wear a beard, I boast not much 
 Of my philosophy. But this I know, 
 That to oppose the omnipotent arms of Rome 
 Is to pluck down and tempt a final doom. 
 
FALL OF JERUSALExM. 21 
 
 The Fountain of Siloe — J^ight, 
 
 Sweet fonntain, once again I visit thee ! (6) 
 And thou art flowing on, and freshening still 
 The green moss, and the flowers that bend to thee, 
 Modestly, with a soft unboastful murmur 
 Rejoicing at the blessings that thou bearest. 
 Pure, stainless, thou art flowing on ; the stars 
 Make thee their mirror, and the moonlight beams 
 Course one another o'er thy silver bosom ; 
 And yet thy flowing is through fields of blood, 
 And armed men their hot and weary brows 
 Slake with thy limpid and perennial coolness. 
 
 Even with such rare and singular purity 
 Mov'st thou, oh Miriam, in yon cruel city. 
 Men's eyes, overwearied with the sights of war, 
 With tumult and with grief, repose on thee 
 As on a refuge and a sweet refreshment. 
 
22 PALL OF JERUSALEM, 
 
 Thou canst o'erawe, thou in thy g-entleness, 
 A trembling, pale, and melancholy maid. 
 The brutal violence of ungodly men. 
 Thou glidest on amid the dark pollution 
 In modesty unstain'd ; and heavenly influences. 
 More lovely than the light of star or moon, 
 As though delighted with their own reflection 
 From spirit so pure, dwell evermore upon thee. 
 
 Oh ! how dost thou, beloved proselyte 
 To the high creed of him who died for men. 
 Oh ! how dost thou commend the truths I teach thee, 
 By the strong faith and soft humility 
 Wherewith thy soul embraces them ! Thou prayest, 
 And I, who pray i^th thee, feel my words wing*d, 
 And holier fervour gushing from my heart, 
 While heaven seems smiling kind acceptance down 
 On the associate of so pure a worshipper. 
 
 But 2h ! why com'stthou not? these two long nights 
 I've watch'd for thee in vain, and have not felt 
 The music of thy footsteps on my spirit 
 
 VOICE AT A DISTANCE. 
 
 Jayan ! 
 
1;ALL of JERUSALEM. ^3 
 
 It is her voice ! the air is fond of it, 
 And enviously delays its tender sounds 
 From the ear that thirsteth for them— Miriam I 
 
 Javan, Miriam, 
 
 Nay, stand thus in thy timid breathlessness, 
 That I may gaze on thee, and thou not chide me 
 Because I gaze too fondly. 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 Hast thou brought me 
 
 Thy wonted offerings ? 
 
 Dearest, they are here : 
 The bursting fig, the cool and ripe pomegranate. 
 The skin all rosy with the imprisoned wine : 
 
24 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 All I can bear thee, more than thou canst bear 
 Home to the city. 
 
 Bless thee ! Oh my father ! 
 How will thy famish'd and thy toil-bow'd frame 
 Resume its native majesty ! thy words, 
 When this bright draught hath slak'd thy parched lips, 
 Flow with their wonted freedom and command. 
 
 Thy father ! still no thought but of thy father ! 
 
 Nay, Miriam ! but thou must hear me now, 
 
 Now ere we part — if we must part again, 
 
 If ray sad spirit must be rent from thine. 
 
 Even now our city trembles on the verge 
 
 Of utter ruin. Yet a night or two. 
 
 And the fierce stranger in our burning streets 
 
 Stands conqueror : and how the Roman cooquerg, 
 
 Let Gischala, let fallen Jotapata (7) 
 
 Tell, if one living man, one innocent child. 
 
 Yet wander o'er their cold and scattered ashes. 
 
FALL OF jerusali;m. 25 
 
 They slew them, Miriam, the old gray man, 
 Whose blood scarce tinged their swords— (nay, turn 
 
 not from me — 
 The tears thou sheddest feel as though I wrung them 
 From mine own heart, my life-blood's dearest drops) 
 They slew them, Miriam, at the mother's breast, 
 The smiling infants ; — and the tender maid, 
 The soft, the loving, and the chaste, like thee, 
 They slew her not till— • 
 
 Javan, 'tis unkind ! 
 I have enough at home of thoughts like these. 
 Thoughts horrible, that freeze the blood, and make 
 A heavier burthen of this weary life. 
 I hoped with thee t' have pass'd a tranquil hour, 
 A brief, a hurried, yet still tranquil hour ! 
 — But thou art like them all ! the miserable 
 Have only heaven, where they can rest in peace, 
 Without being mock'd and taunted with their misery. 
 3 
 
Fall of Jerusalem. 
 
 Tbou know'st it is a lover's wayward joy 
 To be reproached by her he loves, or thus 
 Thou would'st not speak. But t'was not to provoke 
 That sweet reproof, which sounds so like to tender- 
 ness: 
 I would alarm thee^ shock thee, but to save. 
 That old and secret stair, down which thou stealest 
 At midnight through tall grass and olive trunks, 
 Which cumber, yet conceal thy diflBcult path. 
 It cannot long remain secure and open ; 
 Nearer and closer the stern Roman winds 
 His trenches ; and on every side but this 
 Soars his imprisoning wall. Yet, yet 'tis time, 
 And I must bear thee with me, where are met 
 In Pella the neglected church of Christ. 
 
 With thee ! to fly with thee ! thou mak'st me fear 
 Lest all this while I have deceived my soul, 
 Excusing to myself our stolen meetings 
 
FALL OF JEBUSALEM. 27 
 
 By the fond thought, that for my father's life 
 I laboured, bearing sustenance from thee, 
 Which he hath deem'd heaven-sent. 
 
 Oh ! farewell then 
 The faithless dream, the sweet yet faithless dream, 
 That Miriam loyes me ! 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 Love thee ! I am here, 
 Here at dead midnight by the fountain's side, 
 Trusting thee, Javan, with a faith as fearless 
 As that with which the instinctive infant twines 
 To its mother's bosom— Love thee ! when the sounds 
 Of massacre are round me, when the shouts 
 Of frantic men in battle rack the soul 
 With their importunate and jarring din, 
 Javan, I think on thee, and am at peace. 
 Our famish'd maidens gaze on me, and see 
 That I am famish'd like themselves, as pale, 
 With lips as parch'd and eyes as wild, yet I 
 
28 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 Sit patient with an enviable smile 
 
 On my wan cheeks, for then my spirit feasts 
 
 Contented on its pleasing thoughts of thee. 
 
 My very prayers are full of thee ; I look 
 
 To heaven and bless thee ; for from thee I learnt 
 
 The way by which we reach the eternal mansions. 
 
 But thou, injurious Javan ! coldly doubtest ! 
 
 And— oh ! but I have said too much ! Oh ! scorn not 
 
 The immodest maid, whom thou hast vex'd to utter 
 
 What yet she scarce dared whisper to herself. 
 
 JAVAN. 
 
 Will it then cease ? will it not always sound 
 Sweet, musical as thus ? and wilt thou leave me ? 
 
 MIRIAM, 
 
 My father ! 
 
 JAVAN. 
 
 Miriam ! is not thy father 
 (Oh, that such flowers should bloom on such a stock !) 
 The curse of Israel ? even his common name 
 Simon the Assassin ! of the bloody men 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 2^ 
 
 That hold their iron sway within yon city, 
 The bloodiest ! 
 
 Oh cease ! I pray thee cease ! 
 Javan ! I know that all men hate my father ; 
 Javan ! I fear that all should hate my father ; 
 And therefore, Javan, must his daughter's love, 
 Her dutiful, her deep, her fervent love, 
 Make up to his forlorn and desolate heart 
 The forfeited affections of his kind. 
 Is't not so written in our Law ? and He 
 We worship came not to destroy the Law. 
 Then let men rain their curses, let the storm 
 Of human hate beat on his rugg'ed trunk, 
 I will cling to him, starve, die, bear the scoffs 
 Of men upon my scatter'd bones with him. 
 
 Oh, Miriam ! what a fatal art hast thou ! 
 Of winding thought, word, act, to thy sole purpose ; 
 The «^namouring one even now too much enamour'd ! 
 3* 
 
30 PALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 I must admire thee more for so denying", 
 Than I had dared if thou hadst fondly granted. 
 Thou dost devote thyself to utterest peril, 
 And me to deepest anguish ; yet even now 
 Thou art lovelier to me in thy cold severity, 
 Flying me, leaving me without a joy, 
 Without a hope on earth, without thyself; 
 Thou art lovlier now than if thy yielding soul 
 Had smiled on me a passionate consent. 
 Go ! for I see thy parting homeward look, 
 Go in thy beauty ! like a setting star, 
 The last in all the thick and moonless heavens, 
 O'er the lone traveller in the trackless desert. 
 Go! if this dark and miserable earth 
 Do jealously refuse us place for meeting, 
 There is a heaven for those w4io trust in Christ. 
 Farewell ! — — — 
 
 And thou return'st !— 
 
 I had forgot- 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 31 
 
 The fruit, the wine Oh ! when I part from thee, 
 
 How can I think of ought but thy last words ! 
 
 Bless thee ! but we may meet again even here ! 
 Thou look'st consent, I see it through thy tears. 
 Yet once again that cold sad word, Farewell ! 
 
 The House of Simon. 
 
 Oh God ! thou surely dost approve mine act, 
 
 For thou didst bid thy soft and silver moon 
 
 To light me back upon ray intricate way. 
 
 Even o'er each shadowy thing at which I trembled 
 
 She pour'd a sober beauty, and my terror 
 
 Was mingled with a sense of calm delight. 
 
 How changed that way ! when yet a laughing child, 
 
 It was my sport to thread that broken stair 
 
32 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 That from our house leads down into the vale, 
 By which, in ancient days, the maidens stole 
 To bathe in the cool fountain's secret waters. 
 In each wild olive trunk, and twisted root 
 Of sycamore, with ivy overgrown, 
 I have nestled, and the flowers would seem to wel- 
 come me. 
 I loved it with a child's capricious love, 
 Because none knew it but myself. Its loneliness 
 I loved, for still my sole companions there, 
 The doves, sate murmuring in the noonday sun. 
 Ah ! now there broods no bird of peace and love ! 
 Even as I pass'd a sullen vulture rose, 
 And heavily it flapp'd its huge wings o'er me, 
 As though o*ergorged with blood of Israel. 
 
 Miriam^ Salone. 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 Sister, not yet at rest ? 
 
 SALONE. 
 
 At rest ! at rest ! 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 33 
 
 The wretched and the desperate, let them court 
 The dull, the dreamless, tlis unconscious sleep, 
 To lap them in its stagnant letharg-y. 
 But oh ! the bright, the rapturous disiurbances 
 That break my haunted slumbers ! Fast they come. 
 They croud around my couch, and all my chamber 
 Is radiant with them. There I lie and bask 
 In their glad promise, till the oppressed spirit 
 Can bear no more, and I come forth to breathe 
 The cool free air. 
 
 Dear sister, in our state 
 So dark, so hopeless, dreaming still of glory ! 
 
 Low-minded Miriam ! I tell thee, oft 
 
 I have told thee, nightly do the visitations 
 
 Break on my gifted sight, more golden bright 
 
 Than the rich morn on Carmel. Of their shape, 
 
 Sister, I know not ; this I only know, 
 
 That they pour o'er me like the restless waters 
 
34 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 Of some pure cataract in the noontide sun. 
 
 There is a mingling of all glorious forms, 
 
 Of Angels riding upon cloudy thrones, 
 
 And our proud city marching all abroad 
 
 Like a crown'd conqueror o'er the trampled Gentiles, 
 
 Alas ! when God afflicts us in his wrath, 
 'Tis sin to mock with wild untimely gladness 
 His stern inflictions ! Else, beloved Salone, 
 My soul would envy thee thy mad forgetfulness, 
 And dote on the distraction of thy dreams 
 Till it imbibed thp infection of their joy. 
 
 What mean'st thou ? 
 
 Ah ! thou know'st too well, Salone, 
 How with an audible and imperious voice 
 The Lord is speaking in the streets of Judah, 
 " Down to the dust, proud daughters of Jerusalem ! 
 " The crownings of your head be bitter ashes, 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 35 
 
 i Your festal garments changed to mourning sack- 
 cloth, 
 ' Your bridal songs fail into burial wailings.'* 
 
 Our bridal songs ! (8) Away ! I know them now, 
 
 They were the rich and bursting cadences 
 
 That thrall'd mine ears. I tell thee, doubting woman 
 
 My spirit drank the sounds of all the city. 
 
 And there were shriekings for the dead, and sobs 
 
 Of dying men, and the quick peevish moan 
 
 Of the half-famish'd : there were trumpet sounds 
 
 Of arming to the battle, and the shouts 
 
 Of onset, and the fall of flaming houses 
 
 Crashing around. But in the house of Simon, 
 
 The silver lute spake to the dulcimer ; 
 
 The tabret and the harp held sweet discourse ; 
 
 And all along our roofs, and all about 
 
 The silence of our chambers flow'd the sweetness. 
 
 Even yet I hear them — Hark ! yet, yet they sound. 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 Alas! we listen to our own food hopes, 
 
36 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 Even till they seem no more our fancy's children. 
 We put them on a prophet's robes, endow them 
 With prophets' voices, and then Heaven speaks in 
 
 them, 
 And that which we would have be, surely shall be* 
 
 What, mock'st thou still ? still enviously doubtest 
 The mark'd and favour'd of the Everlasting ? 
 
 Oh gracious Lord ! thou know'st she hath not eaten 
 For two long- days, and now her troubled brain 
 Is fall of strangeness. 
 
 SALONE. 
 
 Ha ! still unbelieving ! 
 Then, then 'tis true, what I have doubted long. 
 False traitress to our city, to the race, 
 The chosen race of Abraham ! loose apostate 
 From Israel's faith ! Believer in the Crucified > 
 I know thee, I abjure thee. Thou'rt no child 
 Of Simon's house, no sister of Salone : 
 I blot thee from my heart, I wipe away 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 37 
 
 AH memory of our youthful pleasant hours, 
 Our blended sports and tasks, and joys and sorrows; 
 Yea, I'll proclaim thee. 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 Sister ! dearest sister 1 
 Thou seest that I cannot speak for tears, 
 
 SAL ONE. 
 
 Away I thou wilt not speak, thou dar'st not-Hark ! 
 My father's armed footstep ! at whose tread 
 Sion rejoices, aod the pavement stones 
 Of Salem shout with proud and boastful echoes. 
 The Gentile's scourge, the Christiaus'-tremble, 
 false one ! 
 
 Father! 
 
 Miriam, Salone, Simon. 
 
 SALONE. 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 Dear father! 
 
 4 
 
38 FALL OF JERUSALE5r. 
 
 Daughters, I have beea 
 With Eleazar, and with John of Galilee, 
 The son of Sadoc. We have search'd the city. 
 If any rebel to our ordinance 
 Do traitorously withhold his private hoard 
 Of stolen provision from the public store. 
 
