Above or Love, Hope, Hate, or Fear,
It lives all passionless and pure;
An age shall fleet like earthly year;
Its years as moments shall endure.
Away, away, without a wing,

O'er all, through all, its thoughts shall fly;
A nameless and eternal thing,

Forgetting what it was to die.

OH! WEEP FOR THOSE.

OH! weep for those that wept by Babel's stream,
Whose shrines are desolate, whose land a dream;
Weep for the harp of Judah's broken shell;

Mourn - where their God hath dwelt the Godless dwell!

And where shall Israel lave her bleeding feet?
And when shall Zion's songs again seem sweet?
And Judah's melody once more rejoice

The hearts that leaped before its heavenly voice?

Tribes of the wandering foot and weary breast,
How shall ye flee away and be at rest!
The wild-dove hath her nest, the fox his cave,
Mankind their country - Israel but the grave!

19

SAUL.

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

King, behold the phantom seer! Earth yawned; he stood the centre of a cloud: Light changed its hue, retiring from its shroud. Death stood all glassy in his fixed eye; His hand was withered, and his veins were dry; His foot, in bony whiteness, glittered there, Shrunken and sinewless, and ghastly bare; From lips that moved not and unbreathing frame, Like caverned 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!"

ON JORDAN'S BANKS.

ON Jordan's banks the Arab's camels stray,
On Sion's hills the False One's votaries pray,
The Baal-adorer bows on Sinai's steep-

Yet there even there-oh God! thy thunders sleep:

-

There - where thy finger scorched the tablet stone! where thy shadow to thy people shone!

There

Thy glory shrouded in its garb of fire:

Thyself

none living see and not expire!

Oh! in the lightning let thy glance appear!

Sweep from his shivered hand the oppressor's spear:

How long by tyrants shall thy land be trod!

How long thy temple worshipless, Oh God!

IF THAT HIGH WORLD.

If that high world, which lies beyond
Our own, surviving Love endears;
If there the cherished heart be fond,

The eye the same, except in tears —
How welcome those untrodden spheres!
How sweet this very hour to die!
To soar from earth, and find all fears
Lost in thy light — Eternity!

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!

MY SOUL IS DARK.

My soul is dark-Oh! quickly string
The harp I yet can brook to hear;
And let thy gentle fingers fling

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,
Nor let thy notes of joy be first:
I tell thee, minstrel, I must weep,

Or else this heavy heart will burst;
For it hath been by sorrow nurst,

And ached in sleepless silence long; And now 'tis doomed to know the worst, And break at once or yield to song. 19*