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THE HARP THE MONARCH MINSTREL SWEPT.
THE harp the monarch minstrel swept,
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,
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: 'tis not for self
That we so tremble on the brink; And striving to o'erleap the gulf, Yet cling to Being's severing link. Oh! in that future let us think
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
Its airy step and glorious eye
May glance in tameless transport by:
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,
Our temple hath not left a stone,
OH! WEEP FOR THOSE.
OH! weep for those that wept by Babel's stream,
And where shall Israel lave her bleeding feet?
Tribes of the wandering foot and weary breast,
The wild-dove hath her nest, the fox his cave,