 And found ye any guilty of a fraud 
 So base on Judah's warriors ? 
 
 Yes, my children ! 
 There sate a woman in a lowly house, 
 And she had moulded meal into a cake ; 
 And she sate weeping even in wild delight 
 Over her sleeping infants, at the thought 
 Of how their eyes would glisten to behold 
 The unaccustom'd food. She had not tasted 
 Herself the strange repast : but she had raised 
 The covering under which the children lay 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 39 
 
 Crouching and clinging fondly to each other, 
 
 As though the warmth that breath'd out from their 
 
 bodies 
 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. 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 But thou didst not smite her, father ? 
 
 siaioN. 
 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 chieiF. 
 
 Miriam, Salone. 
 
 SAL ONE. 
 
 Oh, Miriam ! I dare not tell him now ! 
 For even as those two infants lay together 
 
40 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 Nestling* their sleeping faces on each other, 
 Even so hare we two lain, and I have felt 
 Thy breath upon my face, and every motion 
 Of thy soft bosom answering to mine own. 
 
 SimoHy^Salone, Miriam. 
 
 Come, daughters, I have wash'd my bloody hands^ 
 
 And said my prayers, and we will eat — And thee 
 
 First will I bless, thou secret messenger, 
 
 That mine ambrosial banquet dost prepare 
 
 With gracious stealth : where'er thou art, if yet 
 
 Thy unseen presence lingers in our air, 
 
 Or walks our earth in beauty, hear me bless thee. 
 
 MIRIAM (apart.) 
 He blessetb me t me, though he means it not .' 
 I thought t'have heard his stern heart-withering curs^^ 
 And God hath changed it to a gentle blessing. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Why stands my loving Miriam aloof? 
 
 Will she not join to thank the God of Israel, 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 41 
 
 Who thus with signal mercy seals ber father 
 His chosen captain. 
 
 MIRIAM {apart.) 
 
 Yet must I endure — 
 For if he knew it came from Christian hands. 
 While the ripe fruit was bursting- at his lips, 
 While the cool wine-cup slak'd his burning- throat, 
 He'd dash it to the earth, and trample on it ; 
 And then he'd perish, perish in his sins — — 
 Father, I come — but I have vow'd to sing 
 A hymn this night ; — I'll follow thee anon. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Come, then, Salone ; while we feast, FU tell thee 
 More deeds of justice which mine arm hath wrought 
 Against the foes of Salem, and the renegades 
 That have revolted from the arms of Israel. 
 And thou shalt wave thy raven locks with pride 
 To hear the stern-told glories of thy father. 
 
 MIRIAM, alone. 
 
 Oh TH?>u ! thou who canst melt the heart of stone, 
 4* 
 
42^ rALL OP JERUSALEM. 
 
 And ma.ke the desert of the cruel breast 
 A paradise of soft and gentle thoughts ! 
 Ah ! will it ever be, that thoti wilt visit 
 The darkness of my father's soul ? Thou knowest 
 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. 
 Bat thee, a soft and naked child, 
 
 Thy mother undefiled. 
 Id the rude manger laid to rest 
 From off her virgin breast. 
 The heavens were not commanded to prepare 
 A gorgeous canopy of golden air ; 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 43 
 
 Nor stoop'd their lamps th' enlhron'd 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 heap 
 Bright harmony from every starry sphere ; 
 Nor at thy presence brake the voice of song 
 From all the cherub choirs, 
 And seraphs* burning lyres 
 Pour'd thro' the host of heaven the charmed clouds 
 along. 
 One angel troop the strain began, 
 
 Of all the race of man 
 By 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 : 
 
44 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 Nor visible Angels mourn'd with drooping plumes ; 
 Nor didst thou mount on high 
 From fatal Calvary 
 With all thine own redeemed outbursting from their 
 tombs. 
 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 bra.ke; 
 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. 
 
 i 
 
FALL 0:F JERUSALEM. 45 
 
 And when thou didst arise, thou didst not stand 
 With Devastation in thy red ri^ht hand, 
 Plaguing the guilty city's murtherous crew; 
 But thou didst haste to meet 
 Thy mother's comiog 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. 
 
46 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 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 overspreading 
 The starless waning night. But yet it comes not. 
 The broad and sultry thundercloud, 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 
 As rushing fire, and terrible as the wind ; 
 
I^ALL OF JERUSALEM. 47 
 
 That sweeps the tentless desert. — Yethatmov^ 
 Shrouded in secrecy as in a robe. 
 And gloom of deepest midnight the vaunt-courier 
 Of your dread presence I Will ye not reveal > 
 Will ye not one compassionate glimpse vouchsafe, 
 By what dark instruments 'tis 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-chasmed Earth, 
 They know thy bidding, by fix'd habit bound 
 To the usage of obedience. Or the rather, 
 Look we in weary yet undaunted hope 
 For Him that is to come, the Mighty Arm, 
 The Wearer of the purple robe of vengeance, 
 The Crowned with dominion ? Let him haste ; 
 The wine- press waits the trampling of his wrath, 
 Aod Judah yearns t' unfurl the Lion banner 
 Before the terrible radiance of his coming. 
 
48 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 SimoUf Johuy Eleazar, the High-Priest, J^mariahf 
 Sfc, Sfc, 
 
 How, Simon ! have we broken on thy privacy ! 
 Thou wert discoursing with the spirits of air. 
 Now Eleazar, were not holy Simon, 
 The just, the merciful, the righteous Simon, 
 A vessel meet for the prophetic trance • 
 Methinks 'tis on him now ! 
 
 Ha! John of Galilee, 
 Still in the taunting vein ? Reserv'st thou not 
 The bitter overflowings of thy lips 
 For yon fierce Gentiles ?— But I will endure. 
 
 And then perchance 'twill please the saintly Simon, 
 When he hath mumbled o'er his two-hour prayers, 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 49^ 
 
 That we do ope our gates and sally forth 
 To combat the uncircumcised 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Thy scoffs 
 Fall on me as the thin and scattering raia 
 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 no 
 Some holy fast, new moon, or rigid sabbath, 
 Which may excuse a tame and coward peace 
 For one day longer to your men of Edora ^ 
 
 HIGH'PRIEST. 
 
 Oh ! 'tis unwise, ye sworded delegates 
 Of Him who watcheth o'er Jerusaleai, 
 Thus day by day in angry quarrel meeting- 
 
 5 
 
50 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 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 lazj separate course 
 
 SxifFers 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 
 
 tempest ; 
 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. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Now, John of Galilee, the High-Priest speaks wisely. 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 51 
 
 Why, ay, it is the privileg-e 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 1 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 ? 
 
 The sword was given, and shall the sword not slay ? 
 
 HIGH-PRIEST, 
 
 Break off! break off! I hear the Gentile horn 
 Winding along the wide entrenched line. 
 Hear ye it not ? hill answers hill, the valleys 
 
52 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 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. 
 
 AMARIAH. 
 
 \^low ! blow ! and rend the heavens, thou deep'Voiced 
 
 horn ! 
 I hear thee, and rejoice at thee. Thou summoner 
 To the storm of battle, thou that dost invite 
 With stern and welcome importunity 
 The warrior soul to that high festival, 
 Where Valour with his armed hand administers 
 The cup of death ! 
 
 Again, again it sounds 
 It doth demand a parley with our chiefs. 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 53 
 
 AMARIAH. 
 
 Ay, father ! and let Israel's chiefs reply 
 
 In the brave language of their javelia showers. 
 
 And shouts of furious onset. 
 
 Hold, hot boy! 
 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. 
 
34 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 The Walls of the Citi/. 
 
 Below — Titus ^ the Roman Army, Joseph of Jotapa- 
 ia, Sfc, 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 ; 
 
 To you thus speaks again the Queen of Earth, 
 
 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 'tis subject to the immortal gods — 
 
 To you, whose mad and mutinous revolt 
 
 Hath harrow'd all your rich and pleasant land 
 
 With fiary rapine ; sunk your lofty cities 
 
 To desolate heaps of monumental ashes ; 
 
 Yet with that patience, which becomes the mighty. 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 65 
 
 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 hig-h front of your proud rebellion 
 Even to the common level of obedience, 
 That holds the rest of humankind. So doings 
 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. 
 
 Mercy i Roman 
 With what a humble and a modest truth 
 Thou dost commend thy unpresuming virtues. 
 Ye want not testimonies to your mildness — (10) 
 There, on yon lofty crosses, which surround us, 
 Each with a Jewish corpse sublimely rotting 
 On its most honourable eminence ; 
 There's none in all that long and ghastly avenue 
 
56 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 Whose wind-bleach'd bones dtpose not of thy mercy. 
 We know our brethren, and we thank thee too ; 
 A courteous welcome hast thou g-iven them, Roman, 
 Who have abandoned us in the hour of peril. 
 They fled to 'scape their ruthless countrymen ; 
 And, in good truth, their City of Refuge seems 
 To have found them fair and gentle entertainment. 
 
 Peace, John of Galilee! and I will answer 
 
 This purple-mantled Captain of the Gentiles ; 
 
 But in far other tone than he is wont 
 
 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 a' I \rhich 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, 
 
FALL OF JERUSALExAl. 57 
 
 Portion'd and sealed unto us by the God 
 
 Who made the round world and the crystal heavens ; 
 
 A wond'rous 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 arra*d legions, 'tis 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 father's tombs, 
 
 To think that Heathen conqueror doth aspire 
 
 To lord it over God's Jerusalem ! 
 
 Yea, in Hell's deep and desolate abodie, 
 
53 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 Where dwell the perish'd kings, the chief of earth j 
 
 They whose idolatrous warfare erst assailed 
 
 The Holy City, and the chosea people ; 
 
 They wait for thee, the associate of their hopes 
 
 And fatal fall, to join their ruin'd conclave. 
 
 He whom the Ked Sea 'whelm'd with all his host, 
 
 Pharaoh, the Eg-yptian ; and the kings of Canaan ; 
 
 The Philistine, the Dagon worshipper ; 
 
 Moab, and Edom, and fierce Amalek ; 
 
 And he of Babylon, whose multitudes. 
 
 Even on the hills where gleam your myriad spears,(l i) 
 
 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 falle^a 
 
 Before the avenging God of Israel t 
 
 I 
 
I'ALL OF JERUSALEM. 59 
 
 THE JEWS. 
 
 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. 
 
 AMARIAH. 
 
 Blow, ye sacred priests, 
 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. 
 
 TERENTIUS. 
 
 See ! he speaks to them; 
 And ihey do listen, though their menacing brows 
 Lower with a darker and more furious bate. 
 
60 FALL or JERUSxiLEM. 
 
 
 Yet, yet a little while — ye see me rise, 
 Oh, men of Israel, brethren, countrymen ! 
 JEven from the earth ye see me rise, where lone, 
 And sorrowful, and fasting", I have sate J 
 
 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 'tis glorious madness 
 To stand alone amid the enslaved world 
 Freedom's Ia«t desperate champions ; ye would an- 
 swer, 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 61 
 
 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 Csesar ; 
 But in a mightier name I summon yov, 
 The King of Kings ! I^, he is manifev«i 
 In the dark visitation that is on you. 
 'Tis He, whose loosed and raging- Hiinisters, 
 Wild War, gaunt Famine, leprous Pestilence-, 
 But execute his delegatecl wrath- 
 Yea, by the fulness of your crimes, 'tis He. 
 Alas ! shall I weep o'e^^ thee, or go down 
 And grovel in the du^t, and hide myself 
 From mine own sii2.me ? Oh, thou defiled Jerusalem !, 
 That drinkc«£ thine own blood as from a fountain j 
 That ha^t piled up the fabric of thy guilt 
 To siich portentous height, that earth is darkened 
 With its huge shadow — that dost boast the monuments 
 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 day 
 Dost trample down the thunder-given Law, 
 6 
 
€2 FALL OP JERUSALEM. 
 
 Even with the pride and joy of him who treads 
 
 The purple vintage — And oh thou, our Temple r 
 
 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 slaugbter'd men, a common butchery 
 
 Of civil strife , — and hence proclaim I, brethren^j 
 
 It is the Lor^ who doth avenge his own : 
 
 The Lord, who gives you over to the wicked, 
 
 That ye may perish Toy their wickedness. 
 
 Oh ! ye that do disdain to be Rome's slaves, 
 And yet are sold unto a basei bondage, 
 One that, like iron, eats into your souls, 
 Robbers, and Zealots, and wild Edor^tes ! 
 Yea, these are they that sit in Moses' sejut^ 
 Wield Joshua's sword, and fill the throne of David ; 
 Yea, these are they 
 
 AMARIAH. 
 
 Vll hear no more— the foe 
 Claims from our lips the privilege of reply,. 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 63 
 
 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. 
 
 Oh, noble Amariah ! 
 Well hast thou spoken ! well hast thou replied ! 
 Lead — lead — we'll follow nx)ble Amariah ! 
 
 Now, Mercy, to the winds I I cast thee off — 
 
 My soul's forbidden luxury, I abjure thee ! 
 
 Thou much-abused attribute of gods 
 
 And godlike men. 'Twas nature's final struggle ; 
 
 And now, whate'er thou art, thou unseen prompter ! 
 
 That in the secret chambers of my soul 
 
 Darkly abidest, and hast still rebuked 
 
 The soft compunctious weakness of mine heart, 
 
 I here surrender thee myself. Now wield me 
 
64 FALL OF JERUSALEM, 
 
 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 ' 
 
FALL OP JERUSALEM. 65 
 
 Streets of Jerusalem near the Inner Wall. 
 Miriam, Salone. 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 Sweet sister, ■whither in such haste ? 
 
 SALONE. 
 
 And know'st thou not 
 My customary seat, where I look down 
 And see the g-lorious battle deepen round me ? 
 Oh ! it is spirit-stirring' to behold 
 The crimson garments waving in the dust, 
 The eagles glancing in the clouded sunshine. 
 
 Salone ! in this dark and solemn hour, 
 Were it not wiser that the weak and helpless. 
 Bearing their portion in the common danger. 
 6* 
 
66 FALL OF JERrUSALEM. 
 
 Should join their feeble efforts to defend — 
 Should be upon their knees in fervent prayer 
 Unto the Lord of Battles ? 
 
 Yes ; I know 
 That Zion's daughters are set forth to lead 
 Their suppliant procession to the gates 
 Of the Holy Temple. But Salone goes 
 Where she may see the God whom they adore 
 In the stern deeds of valiant men, that war 
 To save that Temple from the dust. 
 
 Behold ! 
 I mount my throne, and here I sit the queen 
 Of the majestic tumult that beneath me 
 Is maddening into conflict. Lo ! I bind 
 My dark locks, that they spread not o'er my sight. 
 Now flash the bright sun from your gleaming arms, 
 Shake it in broad sheets from your banner folds, 
 Mine eyes will still endure the blaze, and pierce 
 The thickest! 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM; 67 
 
 And thou hast no tears to blind thee ? 
 
 Behold ! behold I 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 I the engines, 
 As though instinct with life, come heavily labouring 
 Upon their ponflerous 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. 
 
