HEBREW MELODIES. SHE WALKS IN BEAUTY.' SHE walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; One shade the more, one ray the less, grace Had half impair'd the nameless And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent! THE HARP THE MONARCH MINSTREL SWEPT. THE harp the monarch minstrel swept, Which Music hallow'd while she wept It soften❜d men of iron mould, It gave them virtues not their own; No ear so dull, no soul so cold, That felt not, fired not to the tone, Till David's lyre grew mightier than his throne It told the triumphs of our king, It wafted glory to our God; The cedars bow, the mountains nod; Its sound aspired to Heaven, and there abode ! Since then, though heard on earth no more, Devotion and her daughter Love Still bid the bursting spirit soar To sounds that seem as from above, In dreams that day's broad light can not remove. IF THAT HIGH WORLD. If that high world, which lies beyond It must be so: 't is not for self Yet cling to being's severing link. To hold each heart the heart that shares, With them the immortal waters drink, And soul in soul grow deathless theirs! THE WILD GAZELLE. THE wild gazelle on Judah's hills A step as fleet, an eye more bright, The cedars wave on Lebanon, But Judah's statelier maids are gone! More blest each palm that shades those plains Than Israel's scatter'd race; For, taking root, it there remains In solitary grace: It cannot quit its place of birth, It will not live in other earth. But we must wander witheringly, And where our fathers' ashes be, UH! OH! WEEP FOR THOSE. weep for those that wept by Babel's stream, Whose shrines are desolate, whose land a dream: Mourn where their God hath dwelt the godless dwell And where shall Israel lave her bleeding feet? The hearts that leap'd before its heavenly voice? Tribes of the wandering foot and weary breast, cave, The wild-dove hath her nest, the fox his ON JORDAN'S BANKS. ON Jordan's banks the Arab's camels stray, Yet there even there-Oh God! thy thunders sleep There where thy finger scorch'd the tablet stone! Oh! in the lightning let thy glance appear! Sweep from his shiver'd hand the oppressor's spear JEPHTHA'S DAUGHTER. SINCE Our country, our God—Oh, my sire! Since thy triumph was bought by thy vow- And the voice of my mourning is o'er, And of this, oh, my father! be sure And the last thought that soothes me below. Though the virgins of Salem lament, When this blood of thy giving hath gush'd, And forget not I smiled as I died! OH! SNATCH'D AWAY IN BEAUTY'S BLOOM. OH! snatch'd away in beauty's bloom, Their leaves, the earliest of the year; And oft by yon blue gushing stream Shall sorrow lean her drooping head, Fond wretch! as if her step disturb'd the dead! Away! we know that tears are vain, That death nor heeds nor hears distress: Will this unteach us to complain? Or make one inourner weep the less? And thou-who tell'st me to forget, Thy looks are wan, thine eyes are wet. MY SOUL IS DARK, My soul is dark.-Oh! quickly string Its melting murmurs o'er mine ear. If in this heart a hope be dear, That sound shall charm it forth again; If in these eyes there lurk a tear, 'T will flow, and cease to burn my brain. But bid the strain be wild and deep, And ached in sleepless silence long; |