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I SAW THEE WEEP.

I SAW thee weep-the big bright tear
Came o'er that eye of blue;

And then methought it did appear
A violet dropping dew:

I saw thee smile-the sapphire's blaze
Beside thee ceased to shine;

It could not match the living rays
That fill'd that glance of thine.

As clouds from yonder sun receive

A deep and mellow dye,

Which scarce the shade of coming eve
Can banish from the sky,

Those smiles upon the moodiest mind
Their own pure joy impart;
Their sunshine leaves a glow behind
That lightens o'er the heart.

THY DAYS ARE DONE.

THY days are done, thy fame begun;
Thy country's strains record
The triumphs of her chosen Son,
The slaughters of his sword!
The deeds he did, the fields he won,
The freedom he restored!

Though thou art fall'n, while we are free

Thou shalt not taste of death! The generous blood that flow'd from thee Disdain'd to sink beneath: Within our veins its currents be, Thy spirit on our breath!

Thy name, our charging hosts along,

Shall be the battle-word!

Thy fall, the theme of choral song

From virgin voices pour'd! To weep would do thy glory wrong; Thou shalt not be deplored.

SONG OF SAUL BEFORE HIS LAST BATTLE.

WARRIORS and Chiefs! should the shaft or the sword

Pierce me in leading the host of the Lord,
Heed not the corse, though a king's, in your path:
Bury your steel in the bosoms of Gath!

Thou who art bearing my buckler and bow,
Should the soldiers of Saul look away from the foe,
Stretch me that moment in blood at thy feet!
Mine be the doom which they dared not to meet.

Farewell to others, but never we part,
Heir to my royalty, son of my heart!
Bright is the diadem, boundless the sway,
Or kingly the death, which awaits us to-day!

SAUL.

THOU whose spell can raise the dean
Bid the prophet's form appear.
"Samuel, raise thy buried head!

King, behold the phantom seer!"* Earth yawn'd; he stood the centre of a cloud: Light changed its hue, retiring from his shroud. Death stood all glassy in his fixed eye;

His hand was wither'd, and his veins were dry:
His foot, in bony whiteness, glitter'd there,
Shrunken and sinewless, and ghastly bare;
From lips that moved not, and unbreathing franu
Like cavern'd winds, the hollow accents came.
Saul saw, and fell to earth, as falls the oak,
At once, and blasted by the thunder-stroke.

"Why is my sleep disquieted?
Who is he that calls the dead?
Is it thou, O king? Behold,
Bloodless are these limbs, and cold:
Such are mine; and such shall be
Thine to-morrow, when with me;
Ere the coming day is done,
Such shalt thou be, such thy son.
Fare thee well, but for a day;
Then we mix our mouldering clay.
Thou, thy race, lie pale and low,
Pierced by shafts of many a bow;
And the falchion by thy side
To thy heart thy hand shall guide:
Crownless, breathless, headless fall,
Son and sire, the house of Saul!”

"ALL IS VANITY, SAITH THE PREACHER."

FAME, wisdom, love, and power were mine
And health and youth possess'd me,
My goblets blush'd from every vine,
And lovely forms caress'd me;

I sunn'd my heart in beauty's eyes, And felt my soul grow tender : All earth can give, or mortal prize. Was mine of regal splendor.

I strive to number o'er what days Remembrance can discover, Which all of life or earth displays Would lure me to live over.

There rose no day, there roll'd no hour
Of pleasure unembitter'd;
And not a trapping deck'd my power

That gall'd not while it glitter'd.

The serpent of the field, by art

And spells, is won from harming; But that which coils around the heart, Oh! who hath power of charming?

It will not list to wisdom's lore, Nor music's voice can lure it; But there it stings for evermore The soul that must endure it.

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BY THE RIVERS OF BABYLON WE SAT Along my bones the creeping flesh did quake;

DOWN AND WEPT.

WE sat down and wept by the waters
Of Babel, and thought of the day
When our foe, in the hue of his slaughters,
Made Salem's high places his prey;
And ye, oh her desolate daughters!
Were scatter'd all weeping away.

And as my damp hair stiffen'd, thus it spake:

"Is man more just than God? Is man more pure
Than he who deems even Seraphs insecure?
Creatures of clay-vain dwellers in the dust!
The moth survives you, and are ye more just?
Things of a day! you wither ere the night,
Heedless and blind to Wisdom's wasted light!

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