68 PALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 Oh ! what a blaze of glory gathers round them ! 
 How proudly move they in invincible strength ! 
 
 And thou canst speak thus with a steadfast voice, 
 When in one hour may death have laid in the dust 
 Those breathing, moving, valiant multitudes ? 
 
 And thou ! oh thou, that movest to the battle 
 Even like the mountain stag to the running river, 
 Pause, pause, that I may gaze my fill ! — 
 
 Our father! 
 Salone ! is't our father that thou seest ? 
 
 Lo ! lo ! the war hath broken off to admire him ! 
 The glory of his presence awes the conflict ? 
 The son of Caesar on his armed steed 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 69 
 
 Rises, impatient of the plumed helms 
 
 That from his sight conceal young Amariah. 
 
 Alas ? what means slie ? Hear me yet a word 1 
 
 I will return or ere the wounded men 
 
 Require our soft and healing hands to soothe them- 
 
 Thou'It not forget, Salone — if thou seest 
 
 Our father in the fearful hour of peril, 
 
 Lift up thy hands and pray. 
 
 To gaze on hini— 
 It is like gazing on the morning sun, 
 When he comes scattering from his burning orb 
 The vapourish clouds ! 
 
 She hears, she heeds me not; 
 And here's a sight and sound to me more welcome 
 Than the wild fray of men who slay and die — 
 Our maidens on their way to the Holy Temple. 
 
70 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 I'll mingle with them, and I'll pray with them ; 
 But threug-h a name, hy them unknown or scorn'd, 
 My prayers shall mount to heaven. 
 
 Behold them here ! 
 Behold them, how unlike to what they were ! 
 Oh ! virgin daughters of Jerusalem ! 
 Ye were a garden once of Hermon's lilies, 
 That bashfully upon their tremulous stems 
 Bow to the wooing breath of the sweet spring. 
 Graceful ye were ! there needed not the tone 
 Of tabret, harp, or lute, to modulate 
 Your soft harmonious footsteps ; your light tread 
 Fell like a natural music. Ah ! how deeply 
 Hath the cold blight of misery prey'd upon you. 
 How heavily ye drag your weary footsteps. 
 Each like a mother mourning her one child. 
 Ah me ! I feel it almost as a sin, 
 To be so much less sad, less miserable. 
 
 King of Kings ! and Lord of Lords I 
 Thus we move, our sad steps timing 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 71 
 
 To our cymbals' feeblest cbiming', 
 Where thy House its rest accords. 
 Chased and wounded birds are we, 
 Throug-h the dark air fled to thee ; 
 To the shadow of thy wing's, 
 Lord of Lords ! and Kin* of King's ! 
 
 Behold, oh Lord ! the Heathen tread(13) 
 
 The branches of thy fruitful vine, 
 That its luxurious tendrils spread 
 O'er all the hills of Palestine. 
 And now the wild boar comes to waste 
 Even us, tlie g'reenest boughs and last, 
 That, drinking- of thy choicest dew, 
 On Zion's hill in beauty grew. 
 
 No I by the marvels of thine hand, 
 Thou still wilt save thy chosen land ' 
 By all thine ancient mercies shown, 
 By all our fathers' foes o'erthrown ; 
 By the Egyptian's car-borne host, 
 S^catter'd on the Red Sea coast : 
 
72 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 By that wide and bloodless slaughter 
 Underaeath the drowning water. 
 Like us in utter helplessness, 
 In their last and worst distress — 
 On the sand and sea-weed lyings 
 Israel pour*d her doleful sighing^ 
 While before the deep sea flow'd, 
 And behind fierce Egypt rode — 
 To their fathers' God they pray'd. 
 To the Lord of Hosts for aid. 
 
 On the margin of the flood 
 
 WiLh lifted rod the Prophet stood ; 
 
 And the summon'd east wind blew, 
 
 And aside it sternly threw 
 
 The gather'd waves, that took their stand, 
 
 Like crystal rocks, on either hand, 
 
 Or walls of sea-green marble piled 
 
 Round some irregular city wild. 
 
 Then the light of morning lay 
 On the wonder-paved way, 
 
FALL OE JERUSALEM. 73 
 
 Where the treasures of the deep 
 In their caves of coral sleep. 
 The profound abysses, where 
 Was never sound from upper air, 
 Bang with Israel's chanted words, 
 King of Kings ! and Lord of Lords ! 
 
 Then with bow and banner glancing, 
 
 On exulting Egypt came, 
 With her chosen horsemen prancing. 
 
 And her cars on wheels of flame, 
 In a rich and boastful ring 
 Ail around her furious king. 
 
 But the Lord from out his cloud, 
 The Lord look'd down upon the proud ; 
 And the host drave heavily 
 Down the deep bosom of the sea. 
 
 With a quick and sudden swell 
 Prone the liquid ramparts fell; 
 
 7 
 
^4 FALL OF JERUSALEMo 
 
 Over horse, and over car, 
 Over every man of war, 
 Over Pharaoh's crown of gold, 
 The loud thundering billows roll'd. 
 As the level waters spread 
 Down they sank, they sank like lead, 
 Down without a cry or groan. 
 And the morning sun, that shone 
 On myriads of bright-armed men, 
 Its meridian radiance then 
 
 Cast on a wide sea, heaving as of yore. 
 
 Against a silent, solitary shore. 
 
 Then did Israel's maidens sing, 
 
 Then did Israel's timbrels ring. 
 To him, the King of Kings t that in the sea, 
 The Lord of Lords', had triumph'd gloriously. 
 
 And our timbrels' flashing chords, 
 King of Kings', and Lord of Lords '■ 
 Shall they not attuned be 
 Once again to victory > 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM* f5 
 
 Lo ! a glorious triumph now ! 
 
 Lo ! against thy people come 
 A mightier Pharaoh ! wilt not thou 
 
 Craze the chariot wheels of Rome ? 
 Will not, like the Red Sea wave. 
 
 Thy stern anger overthrow ? 
 And from worse than bondage save. 
 
 From sadder than Egyptian vro, 
 Thos^ whose silver cymbals glance. 
 Those who lead the suppliant daoce^ 
 Thy race, the only race that sings 
 Lord of Lords i and Kiog of Kings I 
 
76 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 Streets of Jerusalem — Evening. 
 
 Ah me ! ungentle Eve, how long thou lingerest • 
 Oh ! when it was a grief to me to lose 
 Yon azure mountains, and the lovely vales 
 That from our city walls seem wandering on 
 Under the cedar-tufted precipices ; 
 With what an envious and a hurrying swiftness 
 Didst thou descend, and pour thy mantling dews 
 And dew-like silence o'er the face of things ; 
 Shrouding each spot I loved the most with suddenest 
 And deepest darkness ; making mute the groves 
 Where the birds nestled under the still leaves ! 
 But now, how slowly, heavily thou fallest 1 
 Now, when thou mightest hush the angry din 
 Of battle, and conceal the murtherous foes 
 From mutual slaughter, and pour oil and wine 
 
 I 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. y*i 
 
 Into the achiug hurts of wounded men ! 
 But is it therefore only that I chide thee 
 With querulous impatience ? will the night 
 Once more, the secret, counsel-keeping' night, 
 Veil the dark path which leads to Siloe's fountain ? 
 Which leads — why should I blush to add — to JsiYj^IX? 
 
 Oh thou, my teacher ! J forgot thee not 
 This morning in the Temple — I forgot nojfc 
 The name thou taught'st me to adore, nor jthee— r— 
 But what have I to do with thoughts like these^ 
 While all around the stunning battle roara 
 Like a gorged lion o'er his mangled prey ? 
 Alas • alas ! but the human appetite 
 For shedding blood — that is insatiate ! 
 — Time was, that if I heard a sound of arms, 
 My heart would shudder, and my limbs would fail. 
 When, to have seen a dying man had been 
 A dark event, that with its fearful memory 
 Had haunted many a sad and sleepless nig;ht» 
 But' now— now — — 
 
 7* 
 
78 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 Salone, »Miriam. 
 
 MliilAM. 
 
 Sister ! my Salone ! Sister '• 
 Why art thou flying with that frantic mien, 
 Thy veil cast back and streaming with thine hair ? 
 Oh, harbinge • of misery ! I read 
 A sad disastrous story in thy face ; 
 'Tis o'er, and God hath given the city of David 
 Unto the stranger. 
 
 SAL ONE. 
 
 Oh ! not yet ; our wall, 
 Our last, our strongest wall, is still unshaken. 
 Though the fierce engines with their brazen heads 
 Strike at it sternly and incessantly, 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 Then God preserve the lost ! and oh, our father ! 
 
 SALONE. 
 
 All is not lost '• for Amariah stands 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 79 
 
 Amid the rushing sheets of molten fire, 
 Even like an Angel in the flaming centre 
 
 Of the sun's noontide orb 
 
 Hark ! hark ! — who comes ? 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Back — back — I say, by 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 'Tis my father's voice ! 
 It sounds in wrath, perhaps in blasphemy ; 
 Yet 'tis my living father's voice He's here. 
 
 Simojii Miriam^ Silone. 
 
 Now may your native towers rush o'er your heads 
 With horrible downfall ; may the treacherous stones 
 Start underneath your footing, cast you down, 
 For the iron wheels of vengeance to rush o'er you — 
 Flight '. flight! still flight !— Oh, infidel renegades ! 
 
80 FALL OF JERUSALEM? 
 
 The above, John, Amariahy High^PriesU 4"<'- 
 
 rsTow, by the living God of Israel, John 5 
 Your silken slaves, your golden-sandal'd men,— 
 Your men ! I should have said, your girls of Gali- 
 lee!— 
 They will not soil their dainty hands with blood. 
 Their mjrrh-dew locks are all too smoothly curl'd 
 To let the riotous and dishevelling airs 
 Of battle violate their crisped neatness. 
 Oh ! their nice mincing steps are all unfit 
 To tread the red and slippery paths of warj 
 Yet they can trip it lightly when they turn 
 To fly- — 
 
 JOHN, 
 
 Thoa lying and injurious Pharisee *■ 
 For every man of thine that in the trenches 
 Hardly hath consented to lay down his life. 
 Twice ten of mine have leap'd from off the walls. 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 81 
 
 Grappling a Gentile by the shivering helm, 
 And proudly died upon his dying foe. 
 But tell thou me, thou only faithful Simon ! 
 Where are the men of Edom, whom we saw 
 Stretching their amicable hands in parley, 
 And quietly mingling with the unharraing foe ? 
 
 Where are they ? where the traitors meet, where all 
 The foes of Simon and Jerusalem — 
 In th' everlasting fire ! I slew them, John — 
 Thou saw 'st my red hand glorious with their blood. 
 
 False traitors « in their very treachery false ! 
 They would betray without their lord. — In truth. 
 Treason, like empire, brooks not rivalry. 
 
 Now, by the bones of Abraham our father, 
 I do accuse thee here, false John of Galilee ! 
 Or, if the title please thee, John the Tyrant ! 
 
82 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 Here, in our arm*d, embattled Sanhedrim, 
 Thou art our fall's prime cause, an^ fatal origin I 
 From thee, as from a foul and poisonous fount, 
 Pour the black waters of calamity 
 O'er Judah's land! God hates tliee, man of Belial t 
 And the destroying bolts that fall on thee 
 From the insulted heavens, blast all around thee 
 With spacious and unsparing desolation. 
 Hear me, ye men of Israel ! do ye wonder 
 That all your baffled valour hath recoil'd 
 From the fierce Gentile onset ? that your walls 
 Are prostrate, and your last hath scarce repell'd 
 But now the flushM invader ? 'Tis from this— 
 That the Holy City will not be defended 
 By womanish men and loose adulterers. 
 Hear me, I say ; this son of Gischala, 
 This lustful tyrant, hath he not defiled 
 Your daughters, in the open face of day 
 Done deeds of shame, which midnight hath no dark- 
 ness 
 So deep as to conceal ? It is his pride 
 T*oflend high heaven with crimes before anknowc»~- 
 
PALL OF ^EAUSALEM. 83 
 
 Hath he not mock'd the austere and solemn fasts, 
 And sabbaths of our Law, by revellings 
 And most heaven-tainting wantonness ? Yea, more, 
 Hath he not made God's festivals a false 
 And fraudful pretext for his deeds of guilt ? 
 Yea, on the day of the Unleavened Bread, 
 Even in the garb and with the speech of worship, 
 Went he not up into the very Temple ? (14) 
 And there before the Veil, even in the presence 
 Of th* Holy of Holies, did he not break forth 
 With armed and infuriate violence ? 
 Then did the pavement, which was never red 
 But with the guiltless blood of sacrifice, 
 Reek with the indelible and thrice-foulest stain 
 Of human carnage. Yea, with impious steel 
 He slew the brethren that were kneeling with him 
 At the same altar, uttering the same prayers. 
 (Speak Eleazar, was't not so ? — thou dar'st not 
 Affirm, nor canst deny thine own betrayal.) 
 And since that cursed hour of guilty triumph 
 There hath he held the palace of his lusts, (15) 
 Turning God's Temple to a grove of Belial : 
 
84 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 Even till men wonder that the pillars start not 
 From their fix'd sockets ; that the offended roof 
 Fall not at once, and crush in his own shame 
 The blasphemous invader. Yea, not yet, 
 I have not fathom'd yet his depth of sin. 
 His common banquet is the bread of offering, 
 The vessels of the altar are the cups 
 From which he drains his riotous drunkenness. 
 The incense, that was wont to rise to heaven 
 Pure as an infant's breath, now foully stag-nates 
 Within the pestilent haunts of his lasciviousness. 
 Can these things be, and yet our favour'd .arms 
 Be clad with victory ? Can the Lord of Israel, 
 For us, the scanty remnant of his worshippers. 
 Neglect to vindicate his tainted shrine. 
 His sanctuary profaned, his outraged Laws ? 
 
 Methinks, if Simon had but fought to-day 
 As valiantly as Simon speaks, the foe 
 Had never seen to-morrow's onset— 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. B5 
 
 Brethren, 
 Yet I demand your audience 
 
 Hear him ! hear 
 The righteous Simon! 
 
 Men of Israel i 
 Why stand ye thus in wonder ? where the root 
 Is hollow, can the tree be sound ? Man's deeds 
 Are as Man's doctrines ; and who hopes for ought 
 But wantonness and foul iniquity 
 From that blaspheming and heretical sect. 
 The serpent spawn of Sadoc, that corrupt 
 The Law of Moses and disdain the Prophets ? 
 That grossly do defraud the eternal soul 
 Of its immortal heritage, and doom it 
 To rot for ever with its kindred clay 
 In the graye's deep unbroken prison-house ? 
 8 
 
86 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 Yea, they dispeople with their infidel creed 
 Heaven of its holy Angels ; laug-h to scorn 
 That secret band of ministering Spirits ; 
 That therefore, in their indignation, stand 
 Aloof, and gaze upon our gathering ruin 
 With a contemptuous and pitiless scorn. 
 They that were wont to range around our towers 
 Their sunlight-wiog'd battalia, and to war 
 Upon our part with adamantine arms. 
 
