The passions of old Time, fell lumbering down.

All cities fell, and

every

work of man,

And gave their portion forth of human dust,

Touched by the mortal finger of decay.

Tree, herb, and flower, and every fowl of heaven, And fish, and animal, the wild and tame, Forthwith dissolving crumbled into dust.

Alas, ye sons of strength! ye ancient oaks ! Ye holy pines! ye elms! and cedars tall! Like towers of God, far seen on Carmel mount, Or Lebanon, that waved your boughs on high, And laughed at all the winds-your hour was

come.

Ye laurels, ever green! and bays, that wont
To wreath the patriot and the poet's brow;
Ye myrtle bowers! and groves of sacred shade!
Where Music ever sung, and Zephyr fanned

His airy wing, wet with the dews of life,

And Spring for ever smiled, the fragrant haunt

Of Love, and Health, and ever dancing Mirth— Alas! how suddenly your verdure died,

And ceased your minstrelsy, to sing no more. Ye flowers of beauty! penciled by the hand Of God who annually renewed your birth, the virgin robes of nature chaste,

To gem

Ye smiling featured daughters of the Sun!

Fairer than queenly bride, by Jordan's stream
Leading your gentle lives, retired, unseen;

Or on the sainted cliffs of Zion hill,
Wandering, and holding with the heavenly dews,
In holy revelry, your nightly loves,

Watched by the stars, and offering every morn
Your incense grateful both to God and man,
Ye lovely gentle things! alas, no spring
Shall ever wake you now! ye withered all,
All in a moment drooped, and on your roots
The grasp of everlasting winter seized.
Children of song! ye birds that dwelt in air,
And stole your notes from angels lyres, and first

In levee of the morn, with eulogy

Ascending, hailed the advent of the dawn;
Or, roosted on the pensive evening bough,

In melancholy numbers sung the day

To rest, your little wings, failing dissolved
In middle air, and on your harmony

Perpetual silence fell. Nor did his wing,
That sailed in track of gods sublime, and fanned
The sun, avail the eagle then; quick smitten,
His plumage withered in meridian height,
And in the valley sunk, the lordly bird,

A clod of clay. Before the ploughman, fell
His steers, and in mid-way the furrow left:

The shepherd saw his flocks around him, turn
To dust beneath his rider fell the steed

To ruins and the lion in his den

Grew cold and stiff, or in the furious chase, With timid fawn, that scarcely missed his paws. On earth no living thing was seen but men, New changed, or rising from the opening tomb.

Athens, and Rome, and Babylon, and Tyre, And she that sat on Thames, queen of the seas! Cities once famed on earth, convulsed through all Their mighty ruins, threw their millions forth. Palmyra's dead, where Desolation sat,

From age to age, well pleased in solitude,
And silence, save when traveller's foot, or owl
Of night, or fragment mouldering down to dust,
Broke faintly on his desert ear, awoke.
And Salem, holy city, where the prince

Of life, by death, a second life secured

To man, and with him from the grave, redeemed,
A chosen number brought, to retinue

His great ascent on high, and give sure pledge
That death was foiled,-her generations now
Gave up, of kings, and priests, and Pharisees;
Nor even the Sadducee, who fondly said
No morn of Resurrection ere should come,
Could sit the summons; to his ear did reach

The trumpet's voice; and ill prepared for what

He oft had proved should never be, he rose
Reluctantly, and on his face began

To burn eternal shame. The cities too,

Of old ensepulchred beneath the flood,

Or deeply slumbering under mountains huge, That earthquake-servant of the wrath of GodHad on their wicked population thrown,

And marts of busy trade, long ploughed and

sown,

By history unrecorded, or the song'

Of bard, yet not forgotten their wickedness

In heaven-poured forth their ancient multitudes,

That vainly wished their sleep had never broke.
From battle-fields, where men by millions met
To murder each his fellow, and make sport
To kings and heroes-things long since forgot-
Innumerous armies rose, unbannered all,
Unpanoplied, unpraised; nor found a prince,
Or general then, to answer for their crimes.