And, standing at the altar's side,
I shared the Levites' lingering pride,
That still, amidst her mocking foes,
The smoke of Zion's offering rose.

In sudden whirlwind, cloud and flamə
The Spirit of the Highest came !
Before mine eyes a vision passed,
A glory terrible and vast;

With dreadful eyes of living things,
And sounding sweep of angel wings
With circling light and sapphire throne
And flame-like form of One thereon,
And voice of that dread Likeness sent
Down from the crystal firmament !

The burden of a prophet's power
Fell on me in that fearful hour;
From off unutterable woes
The curtain of the future rose ;
I saw far down the coming time
The fiery chastisement of crime;
With noise of mingling hosts, and jar
Of falling towers and shouts of war,
I saw the nations rise and fall,
Like fire-gleams on my tent's white wall

In dream and trance, I saw the slain
Of Egypt heaped like harvest grain,
I saw the walls of sea-born Tyre
Swept over by the spoiler's fire;
And heard the low, expiring moan
Of Edom on his rocky throne;
And, woe is me! the wild lament
From Zion's desolation sent;
And felt within my heart each blow
Which laid her holy places low.

In bonds and sorrow, day by day,
Before the pictured tile I lay;
And there, as in a mirror, saw
The coming of Assyria's war,-
Her swarthy lines of spearmen pass
Like locusts through Bethhoron's grass;
I saw them draw their stormy hem
Of battle round Jerusalem;

And, listening, heard the Hebrew wail
Blend with the victor-trump of Baal!

Who trembled at my warning word? Who owned the prophet of the Lord? How mocked the rude, how scoffed

the vile,How stung the Levites' scornful smile

As o'er my spirit, dark and slow,
The shadow crept of Israel's woe,
As if the angel's mournful roll
Had left its record on my soul,
And traced in lines of darkness there
The picture of its great despair!

Yet ever at the hour I feel
My lips in prophecy unseal.
Prince, priest, and Levite gather near,
And Salem's daughters haste to hear,
On Chebar's waste and alien shore,
The harp of Judah swept once more.
They listen, as in Babel's throng
The Chaldeans to the dancer's song,
Or wild sabbeka's nightly play,
As careless and as vain as they.

And thus, O Prophet-bard of old,
Hast thou thy tale of sorrow told!
The same which earth's unwelcome

seers

Ilave felt in all succeeding years.
Sport of the changeful multitude,
Nor calmly heard nor understood,
Their song has seemed a trick of art,
Their warnings but the actor's part.
With bonds, and scorn, and evil will,
The world requites its prophets still.

So was it when the Holy One
The garments of the flesh put on !
Men followed where the Highest led
For common gifts of daily bread,
And gross of ear, of vision dim,
Owned not the godlike power of him.
Vain as a dreamer's words to them
His wail above Jerusalem,

And meaningless the watch he kept
Through which his weak disciples slept.

Yet shrink not thou, whoe'er thou art,
For God's great purpose set apart,
Before whose far-discerning eyes,
The Future as the Present lies!
Beyond a narrow-bounded age
Stretches thy prophet-heritage,
Through Heaven's dim spaces angel-
trod,

Through arches round the throne of
God!

Thy audience, worlds! - all Time to be The witness of the Truth in thee!

109

THE WIFE OF MANOAH TO HER HUSBAND.

AGAINST the sunset's glowing wall
The city towers rise black and tall,
Where Zorah on its rocky height,
Stands like an armed man in the light.

Down Eshtaol's vales of ripened grain
Falls like a cloud the night amain,
And up the hillsides climbing slow
The barley reapers homeward go.

Look, dearest ! how our fair child's head
The sunset light hath hallowed,
Where at this olive's foot he lies,
Uplooking to the tranquil skies.

O, while beneath the fervent heat
Thy sickle swept the bearded wheat,
I've watched, with mingled joy and
dread,
Our child upon his

grassy

bed.

No angel down the blue space spoke, No thunder from the still sky broke; But in their midst, in power and awe, Like God's waked wrath, OUR CHILD I saw !

A child no more! - harsh-browed and strong,

He towered a giant in the throng, And down his shoulders, broad and bare,

Swept the black terror of his hair.

He raised his arm; he smote amain;
As round the reaper falls the grain,
So the dark host around him fell,
So sank the foes of Israel!

Again I looked. In sunlight shone
The towers and domes of Askelon.
Priest, warrior, slave, a mighty crowd,
Within her idol temple bowed.

Yet one knelt not; stark, gaunt, and blind,

His arms the massive pillars twined, -
An eyeless captive, strong with hate,
He stood there like an evil Fate.

The red shrines smoked,
pets pealed:
He stooped,
reeled,

the trum

the giant columns

Reeled tower and fane, sank arch and wall,

And the thick dust-cloud closed o'er all!

And gray old men at evening tell
Of all he wrought for Israel.

"And they who sing and they who hear
Alike shall hold thy memory dear,
And pour their blessings on thy head,
O mother of the mighty dead !"

It ceased; and though a sound I heard
As if great wings the still air stirred,
I only saw the barley sheaves
And hills half hid by olive leaves.

I bowed my face, in awe and fear,
On the dear child who slumbered near.
"With me, as with my only son,
O God," I said, THY

DONE!"

66

WILL

BB

THE CITIES OF THE PLAIN.

66 GET ye up from the wrath of God's terrible day!

Ungirded, unsandalled, arise and away! 'Tis the vintage of blood, 't is the fulness of time,

And vengeance shall gather the harvest of crime !"

The warning was spoken: the righteous had

gone,

And the proud ones of Sodom were feasting alone;

All gay was the banquet; the revel was long,

With the pouring of wine and the breathing of song.

'T was an evening of beauty; the air was perfume,

The earth was all greenness, the trees were all bloom;

And softly the delicate viol was heard, Like the murmur of love or the notes of a bird.

And beautiful maidens moved down in the dance,

With the magic of motion and sunshine of glance;

And white arms wreathed lightly, and tresses fell free

As the plumage of birds in some trop ical tree.