 Oh ! impotent and miserable arguer ! 
 
 Will he that values not the stake as boldly 
 
 Confront the peril as the man that feels 
 
 His all upon the hazard ? Men of Galilee, 
 
 The cup of life hath sparkled to our lips, 
 
 And we have drain'd its tide of love and joy, 
 
 Till our veins almost burst with o'erwrought rapture. 
 
 And well we know, that generous cup, once dash'd. 
 
 Shall never mantle more to the cold lips 
 
 Of the earth-bound dead. And therefore do we fight 
 
 For life as for a mistress, that being lost, 
 
 .Jli 
 
PALL OF JERUSALEM. S7 
 
 Is lost for ever. To be what we are 
 
 Is all we hope or pray for ; think ye, then, 
 
 That we shall tamely yield the contest up, 
 
 And calmly acquiesce in our extinction ? 
 
 We know that there stands yawning at our feet 
 
 The gulf, where dark Annihilation dwells 
 
 With Solitude, her sister ; and we fix 
 
 Our steadfast footing on the perilous verg«, 
 
 And grapple to the last with the fierce foe 
 
 That seeks to plunge us down; and where's the 
 
 strength 
 
 That can subdue despair ? For the other charge. 
 
 We look not, Simon, to the sky, nor pray 
 
 For sightless and impalpable messengers 
 
 To spare us the proud peril of the war. 
 
 Ourselves are our own Angels ! we implore not 
 
 Or supernatural or spiritual aid ; 
 
 We have our own good arms, that God hath given 
 
 us. 
 And valiant hearts to wield those mighty arms. 
 
88 FALL OF JERUSALEM, 
 
 Oh heavens ! oh heavens, ye hear it, and endure it ? 
 Outwearied by the all-frequent blasphemy 
 To an indignant patience ; and the Just 
 Still, still must suffer the enforced alliance 
 Of men whose fellowship is death and ruin. 
 
 Why, thou acknowledged Prince of Murderers I 
 
 Captain Assassin! Lord and Chief of Massacre* 
 
 That pourest blood like water, yet dost deem 
 
 That thou canst wash the foul and scarlet stain 
 
 From thy polluted soul, as easily 
 
 As from thy dainty ever-dabbling- hands. 
 
 That wouldst appease with rite and ordinance. 
 
 And festival, and slavish ceremony, 
 
 And prayers that weary even the stones thou kneel'st 
 
 on, 
 The God whose image hourly thou effacest 
 With mangling and remorseless steel ! 'Tis well 
 That graves are silent, and that dead men's souls 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 89 
 
 Assert not the proud privilege thou wouldst give 
 
 them ; 
 For if they did, Heaven's vaults would ring so loudly 
 With imprecations 'gainst the righteous Simon, 
 That they would pluck by force a plague upon us, 
 To which the Roman, and the wasting famine. 
 Were soft and healing mercies. 
 
 Liar and slave ! 
 There is no rich libation to the All- Just 
 So welcome as the blood of renegades 
 And traitors — — -^ 
 
 MIRIAM (apart.} ] 
 
 Oh ! I dare not listen longer ! 
 
 The big drops stand upon his brow ; his voice 
 
 Is faint and fails, and there's no food at home. 
 
 The night is dark — I'll go once more, or perish. 
 
 [Departs unperceiveS. 
 8* 
 
90 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 Whatj John of Galilee 1 because my voice 
 Is hoarse with speaking of thy crimes, dost scoff, 
 And wag thy head at me, and answer laughter? 
 Now, if thy veins run not pure gall, I'll broach 
 Their tide, and prove if all my creed be false ;— . 
 If traitors' reeking blood smell not to heaveo 
 Like a sweet sacrifice. 
 
 Why, ay ! the victim 
 Is bound to th' horns of th' altar '. Strike, I say, 
 He waits thee— Strike ! 
 
 HIGH-PRIEST. 
 
 Hold, Chiefs of Israel 5 
 Just Simon ! valiant John ! once more I dare 
 To cast myself between you, the High-Priestj 
 Who by his holy office calls on you 
 To throw aside your trivial private wrongs, 
 And vindicate offence more rank and monstrous. 
 
FALL OP JERUSALEM. 9i 
 
 Avenge your God ! and then avenge yourselves 1 
 
 The Temple is polluted — Israel's Lord 
 
 Mock'd in his presence. Prayers even thence have 
 
 risen. 
 Prayers from the jealous holy Sanctuary, 
 Even to the Crucified Man our fathers slew. 
 
 JEWS. 
 
 The Crucified! the Man of Nazareth ! 
 
 HIGH-PRIEST. 
 
 This morn, as wont, our maidens had gone up 
 
 To chant their suppliant hymn ; and they had raised 
 
 The song that Israel on the Red Sea shore 
 
 Took up triumphant ; and they clos'd the strain, 
 
 That, like th' Egyptian and his car-borne host, 
 
 The billows of Heaven's wrath might overwhehn 
 
 The Qentile foe, and so preserve Jerusalem ; 
 
 Wh^n at the close and fall a single voice 
 
 Linger'd upon the note, with, " Be it done 
 
 ** Through Jesus Christ, thine only Son." 
 
 IMy spirit shrank within me ; horror-struck, 
 
92 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 I listen'd ; all was silence ! Then again 
 I look'd upon the veiled damsels, all 
 With one accord took up the swelling' strain 
 To him that triumph'd gloriously. I turn'd 
 To the Ark and Mercy Seat, and then again 
 I heard that single, soft, melodious voice, 
 " Lord of Mercies be it done, 
 " Through Jesus Christ, thine only Son." 
 Here, then, assembled Lords of Israel, 
 Whoever be the victim, I demand her; 
 Your wisdom must detect, your justice wreak 
 Pit punishment upon the accursed sacrilege. 
 
 SALONE (apart.) 
 
 Miriam ! Miriam I Ha ! — She's fled Guilt ! Guilt 
 
 Prophetic of the damning accusation 
 It doth deserve ! Apostate ! 'twere a sin 
 Against Jerusalem and Heaven to spare thee ! 
 
 HIGH-PRIEST. 
 
 I do commend you, brethren, for your silence ! 
 
FALL 6P JERUSALEM. 93 
 
 I see the abhorrence labouring' in your hearts. 
 Too deep and too infuriate for words. 
 
 Now, if it were my child, my Sarah's child, 
 
 The child that she died blessing, I'd not sleep 
 
 Till the stones crush her. Yea, thus, thus I'd grasp, 
 
 And hurl destruction on her guilty head. 
 
 Here, John, I pledge mine hand to thee, till ven° 
 
 geance 
 Seize on the false and insolent blasphemer. 
 SALONE, {half unveiled, rushing forwardi stops irrS" 
 solutely.) 
 Their eyes oppress me— my heart chokes my voice-^ 
 And my lips cling together — ^~-0h ! my mother, 
 Upon thy death-bed didst thou not beseech us 
 To love each other ! 
 
 HIGH-PBIE8T. 
 
 Veiled maid, what art thou ? 
 
94 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 SALONE. 
 
 Off! off! the blood of Abraham swells within me— 
 
 As F cast do WD my veil, I cast away 
 
 All fear, all tenderness, all fond remorse. 
 
 It is too good a death for one so guilty 
 
 To perish for Jerusalem 
 
 {She stands unveiled, 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Salone ! 
 
 HIGH-PRIEST. 
 
 The admired daughter of the noble Simon i 
 
 VOICE AT A DISTANCE. 
 
 Israel! Israel! 
 
 HIGH-PRIEST. 
 
 Who is this, that speaks 
 With such a shrilling accent of command? 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 95 
 
 VOICE. 
 
 Israel! Israel! 
 
 JEWS, 
 
 Back ! give place ! the Prophet ! 
 ABiRAM {the false prophet^ 
 Israel! Israel! 
 
 HIGH-PRIEST, 
 
 Peace ! 
 
 Ay ! peace, I say ! 
 The wounds are bound j the blood is slanch'd ! and 
 
 hate 
 Is tum'd to love ! and rancorous jealousy 
 To kindred concord I and the clashing swords 
 To bridal sounds ! the fury of the feud 
 To revel and the jocund nuptial feast. 
 
96 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 HIGH-PRIEST. 
 
 What means Abiram ? 
 
 ABIRAM. 
 
 It is from on High. 
 Brave Amariah, son of John ! Salone, 
 Daughter of Simon ! thus I join their hands ; 
 And thus I bless the wedded and the beautiful ! 
 And thus I bind the Captains of Jerusalem 
 In the strong bonds of unity and peace. 
 
 And where is now the wine for the bridegroom's rosy- 
 cup? (16) 
 And the tabret and the harp for the chamber of 
 the bride ? 
 
 Lo ! bright as burnish'd gold the lamps are spark- 
 ling up, 
 And the odours of the incense are breathing far 
 and wide ; 
 
 And the maidens's feet are glancing in the vir^ims* 
 wedding train j 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 97 
 
 And the sad streets of Salem are alire with joy 
 again ! 
 
 THE JEWS. 
 
 Long live Salone ! Long live Amariat ! 
 
 SALONE. 
 
 Am I awake ? — how came I here unveil'd 
 Among the bold and glaring eyes of men ? 
 
 THE JEWS. 
 
 Long live Salone ! Long live Amariah ! 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 lie speaks from Heaven— -accept'st thou, John of 
 
 Galilee, 
 Heaven's terms of peace ? 
 
 From earth or heaven, I^care not-«- 
 VVhat says my boy ? 
 
 9 
 
98 FALL OP JERUSALEM, 
 
 Oh ! rqither let me ask, 
 What says the maid ? Oh ! raven-hair'd Salone, 
 Why dost thou crowd thy jealous veil around thee r 
 Look on me freely ; beauteous in thy freedom ; 
 As when this morn I saw thee, on our walls, 
 Thy hair cast back, and bare thy marble brow 
 To the bright wooing- of the enamour'd sun*: 
 They were my banner, Beauty, those dark locks ; 
 And in the battle 'twas my pride, my strength. 
 To think that eyes like thine were gazing on me.> 
 
 Oh no, thou saw'st me not ! — Oh, Amariah I 
 
 What Prophets speak must be fulfill'd. 'Twere 
 
 vain 
 T' oppose at once the will of Heaven — and thee. 
 
 JOHN. 
 
 Now, if there be enough of generous food. 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 99 
 
 A cup of wine in all the wasted city, 
 We'll have a jocund revel. 
 
 Prophet Abiram, 
 I have a question for thy secret ear. 
 Thou man, whose eyes are purged from earthly film> 
 Seest thou no further down the tide of time ? 
 Beyond this bridal, nothing-? — Answer me! 
 For it should seem this designated union 
 Of two so noble, this conspiring blood 
 Of Israel's chiefs, portends some glorious fruit 
 To ripen in the deep futurity. 
 
 ABIRAM. 
 
 Simon, what meanest thou ? 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 The Hope of Israel j 
 Shall it not dawn from darkness ? Oh ! begot 
 In Judah's hour of peril, and conceived 
 
100 f ALL or JERUSALExM. 
 
 In her extreme of agony, what birth 
 
 So meet and fitting for the great Discorafiter ? 
 
 ABIRAM. 
 
 A light falls on me. 
 
 Prophet ! what shall d^'e 
 The roBe of purple with so bright a grain 
 As Roman blood ? Before our gates are met 
 The lords of empire, and our walls may laugh 
 Their siege to licorn, even till the Branch be grown 
 That's not yet planted — Yea, the wrested sceptre 
 
 Of earth, the sole dominion Back, Abiram, 
 
 To thy prophetic cave — kneel, pray, fast, weep ; 
 And thou shalt bless us with far nobler tidings, 
 And we will kiss thy feet, thou Harbinger 
 Of Judah's glory 
 
 Now lead on the Bridal. 
 Blow trumpets ! shout, exulting Israel ! 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 101 
 
 Siiout Amariah! shout again Saione'- 
 
 Shout louder yet, the Bridegroom and the Bride 5 
 
 Rejoice, oh Zion, now on all thy hills ! 
 
 City of David, through thy streets rejoice ! 
 
 ^* 
 
lijiZ FALL OF JERtrSAliEM. 
 
 Fountain of Siloe-^J^Hght—^Jln approaching Storm'. 
 
 i MIRIAM. 
 
 He is not here ! and yet he might have known 
 That the cold gloom of the tempestuous skies 
 Could never change a faithful heart like mine. 
 He might have known me not a maid to love 
 Under the melting moonlight, and soft stars, 
 And to fall off in darkness and in storm. 
 Ah ! seal'd for ever be my slanderous lips ! 
 Alas ! it is the bitterest pang of misery 
 That it will force from us unworthy doubts 
 Of the most tried and true. Oh, Javan, Javan ! 
 It was but now that with presumptuous heart 
 1 did repine against the all -gracious heavens, 
 That wrapt me round in charitable darkness, 
 Because my erring feet had well-nigh raiss'd 
 l^heir known familiar path. 
 
FAliL OF JERUSALEI^. 103 
 
 Javan. Miriann, 
 
 What's there ? I see 
 A white and spirit-like gleaminff— It must be ! 
 I see her not, yet feel that it is Miriam, 
 By the indistinct and dimly visible grace 
 That haunts her motions ; by her tread, that falls 
 Trembling and soft like moonlight on the earth. 
 What dost thou here ? now — now ? where every mo-r 
 
 ment 
 The soldiers prowl, and meeting sentinels 
 Challenge each other ? I have watch'd for thee 
 As prisoners for the hour of their deliverance ; 
 Yet did I pray, love ! thkt thou might'st not come, 
 Even that thou might'st be faithless to thy vows, 
 
 Rather than meet this peril Miriam, 
 
 Why art thou here ? 
 
 MIBIAM. 
 
 Does Javan ask me why ? 
 
104 FALL OP JERUSALEM. 
 
 Because I saw my father pine with hunger- 
 Because 1 never hope to come again. 
 
 Too true ! this night, this fatal night, if Heaven 
 Strike not their conquering host, the foe achieves 
 His lardy victory|i|, Round the shatter'd walls 
 There is the smother'd hum of preparation. 
 With stealthy footsteps, and with muffled arms, 
 Along the trenches, round the lowering engines, 
 I saw them gathering ; men stood whispering men, 
 As though revealing some portentous secret ; 
 At every sound cried, Hist ! and look'd reproach- 
 fully 
 Upon each other. Now and then a light 
 From some far part of the encircling camp 
 Breaks suddenly out, and then is quench'd as sud- 
 denly. 
 The forced unnatural quiet, that pervades 
 Those myriads of arm'd and sleepless warriors, 
 Presages earthly tempest ; as yon clouds^ 
 That in their mute and ponderous blaclpiess hang 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 105 
 
 Ovex our heads, a tumult in the slries — 
 
 The earth and heaven alike are terribly calm. 
 
 ^, MIRIAM. 
 
 Alas ! alas ! give me the food ! let's say 
 Farewell as fondly aS a dying man 
 Should say it to a dying womanj^ 
 
 Javan. 
 
 Miriam ! 
 It shall not be. J/«, He hath given command, 
 That when the signs are manifest, we should flee(17) 
 Unto the mountains.* 
 
 Javan, tempt me not^ 
 My soul is weak. Hast thou not said of old, 
 How dangerous 'tis to wrest the words of truth 
 To the excusing our own fond desires } 
 There's an eternal mandate,Tinrepeal'd, 
 
 * Matt. xxiv. 16. 
 
106 FALL OF JERUSALEM, 
 
 Nor e'er to be rescinded, " Love thy Father !" 
 God speaks with many voices : one in hearty 
 True though instinctive ; one in the Holy Law, 
 The first that's coupled with a gracious promise^ 
 
 JAVAN. v».':? 
 
 Yet are his words,|fe Leave all, and follow rae, 
 
 " Thou shalt not love thy father more than me" — * 
 
 Dar'st disobey them ? 
 
 Javan, while I tread 
 The path of duty I am following him, 
 And, loving whom [ ought to love, love him. 
 
 If thou couldst save or succour — if this night 
 Were not the last— 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 Oh, dearest, think awhile '. 
 
 * Matt. X. 7. 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 107 
 
 It matters little at what hour o' the day 
 
 The righteous falls asleep— death cannot come 
 
 To him untimely who is fit to die : 
 
 The less of this cold world — the more of heaven ; 
 
 The briefer life — the earlier immortality. 
 
 But every moment to the man of guilt 
 
 And bloodshed, one like* ah me ! like my father, 
 
 Each instant rescued from the grasp of death, 
 
 May be a blessed chosen opportunity 
 
 For the everlasting mercy — Think what 'tis 
 
 For time's minutest period to delay 
 
 An infidel's death, a murderer's ' 
 
 Go ! go, dearest ! 
 If I were dying, I would have thee go. — 
 Oh ! thou inspher'd unearthly loveliness ! 
 Danger may gather round thee, like the clouds 
 Round one of heaven's pure stars, thou'lt hold 
 
 within 
 Thy course unsullied. 
 
108 FALL OF JERUSALEM* 
 
 MIRFAM. 
 
 This is worse than all ! 
 Oh ! mock not thus with vVild extravagant praise 
 A very weak and most unworthy girl. 
 Javan, one last, one parting word with thee :— 
 There have been times, when I have said light 
 
 words, 
 As maidens use, that made thy kind heart bleed ; 
 There have been moments, when I have seen thee 
 
 sad, 
 And I have cruelly sported with thy sadness : 
 I have been proud, oh ! very proud, to hear 
 Thy fond lips dwell on beauty, when thine eyes 
 Were on this thin and wasted form of mine. 
 Forgive rae, oh ! forgive me, for I deem'd 
 The hour would surely come, when the fond bride 
 Might well repay the maiden's waywardness. 
 Oh ! look not thus o'erjoy'd, for if I thought 
 We e'er could meet again this side the grave, 
 Trust me, I had been charier of my tenderness. 
 Yet one word more— I do mistrust thee, Javan, 
 
FALL OF JERtI SALEM. 109 
 
 Though coldly thou dost labour to conceal it ; 
 Thou hast some frantic scheme to risk for mine 
 Thy precious life — Beseech thee, heap not thou 
 More sorrows on the o'erburthen'd. 
 
 JAVAN. 
 
 Think'st thou, then> 
 1 have no trust but in this arm of flesh 
 To save thee ? 
 
 Oh, kind Javan ! pray not thou 
 That I may live ; that is too wild a prayer : 
 That I may die unspotted, be thy suit 
 To Him who loves the spotless. 
 
 Ha— the thought ! 
 It pierces like a sword into my heart ! 
 10 
 
no FALL OF JERUSALEItf. 
 
 And think'st thou mine unwounded ?— Fare thee 
 
 weJl! 
 Our presence does but rack each other's souls. 
 Farewell ! and if thou lovest when I amdead> 
 May she be to thee, all I hoped to be. 
 
 Go — go— 
 
 Thou bidstme part, and yet detain^strae 
 With cling-ing grasp — ah no, 'tis I clasp thee. 
 I knew not that my fond unconscious hand 
 Had been so bold — Oh, Javaa ! ere the morn 
 'Twill ha?e no power t' offend thee— 'twill be cold. 
 
 JAVAN. 
 
 Offend me ! Miriam, when thou'rt above 
 Araong the Saints, and I in the sinful world, 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. Ill 
 
 How terrible 'twill be if I should forfeit 
 The hope of meeting' thee in blessedness-. 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 Forfeit ! with faith like thine ? 
 
 JAVAN. 
 
 Thou well rebukest me. 
 To thy Redeemer I commit thee now. 
 To leave thee here, or take thee to himself. 
 Farewell, farewell ! the life of this sad heart— • 
 
 Dearer than life 1 look for thee, and lo ! 
 
 Nought but blind darkness 
 
 Save where yon mad city, 
 As though at peace and in luxurious joy, 
 Is hanging out her bright and festive lamps. 
 
 There have been tears from holier eyes than mine 
 Pour'd o'er thee, Zion ! yea-, the Son of Man 
 This thy devoted hour foresaw and wept. 
 And I— can I refrain from weeping ? Yes, 
 
112 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 My country, in thy darker destiny 
 Will I awhile forget mine own distresrs. 
 
 I feel it now, the sad, the coming hour ; 
 
 The signs are full, and never shall the sun 
 Shine on the cedar roofs of Salem more ; 
 
 Her tale of splendour now is told and done ; 
 Her wine-cup of festivity is spilt, 
 And all is o'er, her grandeur and her guilt. 
 
 Oh ! fair and favoured city, where of old 
 The balmy airs were rich with melody, 
 That led her pomp beneath the cloudless sky 
 In vestments flaming with the orient gold ; 
 Her gold is dim, and mute her music's voice, 
 The Heathen o'er her perish'd pomp rejoice. 
 How stately then was every palm-deck'd street, 
 Down which the maidens danced with tinkling feet; 
 
 How proud the elders in the lofty gate ! 
 How crowded all her nation's solemn feasts 
 With white-rob'd Levites and high-mitred Priests ; 
 
 How gorgeous all her Temple's sacred slate ! 
 Her streets are razed, her maidens sold for slaves, 
 
PALL OP JERTISALEM. IIS 
 
 Her gates thrown down, her elders in their graves; 
 Her feasts are holden 'mid the Gentile's scorn. 
 By stealth her Priesthood's holy garments worn ; 
 And where her Temple crown'd the glittering rock, 
 The wandering shepherd folds his evening flock. 
 
 When shall the work of death begin ? 
 When come the avengers of proud Judah's sin ? 
 Aceldama ! accurs'd and guilty ground, 
 Gird well the city in thy dismal bound, 
 
 Her price is paid, and she is sold like thou ; 
 Let every ancient monument and tomb 
 Enlarge the border of its vaulted gloom, 
 
 Their spacious chambers all are wanted now. 
 
 But nevermore shall yon lost city need 
 Those secret places for her future dead ; 
 Of all her children, when this night is pass'd, 
 Devoted Salem's darkest, and her last, 
 Of all her children none is left to her. 
 Save those whose house is in the sepulchre. 
 
 10* 
 
114 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 Yet, guilty city, who shall mourn for thee r" 
 
 Shall Christian voices wail thy devastation -' 
 Look down ! look down, avenged Calvary, 
 
 Upon thy late yet dreadful expiation. 
 Oh ! long foretold, though slow accomplish 'd fate, 
 " Her house is left unto her desolate ;" 
 Proud CjEsar's ploughshare o'er her ruins driven, 
 Fulfils at length the tardy doom of heaven ; 
 The wrathful vial's drops at length are pour'd 
 On the rebellions race that crucified their Lord ! 
 
TALL OF JERUSALEM. 115 
 
 Streets of Jerusalem — JVight. 
 Many Jews meeting. 
 
 Saw ye it, father ? saw ye what the city 
 
 Stands gazing" at ? As I pass'd through the streets, 
 
 There were pale women wandering up and down ; 
 
 And on the house-tops there were haggard faces 
 
 Turn'd to the heavens, where'er the ghostly light 
 
 Fell on them. Even the prowling plunderers, 
 
 That break our houses for suspected food, 
 
 Their quick and stealthful footsteps check, and gasp 
 
 In wonder. They, that in deep weariness, 
 
 Or wounded in the battle of the morn, 
 
 Had cast themselves to slumber on the stones, 
 
 Lift up their drowsy heads, and languidly 
 
 Do shudder at the sight. 
 
116 FALL OP JERUSALEM. 
 
 SECOND JEW. 
 
 What sight ? what say'st thou ? 
 
 FIRST JEW. 
 
 The star, the star, the fiery-tressed star, 
 That all this fatal year hath hung in the heavens 
 Above us, gleaming like a bloody sword. 
 Twice hath it moved. Men cried aloud, " A tem- 
 pest! 
 And there was blackness, as of thunder clouds ; 
 But yet that angry sign glared fiercely through them^ 
 And the third time, with slow and solemn motion, 
 'Twas shaken and brandished. 
 
 SECOND JEW, 
 
 Timorous boy I thou speak'st 
 As though these things were strange. Why now we 
 
 sleep 
 With prodigies ablaze in all the heavens, 
 And the earth teeming with portentous signs> 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 117 
 
 As sound as when the moon and constant stars 
 Beam'd quietly upon the slumbering earth 
 Their customary fires. Dost thou remember, 
 At Pentecost, when all the land of Judah 
 Stood round the Altar, at the dead of night, 
 A Light broke out, and all the Temple shone 
 With the meteorous glory ? 'twas not like 
 The light of sun or moon, but it was clear 
 And bright as either, only that it wither'd 
 Men's faces to a hue like death. 
 
 THIRD JEW. 
 
 'Twas strange ! 
 And, if I err not, on that very day. 
 The Priest led forth the spotless sacrifice, 
 And as he led it, it fell down, and cast 
 Its young upon the sacred pavement. 
 
 FOURTH JEW. 
 
 Brethren, 
 Have ye forgot the eve, when war broke out 
 liven in the heavens ? all the wide northern sky 
 
118 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 Was rocking- with arm'd men and fiery chariots. 
 With an abrupt and sudden noiselessness, 
 Wildly, confusedly they crossed and mingled, 
 As when the Red Sea waves dash'd to and fro 
 The crazed cars of Pharaoh—. 
 
 THIRD JEW. 
 
 Who comes here 
 In his white robes so hastily ? 
 
 FIRST JEW. 
 
 'Tis the Levite, 
 The Holy Aaron. 
 
 LEVITE. 
 
 Brethren ! Oh, my Brethren ! 
 
 THE JEWS. 
 
 Speak, Eabbi, all our souls thirst for thy words. 
 
 LEVITE. 
 
 But now within the Temple, as I minister'd. 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM, 11^ 
 
 There was a silence round us ; the wild sounds 
 Of the o'erwearied war had fallen asleep. 
 A silence, even as though all earth were fix'd 
 Like us in adoration, when the gate, 
 The Eastern gate, with all its ponderous bars 
 And bolts of iron, started wide asunder. 
 And all the strength of man doth vainly toil 
 To close the stubborn and rebellious leaves, 
 
 FIRST JEW. 
 
 What now ? 
 
 ANOTHER JEW. 
 
 What now ! why all things sad and monstrous. 
 The Prophets stand aghast, and vainly seek, 
 Amid the thronging and tumultuous signs 
 Which crowd this wild disastrous night, the intent 
 Of the Eternal. Wonder breaks o'er wonder, 
 Aspclouds roll o*er each other in the skies ; 
 And Terror, wantoning with man's perplexity. 
 No sooner hath infix'd the awed attention 
 
120 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 Oq some strange prodigy, than it straight distracts it 
 To a stranger and more fearful. 
 
 THIRD JEW. 
 
 Hark ! what's there ? 
 Fresh horror ! 
 
 {At a distance.) 
 
 To the sound of timbrels sweet, (18) 
 Moving slow our solemn feet, 
 We have borne thee on the road, 
 To the virgin's blest abode ; 
 With thy yellow torches gleaming, 
 And thy scarlet mantle streaming, 
 And the canopy above 
 Swaying as we slowly move. 
 
 Thou hast left the joyous feast, 
 And the mirth and wine have ceased ; 
 And now we set thee down before >^^£ 
 The jealously-unclosing door ; 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 121 
 
 That the favour'd youth admits 
 Where the veiled virgin sits 
 Id the bliss of maiden fear, 
 Waiting- our soft tread to hear, 
 And the music's brisker din, 
 At the bridegroom's entering in, 
 Entering in a welcome guest 
 To the chamber of his rest. 
 
 SECOND JEW. 
 
 It is the bridal song of Amariah 
 And fair Salone. In the house of Simon 
 The rites are held ; nor bears the Bridegroom home 
 His plighted Spouse, but there doth deck bis cham- 
 ber; 
 These perilous times dispensing with the rigour 
 Of ancient usage—— 
 
 VOICE WITHIN. 
 
 Wo! wo! wo- 
 11 
 
122 FALL OF JERUSALEM* 
 
 FIRST JEW, 
 
 Alas. I 
 
 The son of HaDaniah ! is't not he ? 
 
 THIRD JEW. 
 
 Whomsaid'st? 
 
 SECOND JEW. 
 
 Art thou a stranger in Jerusalenij 
 That thou rememberest not that fearful man ? 
 
 FOURTH JEW. 
 
 Speak ! speak ! we know not all. 
 
 SECOND JEW. 
 
 Why thus it was : 
 A rude and homely dresser of the vine, 
 He had come up to the Feast of Tabernacles^ 
 When suddenly a spirit fell upon him, 
 Evil or g-ood we know not. Ever since, 
 (And now seven years are past since it befell, 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. l^S 
 
 Our city then being prosperous and at peace,) 
 He hath gone wandering through the darkling streets 
 At midnight under the cold quiet stars ; 
 He hath gone wandering through the crowded mar- 
 ket 
 At noonday under the bright blazing sun. 
 With that one ominous cry of *♦ Wo, wo, wo!" 
 Some scofF'd and mock'd him, some would give hira 
 
 food ; 
 He neither curs'd the one, nor thank'd the other. 
 The Sanhedrim bade scourge him, and myself 
 Beheld him lash'd till the bare bones stood out 
 Through the maim'd flesh, still he only cried, 
 Wo to the City, till his patience wearied 
 The angry persecutors. When they freed him, 
 'Ttvas still the same, the incessant Wo, wo, wo. 
 But when our siege began, awhile he ceased, 
 As though his prophecy were fulfiil'd ; till now 
 We had not heard his dire and boding voice. 
 
 Wo ! wo ! wo I 
 
124 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 Joshua, the Son of Hananiah. 
 
 Wo I wol 
 A voice from the East ! a voice from the West t 
 From the four winds a voice against Jerusalem I 
 A voice against the Temple of the Lord ! 
 A voice against the Bridegrooms and the Brides ? 
 A voice against all the people of the land ! 
 
 Wo! wo! wo! 
 
 SECOND JEW. 
 
 They are the very words, the very voice 
 
 Which we have heard so long. And yet, methinks, 
 
 There is a mournful triumph in the tone 
 
 Ne'er heard before. His eyes, that were of old 
 
 Fix'd on the earth, now wander all abroad, 
 
 As though the tardy consummation 
 
 Afflicted him with wonder Hark ! again. 
 
 CHORUS OF MAIDENS. 
 
 Now the jocund song is thine, 
 JBride of David's kingly line I 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 125 
 
 How thy dove-like bosom trembleth, 
 And thy shrouded eye resembleth 
 Violets, when the dews of eve 
 A moht and tremulous glitter leave 
 On the bashful sealed lid 
 Close witiim the bride-veil hid ; 
 Motionless thou sit'st and mute, 
 Save that at the soft salute 
 Of each entering maiden friend 
 Thou dost rise and softly bend. 
 
 Hark ! a brisker, merrier glee • 
 The door unfolds — 'tis he, 'tis he. 
 Thus we lift our lamps to meet him, 
 Thus we touch our lutes to greet him. 
 Thou shalt give a fonder meeting. 
 Thou shalt give a tenderer greeting. 
 
 Wo! wo! 
 
 A voice from the East ! a voice from the West ] 
 
 From the four winds a voice against Jerusalem • 
 
 11* 
 
126 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 A voice against the Temple of the Lord ! 
 
 A voice against the Bridegrooms and the Brides ! 
 
 A voice against all people of the land ! 
 
 Wo ! wo ! [Bursts away^ followed by Second 
 
 Jew."] 
 
 Didst speak ? 
 
 FIRST JEW. 
 
 THIRD JEW. 
 
 No. 
 
 FOURTH JEW. 
 
 Look'd he on us as he spake ? 
 
 FIRST JEW, (to the Second returning.) 
 Thou foUow'dst him ! what now ? 
 
 SECOND JEW. 
 
 'Twas a True Prophet I 
 
FALL OF JERUSALieMc 12? 
 
 THE JEWS, 
 
 Wherefore ? Where went he? 
 
 SECOND JEW. 
 
 To the outer wall ; 
 And there he suddenly cried oat and sternly, 
 ** A voice against the son of Haaaniah ! 
 *' Wo, wo !" and at the instant, whether struck 
 By a chance stone from the enemy's engines, down 
 He sank and died ! 
 
 THIRD JEW. 
 
 There's some one comes this way- 
 Art sure he died indeed ? 
 
 LEVITE. 
 
 It is the High-Priest. 
 The ephod gleams through the pale lowering night; 
 The breastplate gems, and the pure mitre-gold, 
 Shine lamp-like, and the bells that fringe his robe 
 Chime faintly. 
 
12© FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 HIGH-PRIEST. 
 
 Israel, hear ! I do beseech you, 
 Brethren, give ear ! — 
 
 SECOND JEW. 
 
 Who's he that will not hear 
 The words of God's High-Priest? 
 
 HIGH-PRIEST. 
 
 It was but now 
 I sate within the Temple, in the court 
 That's consecrate to mine office — Your eyes wan- 
 der — 
 
 Goon'^ 
 
 HIGH-PRIEST. 
 
 Why hearken, then — Upon a sudden 
 The pavement seem'd to swell beneath my feet, 
 And the Veil shiver'd, and the pillars rock'd. 
 
PALL OP JERUSALEM. 129 
 
 And there, within the very Holy of Holies, 
 There, from behind the winged Cherubim, 
 Where the Ark stood, a noise, hurried and tumultu- 
 ous, 
 Was heard, as when a king with all his host 
 l Doth quit his palace. And anon, a voice, 
 Or voices, half in grief, half anger, yet 
 Nor human grief nor anger, even it seem'd 
 As though the hoarse and rolling thunder spake 
 With the articulate voice of man, it said, 
 ** Let us depart !" 
 
 Most terrible ! What follow'd ? 
 Speak on ! speak on ! 
 
 HIGH-PRIEST. 
 
 I know not why, I felt 
 As though an outcast from the abandon'd Temple, 
 And fled. 
 
130 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 Oh God ! and Father of our Fathers, 
 Dost thou desert us ? 
 
 CHORUS OP YOUTHS AND MAlDENS. 
 
 Under a happy planet art thou led, 
 
 Oh, chosen Virgin ! to thy bridal bed. 
 So put thou off thy soft and bashful sadness, 
 
 And wipe away the timid maiden tear — 
 Lo ! redolent with the Prophet's oil of gladness, 
 
 And mark'd by heayen, the Bridegroom Youth 
 is here. 
 
 FIRST JEW. 
 
 Hark— hark ! an armed tread ! 
 
 SECOND JEW. 
 
 The bold Ben Cathla I 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 131 
 
 BEN CATHLA. 
 
 Ay, ye are met, all met, as in a mart, 
 
 T' exchange against each other your dark tales 
 
 Of this night's fearful prodigies. I know it, 
 
 By the inquisitive and half-suspicious looks 
 
 With which ye eye each other, ye do wish 
 
 To disbelieve all ye have heard, and yet 
 
 Ye dare not. If ye have seen the moon unsphered, 
 
 And the stars fall; if the pale-sheeted ghosts 
 
 Have met you wandering, and have pointed at you 
 
 With ominous designation ; yet I scoff 
 
 Your poor and trivial terrors — Know ye Michol ? 
 
 Michol I 
 
 BEN CATHLA. 
 
 The noble lady, she whose fathers 
 Dwelt beyond Jordan 
 
132 FALL OF JERUSALEM, 
 
 SECOND JEW. 
 
 Yes, we know her. 
 The tender and the delicate of women,(19) 
 That would not set her foot upon the ground 
 For delicacy and very tenderness. 
 
 BEN CATHLA. 
 
 The same ! — We had g-one forth in quest of food : 
 And we had enterM many a house, where rnea 
 Were preying upon meagre herbs and skins ; 
 And some were sating upon lopthsome things 
 Unutterable, the ravening hunger. Some, 
 Whom we had pluader'd oft, laugh'd in their agony 
 To see us baffled. At her door she met us, 
 Aud " We have feasted together heretofore," 
 She said, " most welcome warriors !" and she led uSy 
 And bade us sit like dear and honoured guests, 
 While she made ready. Some among us wonder'd. 
 And some gpake jeericgly, and thack'd the lady 
 That she had thus with provident care reserved 
 The choicest banquet for our scarcest daysc 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM, 133 
 
 But ever as she busily minister'd, 
 Quick, sudden sobs of laughter broke from her. 
 At length the vessel's covering she raised up, 
 And there it lay 
 
 HIGH -PRIEST. 
 
 What lay ? — Thou'rt sick and pale, 
 
 BEN CATHLA. 
 
 By earth and heaven, the remnant of a child ! 
 
 A human child ! Ay, start ! so started we — 
 
 Whereat she sbriek'd aloud, and clapp'd her hands ; 
 " Oh ! dainty and fastidious appetites ! 
 " The mother feasts upon her babe, and strangers 
 *' Loathe the repast" — and then — " My beautiful 
 
 child ! 
 •^ The treasure of my womb ! my bosom's joy l" 
 And then in her cool rradness did she spurn us 
 Out of her doors. Oh still — oh still I hear her. 
 And I shall hear her till my day of death. 
 12 
 
134 PALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 HIGH-PRIEST. 
 
 Oil, God of Mercies ! this was once thy city I 
 
 Joy to thee, beautiful and bashful Bride ! 
 
 Joyi for the thrills of pride and joy become tbee| 
 
 Thy curse of barrenness is taken from thee ; 
 And thou shalt see the rosy infant sleeping 
 
 Upon the snowy fountain of thy breast ; 
 
 And thou shalt feel how mothers' hearts are blest 
 By hours of bliss for moment*s pain and weeping. 
 
 Joy to thee ! 
 
 The abovCf Simony John. 
 
 Away ! what do ye in our midnight streets? 
 
 Go sleep ! go sleep ! or we shall have to lash you, 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 135 
 
 When the horn summons to the morning^'s war, 
 From out your drowsy beds Away ! I say. 
 
 HIGH-PRIEST. 
 
 Simon, thou know'st not the dark sig4is abroad. 
 
 Ay ! is't not fearful and most ominous 
 
 That the sun shines not at deep midnight ? Mark 
 
 me, 
 Ye men with gasping- lips and shivering limbs, 
 Thou mitred priest, and ye misnamed warriors, 
 If ye infect with your pale aguish fears 
 Our valiant city, we'll not leave you limbs 
 To shake, nor voices to complain — T' your homes. 
 
 Simon, John. 
 
 JOHN. 
 
 In truth, good Simon, I am half your proselyte ; 
 
136 FALL OF JERUSALEaf. 
 
 Brave Joho, 
 My soul is jocund. Expectation soars 
 Before mine eyes, like to a new-fledg-ed eagle, 
 And stoopeth from her heavens with palms ne'er 
 
 worn 
 lBy brows of Israel. Glory mounts with her, 
 Her deep seraphic trumpet swelling loud 
 O'er Zion's gladdening towers. 
 
 Why, then, to sleep. 
 This fight by day, and revel all the night, 
 Needs some repose — I'll to my bed — Farewell I 
 
 Brave John, farewell ! and I'll to rest, and dream 
 Upon the coming honours of to-morrow. 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 137 
 
 To-morrow ! will that morrow dawn upon thee ? 
 I've warned them, I have lifted up my voice 
 As loud as 'twere an angel's, and well nigh 
 Had I betray 'd my secret : they but scoff 'd^ 
 And aslrd how long- 1 had been a prophetess? 
 But that injurious John did foully taunt me, 
 As though I envied my lost sister's bridal. 
 And when I clung to my dear father's neck. 
 With the close fondness of a last embrace, 
 He shook me from him. 
 
 But, ah me I how strange ! 
 This moment, and the hurrying streets were full 
 As at a festival ; now all's so silent 
 That I might hear the footsteps of a child. 
 The sound of dissolute mirth hath ceased, the lamps 
 Are spent, the voice of music broken off. 
 No watchman's tread comes from the silent wall, 
 
 12* 
 
138 FALt OF JERUSALEM* 
 
 There arc nor lights nor voices in the tovrers. 
 The hungry have given up their idle search 
 For food, the gazers on the heavens are gone, 
 Even fear's at rest — all still as in a sepulchre ! 
 And thou liest sleeping, oh Jerusalem ! 
 A deeper slumber could not fall upon thee, 
 If thou wert desolate of all thy children^ 
 And thy razed streets a du e]img-place for owls. 
 
 I do mistake ! this is the Wilderness, 
 The Desert, where winds pass and make no sound, 
 And not the populous city, the besieged 
 And overhung with tempest. Why, my voice, 
 My motion, breaks upon the oppressive stillness 
 Like a forbidden and disturbing sound. 
 The very air's asleep, my feeblest breathing 
 
 Is audible — I'll think my prayers — and then ^ 
 
 ■ ^Ha ! 'tis the thunder of the Living God ! 
 
 It peals ! it crashes ! it comes down in fire ! 
 
 Again! it is the engine of the foe, 
 
 Our walls are dust before it Wake — oh wake — 
 
 Oh Israel ! — Oh Jerusalem, awake ! 
 
 Why shouldst thou wake ? thy foe is in the heavens. 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM, 139 
 
 Yea, thj^ jiudicial slumber weighs thee down, 
 
 And g-ives thee, oh ! lost city, to the Gentile, 
 
 Defenceless, unresisting'. 
 
 It rolls down, 
 
 As though the Everlasting raged not now 
 
 Against our guilty Zion, but did mingle 
 
 The universal world in our destruction ; 
 
 And all mankind were destined for a sacrifice 
 
 On Israel's funeral pile. Oh Crucified ! 
 
 Here, here, where thou didst suffer, I beseech thee 
 
 Even by thy Cross ! 
 
 Hark ! now in impious rivalry 
 Man thunders. In the centre of our streets 
 The Gentile trumpet, the triumphant shouts 
 Of onset ; and I — I, a trembling girl, 
 Alone, awake, abroad. 
 
 Oh, now ye wake. 
 Now ye pour forth, and hideous Massacre, 
 Loathing his bloodless conquest, joys to see you 
 Thus naked and unarm'd — But where's my father ? 
 Upon his couch in dreams of future glory. 
 Oh ! where's my sister ? in her bridal bed. 
 
140 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 Many Jews. 
 
 FIRST JEW. 
 
 To the Temple ! To the Temple ! Israel ! Israel I 
 Your walls are on the earth, your houses burn 
 Like fires amid the autumnal olive grounds. 
 The Gentile's in the courts of the Lord's house. 
 To the Temple ! sare or perish with the Temple ! 
 
 SECOND JEW. 
 
 To the Temple ! haste, oh all ye circumcised ! 
 Stay not for wife or child, for gold or treasure ! 
 Pause not for light ! the heavens are all on fire, 
 The Universal City burns ! 
 
 THIRD JEW. 
 
 Arms! Arms! 
 Our women fall like doves into the nets 
 Of the fowler, and they dash upon the stones 
 Our innocent babes. Arms ! Arms ! before we die 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 141 
 
 Let's reap a bloody harvest of revenge. 
 To the Temple ! 
 
 FOURTH JEW. 
 
 Simon ! lo, the valiant Simon, 
 The above, Simon, 
 
 He comes ! He comes ! the black night blackens with 
 
 him. 
 And the winds groan beneath his chariot wheels — 
 He comes from heaven, the Avenger of Jerusalem ! 
 Ay, strike, proud JRoman ! fall thou useless wall ! 
 And vail your heads, ye towers, that have discharged 
 Your brief, your fruitless duty of resistance. 
 I've heard thee long, fierce Gentile ! th' earthquake 
 
 shocks 
 Of thy huge engines smote upon my soul, 
 And my soul scorn'd them. Oh! and hear'st not 
 
 thou 
 
142 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 One mightier than thyself, that shakes the heavens ? 
 Oh pardon, that I thought that He, whose coming 
 Is promised and reveal'd, would calmly wait 
 The tardy throes of human birth. Messiah, 
 I know thee now, I know yon lightning fire 
 Thy robe of glory, and thy steps in heaven 
 Incessant thundering. 
 
 I had brought mine arms, 
 Mine earthly arms, my breastplate and my sword, 
 To cover and defend me— Oh ! but thou 
 Art jealous, nor endur'st that human arm 
 Intrude on thy deliverance. I forswear them, 
 I cast them from me. Helmless, with nor shield 
 Nor sword, I stand, and in my nakedness 
 Wait thee, victorious Roman—- — 
 
 JEWS. 
 
 To the Temple ! 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Ay, well thou say'st, " to the Temple"— there 
 HwiU be 
 
FALL. OF JERUSALEM. 143 
 
 Most risible. In his own house the Lord 
 Will shine most glorious. Shall we not behold 
 The Fathers bursting" from their yielding graves, 
 Patriarchs and Priests, and Kings and Prophets, 
 
 met 
 A host of spectral watchmen, on the towers 
 Of Zion to behold the full accomplishing 
 Of every Type and deep Prophetic word ? 
 
 Ay, to the Temple ! thither will I too, 
 There bask in all the fulness of the day 
 That breaks at length o'er the long night of Judah, 
 
 Chorus of Jewsjlying toward the Temple. 
 
 Fly! fly! fly! 
 Clouds, not of incense, from the Temple rise, 
 And there are aitar-fi^-es, but not of sacrifice. 
 
 And there are victims, yet nor bulls nor goaU; 
 And Priests are there, but not of Aaron's kin ; 
 
144 FALL OF JERUSALEM^ 
 
 And he that doth the murtherous rite begin, 
 To stranger Gods his hecatomb devotes ; 
 His hecatomb of Israel's chosen race 
 AH foully slaughter'd in their Holy Place. 
 
 Break into joy, ye barren, that ne'er bore !(20) 
 
 Rejoice, ye breasts, where ne'er sweet infant 
 hung ! 
 
 From you, from you no smiling babes are wrung. 
 Ye die, but not amid your children's gore. 
 But howl and weep, oh ye that are with child, 
 
 Ye on whose bosoms unwean'd babes are laid ; 
 The sword that's with the mother's blood defiled, 
 
 Still with the infant gluts the insatiate blade. 
 
 Fly ! fly ! fly ! 
 Fly not, I say, for Death is every where, 
 
 To keen-eyed Lust all places are the same : 
 There's not a secret chamber in whose lair 
 Our wives can shroud them from th' abhorred shame. 
 Where the sword fails, the fire will find us there, 
 
 All, all is death— the Gentile or the flame. 
 
PALL OP JERUSALEM, 145 
 
 On to the Temple ! Brethren, Israel on ! 
 
 Though every slippery street with carnage swims, 
 Ho ! spite of famish'd hearts and wounded limbs, 
 
 Still, still, while yet there stands one holy stone, 
 Fight for your God, his sacred house to save, 
 Or have its blazing ruins for your grave • 
 
 13 
 
146 FALL or JERUSALEM. 
 
 The, Streets of Jerusalem, 
 
 Thou hard firm earth, thou wilt not break before me, 
 
 And hide me in thy dark and secret bosom ! 
 
 Ye burning towers, ye fall upon your children 
 
 With a compassionate ruin — not on me— 
 
 Ye spare me only, I alone am mark'd 
 
 And seal'd for life : death cruelly seems to shun me. 
 
 Me, who am readiest and most wish to die. 
 
 Oh ! I have sat me by the ghastly slain 
 
 In envy of theij state^ and wept a prayer 
 
 That I were cold like them, and safe from th' hapda 
 
 Of the remorseless conqueror. I have fled, 
 
 And fled, and ffed, and still I fly the nearer 
 
 To the howling ravagers — the}' are every where. 
 
 IVe closed mine eyes, and rush'd I know not whither, 
 
 And still are &words and men and furious faces 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 147 
 
 Before me, and behind me, and around me. 
 But ah ! the shrieks that come from out the dwel^- 
 lings 
 
 Of my youth's loved companions— every where 
 
 I hear some dear and most familiar voice 
 
 la its despairing frantic agonies. 
 
 Ah me ! that I were struck with leprosy, 
 
 That sinful men might loathe me, and pass on. 
 And I might now have been by that sweet fouH- 
 taia 
 
 Where the winds whisper through the moonlight 
 leaves, 
 
 I might have been with Javan there — Off, off— 
 
 These are not thoughts for one about to die--* 
 
 Oh, Lord and Saviour Christ ! 
 
 An old Mail) Miriam, 
 
 Who spake of Christ ? 
 What haUi that name to do with saving here ? 
 
148 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 He's here, he's here, the Lord of desolation, 
 Begirt with vengeance : in the fire above, 
 And fire below ! in all the blazing city 
 Behold him manifest ! 
 
 Oh ! aged mail. 
 And miserable, on the verge of the grave 
 Thus lingering to behold thy country's ruin> 
 What know'st thou of the Christ ^ 
 
 1, 1 beheld him, 
 The Man of Nazareth whom thou mean'st— I saw 
 
 him 
 When he went labouring up the accursed hill. 
 Heavily on his scourged and bleeding shoulders 
 Press'd the rough cross, and from his crowned brow 
 (Crown'd with no kingly diadem) the pale blood 
 Was shaken off, as with a patient pity 
 He look'd on us, the infuriate multitude. 
 
FALL or JEETJSALEM. X49 
 
 Didst thou uot fall and worship ? 
 
 I had cail'd 
 The curse upon ray head, ray voice had cried 
 Unto the Roman, *' On us be his blood, 
 *' And on our children '" — and on us it hath been- 
 My children and my children's children, all, 
 The Gentile sword hath reap'd them one by one, 
 And I, the last dry wither'd shock, await 
 The gfleaniag of the slaughterer. 
 
 Couldst thou see 
 The Cross, the Agony, and still hard of heart ? 
 
 Fond child,! tell thee, ere the Cross was raised 
 He look'd around him, even in that last anguish, 
 
150 FALL OF JERUSALEM^ 
 
 With such a majesty of calm compassion, 
 Such solemn adjuration to our souls — 
 But yet 'twas not reproachful, only sad — 
 As though our guilt had been the bitterest pang 
 Of suffering. And there dwelt about him still. 
 About his drooping head and fainting limb, 
 A sense of power ; as though he chose to die, 
 Yet might have shaken off the load of death 
 Without an effort. Awful breathlessness 
 Spread round, too deep and too intense for tears „ 
 
 MIRIAM* 
 
 Thou didst believe ?- 
 
 Away I Men glar'd upon me 
 As though they did detect my guilty pity ; 
 Their voices roar'd around me like a tempest. 
 And every voice was howling, " Crucify him I" — 
 I dared not be alone the apostate child 
 Of Abraham—— 
 
 ^ 
 
|:ALL of JERUSALEM. 151 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 Ah ! thou didst not join the cry ? 
 
 OLD MAN. 
 
 Woman, I did, and with a voice so audible 
 Men turn'd to praise my zeal. And when the dark- 
 ness, 
 The noonday darkness, fell upon the earth. 
 And the earth's self shook underneath my feet, 
 I stood before the Cross, and in my pride 
 Hejoiced that I had shaken from my soul 
 The soft compunction. . 
 
 Ha ! — but now, oh ! now, 
 Thou own'st him for the eternal Son of God, 
 The mock'd, and scourg'd, and crown'd, and cru- 
 cified. 
 Thou dost belieFe the blazing evidence 
 Of yon fierce flames ! thou bow'st thyself before 
 The solemn preacher, Desolatioi^ 
 
152 FALL OP JERUSALEM, 
 
 That now on Zion's guilty ruins seated 
 Bearg horrible witness. 
 
 Maiden, I believe them, 
 I dare not disbelieve ; it is my curse, 
 lyiy agony, that cleayes to me in deatJi. 
 
 Oh ! not a curse, it is a gracious blessing- 
 Believe, and thou shalt live ! 
 
 OtD MAJf. 
 
 Back, insolent ! 
 Whatl would'st thou school these gray hairs, and 
 
 become 
 Mine age's teacher? 
 
 Hath not God ordain'd 
 Wisdom from babes and sucklings ? 
 
 I 
 
FALL OF JEBUSALEU. 1^3 
 
 Back, I say ; 
 I have lived a faithful child of Abraham, 
 Andso will die. 
 
 For ever ! He is gone. 
 
 Yet he looks round, and shakes his hoary head 
 In dreadful execration 'gainst himself 
 
 And me 1 dare not follow him. 
 
 What's here! 
 It is mine home, the dwelling of my youth, 
 O'er which the flames climb up with such fierce 
 
 haste. 
 Lo, lo ! they burst from that house-top, where oft 
 My sister and myself have sate and sang 
 Our pleasant airs of gladness ! Ah, Salone ! 
 Where art thou now? These, these are not the 
 
 lights 
 That should be shining on a marriage-bed. 
 Oh ! that I had been call'd to dress thy bier, 
 
154 TALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 To pour sweet ointments on thy shrouded corpse| 
 Rather than thus to weave thee bridal chaplets 
 To be so madly worn, so early withered ! 
 Where art thou ? I dare only wish thee dead. 
 Even as I wish myself. 
 
 'Tis she, herself! 
 Thank God, she hath not perish'd in the flames ! 
 ^Tis she — she's liere— she's here — the unfaded crown 
 Hanging from her loose tresses, and her raiment 
 
 Only the bridal veil wrapt round her Sister ! 
 
 Oh • by my mother's blessings on us both, 
 Stay, stay and speak to me — Salone ! 
 
 Thee? 
 'Tis all thy bitter envy, that hath made 
 The exquisite music cease, and hath put out 
 The gentle lamps, and with a jealous voice 
 Hath call'd him from me. 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 Seest thou not, Salone, 
 
I FALL OP JERUSALEM. 155 
 
 The city's all on fire, the foe's around us ? 
 
 SALONE. 
 
 The fire ! the foe! what's fire or foe to me? 
 What's ought but Amariah? He is mine, 
 The eagle-eyed, the noble and the brave, 
 The Man of Men, the glory of our Zion, 
 And ye have rent hira from me. 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 Dearest, who? 
 
 SALONE. 
 
 I tell thee, he was mine, oh f mine so fondly, 
 And I was his — I had begun to dare 
 The telling how I loved him — and the night 
 It was so rapturously still around us — 
 When, even as though he heard a voice, and yet 
 There was no sound I heard, he sprung from me 
 Unto the chamber-door, and he look'd out 
 Intothecity— — 
 
156 FALL OP JERUSALEM, 
 
 Wein—Nay, let not fall 
 
 Thy insufficient raiment Merciful Heaven, 
 
 Thy bosom bleeds! What rash and barbarous hand 
 Hath 
 
 He came back and kiss'd me, and he said — 
 I know not what he said — but there was something 
 Of Gentile ravisher, and his beauteous bride — 
 Me, me he meant, he call'd me beauteous bride— 
 And he stood o'er me with a sword so bright 
 My dazzled eyes did close. And presently, 
 Metbought, he smote me with the sword, but then 
 He fell upon my neck, and wept upon me. 
 And I felt nothing but his burning tears. 
 
 MIRIAM, 
 
 She faints ! Look up, sweet sister ! I have stanch'd 
 The blood awhile — but her dim wandering eyes 
 Are fixing— she awakes— she speaks agauit 
 
PALL or JERUSALEM. 157 
 
 Ah ! brides, they say, should be retired, and dwell 
 
 Within in modest secrecy ; yet here 
 
 Am I, a this night's bride, in the open street. 
 
 My naked feet on the cold stones, the wind 
 
 Blowing my raiment off—it's very cold— 
 
 Oh, Amariah ! let me lay my head 
 
 Upon thy bosom, and so fall asleep. 
 
 There is no Amariah here — 'tis I. 
 Thy Miriam. 
 
 SALONE. 
 
 The Gbristian Miriam 1 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 Oh \ that thou too wert Christian ! I could give thee 
 A cold and scanty baptism of my tears. 
 Oh ! shrink not from me, lift not up thy head. 
 Thy dying head, from thy loved sister's lap. 
 14 
 
158 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 Off! set me free ! (he song is almost done, 
 
 The bridegroom's at the door, and I must meet him. 
 
 Though ray knees shake and tremble. If he come, 
 
 And find me sad and cold, as I am no\F, 
 
 He will not love me as he did. 
 
 Too true, 
 Thou growest cold indeed. 
 
 Night closes round, 
 Slumber is on my soul. If Amariah 
 Return with morning, glorious and adorn'J 
 In spoil, as he is wont, thou'lt wake me, sister? 
 
 Ah ! no, no, no ! thi^ is no waking sleep, 
 
 It bursts upon me — Yes, and Simon's daughter. 
 The bride of Amariah, may not fear, 
 Nor shrink from dying. My half-failing spirit 
 Comes back, my soft love-melted heart is strong; 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 159 
 
 I koow^ it all, in mercy and in love 
 
 Thou'st wounded me to death — and I will bless thee, 
 
 True loFer ! noble husband ! my last breatl* 
 
 Is thine in blessing — Amariah ' — Lo«^e ! 
 
 And yet thou shouldst have staid to close mine 
 eyes, 
 Oh Amariah J— —and an hour ag-o 
 I was a happy bride upon thy bosom, 
 
 And now am Oh God, God I if he have err'd, 
 
 And should come back again, and find me dead J 
 
 Oh, God of Mercies ! she is gone an infidel, 
 
 An infidel unrepentant, to thy presence, 
 
 The partner of my cradle and ray bed, 
 
 My own, ray only sister '. oh ! but thou, 
 
 Lord, knowest that thou hast not drawn her to thee. 
 
 By making the fond passions of the heart, 
 
 Like mine, thy ministers of soft persuasion. 
 
 She hath not loved a Christian, hath not heard 
 
 From lips, whose very lightest breath is dear, 
 
 Thy words of comfort. 
 
160 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 I will cover her. 
 Thy bridal veil is now thy shroud, my sister, 
 And long thou wilt not be without a grave. 
 Jerusalem will bury all her children 
 Ere many hours are past. 
 
 There's some one comes 
 A Gentile soldier— —'tis the same who oft 
 Hath cross'd me, and I've fled and scap'd him. Now, 
 How can I fly, and whither ? Will the dead 
 Protect me ? Ha ! whichever way I turn, 
 Are others fiercer and more terrible. 
 I'll speak to him— there's something in his mien 
 Less hideoiis than the rest. 
 
 Miriam^ the Soldier, 
 
 Oh ! noble warrior, 
 I see not that thy sword is wet with blood : 
 And thou didst turn aside lest thou shouldst trea4 
 Upon a dying man ; and e'en but now, 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 161 
 
 When a bold ruffian almost seiz'd on me, 
 Thou didst stand forth and scare him from his prey. 
 Hast thou no voice ? perhaps thou art deaf too. 
 And I am pleading unto closed ears — 
 —'K&ep from me ! stand aloof ! I am infected. 
 Oh ! if the devil, that haunts the souls of men, 
 They say, with lawless and forbidden thoughts. 
 If he possess thee, here I lift my voice — 
 By Jesus Christ of Nazareth, I adjure 
 The evil spirit to depart from thee. 
 
 Alas ! I feel thy grasp upon mine arm. 
 And I must follow thee. Oh! thou hast surely 
 In thine own land, in thine own native home, 
 A wife, a child, a sister ; think what 'twere 
 To have a stranger's violent arms around her. 
 
 Ha ! every where are more — and this man's hand 
 Did surely tremble ; at the holy name 
 He seem'd to bow his head. I'll follow thee, 
 Let me but kiss the body of my sister. 
 My dead lost sister — 
 
 Bless thee ! and thou'lt spare me — ■ 
 At least thou art less savage than the rest. 
 14* 
 
1©^ FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 And He that had a virgin mother, He 
 Will surely listen to a virgin's prayer. 
 There's hope and strength within my soul ; lead on, 
 
 ril follow thee Salone, oh that thou 
 
 Hadst room in thy cold marriage bed for me ! 
 
 The front of the Teraple. 
 
 They fight around the altar, and the deiad 
 
 Heap'd the chok'd pavement. Israel tramples Israel, 
 
 And Gentile Gentile, rushing where the Temple, 
 
 Like to a pit of frantic gladiators, 
 
 Is howling with the strife of men, that fight not 
 
 For conquest, but the desperate joy of slaying. 
 
 Priests, Levites, women, pass and hurry on, 
 
 At least to die within the sanctuary. 
 
 I only wait without — I take my stand 
 
 Here in the veGtibule— and though the thunders 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 163 
 
 High and aloof o'er the wide arch of heaven 
 
 Hold their calm march, nor deviate to their ven- 
 geance 
 
 On earth, in holy patience, Lord, I wait, 
 
 Defying thy long lingering to subdue 
 
 The faith of Simon. 
 
 *Twas but now I pass'd 
 
 'I'he corpse of Amariah, that display'd 
 
 In the wild firelight all its wounds, and lay 
 Embalm'd in honour. John of Galilee 
 Is prisoner ; I beheld him fiercely gnashing 
 His ponderous chains. Of me they take no heed. 
 For I disdain to tempt them to my death. 
 And am not arra'd to slay. 
 
 The light within 
 Grows redder, broader. 'Tis a fire that burns 
 To save or to destroy. On Sinai's top. 
 Oh Lord ! thou didst appear in flames, the mountain 
 Burnt round about thee. Art thou here at length, 
 And must I close mine eyes, lest they be blinded 
 By the full conflagration of thy preseoce ? 
 
164 FALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 Titus, Placidus, Terentius^ Soldiers, Simon* 
 
 Save, save the Temple ! Placidus, Terentius, 
 Haste, bid the legions cease to slay ; and quench 
 Yon ruining fire. 
 
 Who's this, that stands unmoved 
 Mid slaughter, flame, and wreck, nor deigns to bo\r 
 Before the Conqueror of Jerusalem ? 
 What art thou ? 
 
 Titus, dost thou think that Rome 
 Shall quench the fire that burns within yon Temple i 
 Ay, when your countless and victorious cohorts, 
 Ay, when your Caesar's throne, your Capitol 
 Have fallen before it. 
 
 TITUS. 
 
 Madman, speak I what art thou ? 
 
FALL OP J£RUSAL£M. 165 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 The uncircumcis'd have known me heretofore* 
 And thou mayst know hereafter. 
 
 PLACIDUS. 
 
 It is he — 
 The bloody Captain of the Rebels, Simon, 
 The Chief Assassin. Seize him, round his limbs 
 Bind straight your heaviest chains. An unhop'd 
 
 pageant 
 For Csssar's high ovation. We'll not slay him, 
 Till we have made a show to the wives of Rome 
 Of the great Hebrew Chieftain. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Knit them close, 
 See that ye rivet well their galling links. 
 
 (Holding up the chains.) 
 And yeVe no finer flax to gyve me with ? 
 
 TERENTIUS. 
 
 Burst these, and we will forge thee stronger then- 
 
 aniois. 
 Fool, His not yet the hour. 
 
166 FALL OP JERUSALEM. 
 
 TITUS. 
 
 Hark ! hark ! the shrieks 
 Of those that perish in the flames. Too late 
 I came to spare, it wraps the fabric round. 
 Fate, fate, I feel thou'rt mightier than Ccesa'r, 
 He cannot save what thou hast doom*d ! Back, Ro- 
 mans, 
 Withdraw your angry cohorts, and give place 
 To the inevitable ruin. Destiny, 
 Ills thine own, and Caesar yields it to thee. 
 Lead off the prisoner, 
 
 SIMON- 
 
 Can it be ? the fire 
 
 Destroys, the thunders cease. I'll not believe, 
 
 And yet how dare I doubt ? 
 
 A moment, Romans. 
 Is't then thy will, Almighty Lord of Israel, 
 That this thy Temple be a heap of ashes ? 
 Is't then thy will, that I, thy chosen Captain, 
 yut on the raiment of captivity ? 
 :By Abraham, our father ! by the Twelve, 
 
FALL O^ JERUSALEM. 167 
 
 The Patriarch Sons of Jacob ! by the Law, 
 In thunder spoken ! by the untouch'd Ark ! 
 By David, and the Anointed Race of Kings! 
 By great Elias, and the gifted Prophets ! 
 I here demand a ^gn ! 
 
 'Tis there— I see it. 
 The fire that rends the Veil ! 
 
 We are then of thefe 
 Abandon'd, not abandon'd of ourselves. 
 Heap woes npon us, scatter us abroad, 
 Earth^s scorn and hissing ; to the race of men 
 A loathsome provecb ; spurned by every foot, 
 And curs'd by every tongue ; our heritage 
 And birthright bondage ; and our very brows 
 Bearing, like Cain's, the outcast ^rk of hate : 
 Israel will still be Israel, still will boast 
 Her fallen Temple, her departed glory ; 
 And, wrapt in conscious righteousness, defy 
 Earth's utmost hate, and answer scorn with scorn. 
 
1^8 PALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 The Fountain of Siloe. 
 Miriam, the Soldier. 
 
 Here, here — not here — oh ! any where but here — 
 Not toward the fountain, not by this lone path. 
 If thou wilt bear me hence, Pll kiss thy feet, 
 I'll call down blessings, a lost virgin's blessings 
 Upon thy head. Thou hast hurried me along, 
 Through darkling street, and over stnoking ruin. 
 And yet there seem*d a soft solicitude, 
 And an ofiScious kindness in thy violence — 
 But IVe not heard thy voice. 
 
 Oh, strangely cruel ! 
 And wilt thou make me sit even on this stone. 
 Where I have sate so oft, when the calm moonlight 
 Lay in its slumber on the slumbering fountain ? 
 Ah ! where art thou, thou that wert ever with me, 
 Oh Javan! Javan! 
 
^AUL OF JERUSALEM. 169 
 
 THE SOLDIER. 
 
 When was Javan call'd 
 By Miriam, that Javan answer'd not? 
 Forgive roe all thy tears, thy agonies. 
 I dar'd not speak to thee, lest the strong joy 
 Should overpower thee, and thy feeble limbs 
 Refuse to bear thee in thy flight. 
 
 What's here ? 
 Am I in heaven, and thou forehasted thither 
 To welcome me ? Ah, no ! thy warlike garb, 
 And the wild light that reddens all the air, 
 
 Those shrieks and yet this could not be on earth, 
 
 T^e sad, the desolate, the sinful earth. 
 And thou couldst venture amid fire and death, 
 Amid thy country's ruins, to protect me, 
 Dear Javan ? 
 
 Tis now the first time, Miriam, 
 15 
 
170 FALL DF JERUSALEM. 
 
 That I have held my life a worthless sacrifice 
 For thine. Oh ! all these later days of siege 
 I've slept in peril, and IVe woke in peril. 
 For every meeting I've defied the cross. 
 On which the Koman, in his merciless scorn, 
 Bound all the sons of Salem. Sweet, I boast not ; 
 Biit to thank rightly our Deliverer, 
 We mtlst know all the extent of his deliverance.^ 
 
 And I can only weep ! 
 
 Ay, thou shouldst wtepf 
 Lost Zion's daughter. 
 
 Ah ! I thought not then 
 Of my dead sister, and my captive father- 
 Said they not " captive" as we pass'd— I thought 
 
 not 
 Of Zion's ruin and the Temple's wastc^ 
 
FALL or JERUSALEM. 171 
 
 Javan, I fear that mine are tears of joy ; 
 'Tis sinful at such times — but thou art here. 
 And I am on thy bosom, and I cannot 
 Be, as I ought, entirej^y miserable^ 
 
 My own beloved ! I dare call thee mine, 
 
 For Heaven hath given thee to me — chosen out. 
 
 As we two are, for solitary blessing, 
 
 While the universal curse is pour'd around us 
 
 On every head, 'twere cold and barren gratitude 
 
 To stifle in our hearts the holy gladness. 
 
 But, oh Jerusalem ! thy rescued children 
 May not, retir'd within their secret joy, 
 Shut out the mournful sight of thy calamities. 
 
 Oh, beauty of earth's cities ! throned queen 
 Of thy milk-flowing valleys '• crown'd with glory ! 
 The envy of the nations ! now no more 
 A cily — —One by one thy palaces 
 Sink into ashes, and the uniform smoke 
 O'er half thy circuit hath brought back the night 
 Which the insulting flames had made give place 
 
172 TALL OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 Xo their untimely terrible day. The flames 
 That in the Temple, their last proudest conquest^ 
 Now gather all their might, and furiously, 
 Like revellers, hold there exulting triumph. 
 Round every pillar, over all the roof, 
 On the wide gorgeous front, the holy depth 
 Of the far sanctuary, every portico, 
 And every court, at once, concentrated, 
 As though to glorify and not destroy, 
 
 They burn, they blaze 
 
 Look, Miriam, how it stands f 
 Look ! 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 There are men around us ! 
 
 JAV/.K. 
 
 They are friends. 
 Bound here to meet me, and behold the last 
 Of our devoted city. Look, oh Christians! 
 Still the Lord's house survives man's fallen dwel- 
 
FALL OF JERUSALEM. 173 
 
 And wears its ruin with a majesty 
 Peculiar and divine. Still, still it stands,*^ 
 All one wide fire, and 3'^et no stone hath fallen. 
 
 Hark — hark ! 
 The feeble cry of an expiring nation. 
 
 Hark — hark ! 
 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 woiship here 
 The mysteries of God's wrath. 
 
 Even so shall perish, 
 In its own ashes, a more glorious Temple, 
 Yea, God's own architecture, this vast world, 
 This fated universe — the same destroyer, 
 The same destruction— Earth, Earth, Earth, behold ! 
 15* 
 
174- iAL.L OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 And in that judgment look upon thine own/? 
 
 'Even thus amid thy pride and luxurj, 
 
 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 sh&/ll 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. 
 t The hundred-gated Cities then, 
 
 The Towers and Temples, nam'd of men 
 
FALL OP JERUSALEM. 175 
 
 Eternal, and the Thrones of Kmgs ; 
 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 un- 
 furl'd, 
 The skies are shriveZl'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. 
 
176 PALL OP JIRUSALEM. 
 
 Lord of all power, when thou art there alone 
 On thy eternal fiery-wheeled throne, 
 That in its hig-h meridian noon 
 Needs not the perish'd sun nor 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 
 womh. 
 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, 
 0*er us the rainbow of thy mercy shines, 
 We hail, we bless the covenant of its beam, 
 Ahnighty to avenge, Almightiest to redeem! 
 
NOTES. 
 
 Note 1, page 13, line 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, page 16, line 11. 
 A mount of snow fretted with golden pinnacles ! 
 Tar? yt fjt,m siffa(pi»vovfczvOis 'iivoi;, rroppathv ofcoioi o^u X''*'i 
 
 (Joseph. lib. v. c. 5.) See the whole description. 
 
 Note 3, page 18, line 1. 
 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^ page 20, lines 3, 4. 
 
 Lei this night 
 Our tvide encircling walls complete their circuit. 
 " The days shall come upon thee when thine enemi^'s 
 shall cast a trench about thee, and compass thee round, 
 and keep thee in on every side." Luke xis. 43. 
 
 For the remarkable and perfect completion of this 
 prophecy, see the description of the wall built by Titus. 
 (Josephus, lib. v. ch. 12.) 
 
178 NPTEs; 
 
 Note 5, page 20, lines 10, 11. 
 
 / shou Id give to the flame 
 Whatever opposed the sovereign sway of Ccemr. 
 Terentius, or Turnus Rufus, is marked with singular 
 detestation in the Jewish traditions. 
 
 Note 6, page 21, line 1. 
 Sweet fountain, once again I visit thee ! 
 The fountain of Siloe was just without the walls. The 
 upper city, occupied by Simon, (Joseph, v, 6.) ended 
 nearly on a line with the fountain. Though, indeed, Si- 
 mon had possession of parts also of the lower city. (Jor 
 seph. V. 1.) 
 
 Note 7, page 24, line 16. 
 Let Gii.chala, let fallen Jotapata. 
 Gischala and Jotapata, towns before taken by the Ro- 
 mans. 
 
 Note 8, page 35, line 3. 
 
 Our bridal songs, <^c. 
 
 It must be recollected, that the dnmarried stale 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, page 61, line 4. 
 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, page 65, line 16. 
 Ye want net testimonies to your mildness. 
 Titus crucified round the city those who fled from the 
 famine and the cruelty of the leaders within. (Joseph 
 
NOTES. 170 
 
 V. eh. 13 ) Sometimes, according to Josef hus, (lib. v. c. 
 11.) 500 in a day sutfered. 
 
 Note 11, page 58, line 11. 
 Even on the hills where gleam your myriad spears. 
 The camp of Titus comprehended a space called the 
 " Assyrian's Camp." 
 
 Note 12, page 63, line 2. 
 A javelin to his pale and toward heart ! 
 .Tosephus gives more liian one speech which he ad- 
 dressed to his countrymen. They only mocked, and 
 once wounded him. 
 
 Note 13, page 71, line 7. 
 Behold, oh Lord ! the Heathen tread, i^. 
 See Psalm Ixxx. 7, &c. 
 
 Note 14, page 83, lines 7, 8. 
 Even in the ga.rb and with the speech of ivorship, 
 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, page 83, line 21. 
 Tliere hath he held the palace of his lusts. 
 
 S"i To7s fix^io-fiaffiv l^ecjeiviis \ytvovro toXifiifTcci. Joseph. 
 lib. iv. c. 9. There is a lOng passage to the same effect. 
 
 Note 16, page 96, line 8. 
 And where is now the. wine for ihe bridegroom's rosy cup. 
 In the prophecy of our Saviour concerni)i>^ the de- 
 straction of Jerusalem and that of the world, it is said,^ 
 
180 NOTES. 
 
 that " as in the days of Noe, they shall marry and be 
 given in marriage." Matth. xxiv. 
 
 Note 17, page 105, line 8. 
 That when the signs are manifest. 
 The prodigies are related by Josephus in a magnificent 
 page of historic description. 
 
 Note 18, page 120, line 5. 
 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, page 132, line 2. 
 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 strait- 
 ness, wherewith thine enemy shall distress thee in thy 
 gates." (Deuter. xxviii. 56 and 57.) See also Lamenta- 
 tions, ii. 20. The account of the unnatural mother is de- 
 tailed in Josephus. 
 
 Note 20, page 144, line 5. 
 Break into joy, ye barren that ne'er bore ! 
 " And woe unto them that are with child, and to them 
 thgt give suck in those days." (Matth, xxiv. 19.) 
 
 THE END.