The voice of thunder from the sacred man- "Welcome!-I bid thee welcome-Israel's God Permits thee in his presence-I oppose No more thine entrance to the Holy Place The finger of the Eternal beckons thee He hath resign'd his seat-Manasseh's God Shall rule Manasseh's people-hasten-go- Oppose thee to the Ark-So Dagon did In Ashdod once-but not like thee he strode Triumphant over Israel-thou above
Thy Brother Demons-none but thee have dared This majesty of sin. Jehovah goes!
Sublimity of Hell, Manasseh bows
His soul in adoration."
Laugh'd as in ecstasy-" He hath declared
His God is powerless; he submits, and thee,
Oh, Baal, to thy temple we convey,
With song, and dance, and honours-'neath thy wing, Son of the Morning, cowers th' eternal Throne Of David for thy shelter.
The songs of delight
Shall swell all around thee,
With a girdle of light
To our land we have bound thee.
The dull sleeping Earth
At our summons shall wake,
Gird her form with the chain
Which never shall break.
The dull sleeping Earth
With rapture shall bound,
And her aged form grow young at the sound, Which spreadeth thy might, and thy glory around.
Should stand between the Cherubim-the priests All weeping shrunk, the Levites rent their robes, And the High-Priest stood with a ghastly look, Covering his breastplate with his trembling hand, For the prophetic stones had lost their hue, Grown pale with horror;-from his mitred brow The mystic sentence, the dread "holiness," The signet of the bond of God and man, Had almost vanish'd, for the letters shew'd Wavering and faint, as they had written been Upon the wat'ry moon.—
Turn'd his dim eye upon the gifted Man, The sanctified, whom the high Seraphim Had purified with fire of Heaven from Iniquity of carth-but he did stand In motionless majesty a sublimity Of horror was around him—from his eye They caught a gleam of light-it kindled up Into their souls, and the prophetic blaze
Burst forth to King Manasseh.
Hark! how the concave vaults of the blue Heaven
Are shaken by the storms which howl afar!
Earth rocks-the dreadful thunderbolt hath riven Her canopy-ah! for the fallen star,
Wildly through upper air I see it driven- Now, sinking to the earth amid the screams Of shrieking spectres, and the fiery gleams Of hellish torches lighting its dread fall Into annihilation-Fiends have trod O'er its celestial glories-Mercy, God!
CHORUS OF SINGERS.
Away, away!
Vanish, ye dreams of Night, before the Day Star of the Morning rise, and distant chase Those spectres from the couch of Ether, where Pale Earth lies sleeping,-on her pallid face Imprint thy kiss-and on her forehead fair, She will reflect thy glories, and then be Bright, pure, and beautiful-Oh, Baal, like thee!
"Bright," said the Son of Amos, smiling stern, "Sheweth the day-but it is short-the night, For cycles, heap'd on cycles, shall endureUnbroken shall its darkness be, until
The torch of War shall give ye light to mark How wither'd Famine shall glide staring by, And Desolation leap abroad, and dance Above the ashes of the unpeopled world-
And Freedom shall be there, but bathed in blood, And chain'd to Ashur's foot."
He comes! he comes!-Baalim hath ascended Jehovah's Throne; and lo! where come attended, By troops of victims, all the Demons foul, Who on his triumph haste their joy to scowl-
Wilt thou not ban them hence, thou Mighty One? No-they must reign !-thy will-thy will be done!- There is a festival proclaim'd in Hell,
The demons rush to Earth, the tidings glad to tell.
"Judah is ours"-and from the deep, Mark how the myriad monsters creep→→ Lo! Dagon rolls his fin-clad form, Up from his ocean throne of storm- Belial rises from his bed,
By hell's fiery billows spread- And ascendeth Chemos vile Cursing with insidious smile- Moloch, black with smoke and blood Won from fell Gehenna's flood- Astaroth, with diadem bright, Mocks Jehovah's crown of light- These, and more than I can name, Come a home on earth to claim; These, and more than I can tell, Have made a holiday in hell!
CHORUS OF SINGERS.
Ye soft songs of gladness, To Baalim arise-
Lord, banish our sadness, Wipe all tears from our eyes. Thou wilt not forsake us, Abandon us never,
But thou comest to make us Thine own, and for ever- Light, O King, is thy yoke, With transport we bear it, Be thy chain still unbroke, With triumph we wear it- Amid thunders and night Came Jehovah's stern voice, Amid music and light Thou bad'st us rejoice. The Son of the Flood, With a finger of fire, In letters of blood, Grav'd Jehovah's desire. His law in rejecting,
We turn unto thee;
His dictates neglecting, Thine worshipp'd shall be.
Then save and regard us,
Abandon us never,
But thus-Oh reward us,
Make us thine, and for ever!
Then said the Prophet, and his voice grew loud,
And deep, and chill, as Sinai's earliest groans,
When God first press'd the labouring mountain's breast"Hear, ye rebellious-hear and tremble-lo!
Thus saith the Wonderful,' whose unknown name
Is written by the stars upon the Heaven.
I speak no more in mystery, but declare
Aloud the horrors of your fate. She comes,
Purple Assyria, with her hand of steel,
And heart of fire, and eye of blood, and soul Harden'd from tears and pity; round the steps Of her white courser float the shrieking shades From Hinnom's fire-lit valley. Judah's sons, Watching the day of vengeance-Judah's sons, Manasseh's children-O'er whose fire-scorch'd heads David looks down, from his abodes of bliss, And shuddering weeps."
Then said the furious King, "Now, from my inmost soul, I hate thy face, Thou son of Amos. Nought of good, or bliss, Wishest thou unto me, or David's house, Which thy foul lip hath cursed.-Thou shalt die, Thou shalt not see the evil which thou deem'st Shall fall upon our land. A lying spirit Hath enter'd in thee, and declareth ill Where all is bliss around thee. Are we not Blessed above all nations? If the Chaldean Cometh as thou hast said, may he not fear The doom, such as within my father's days O'ertook his mighty Host?"
"Thy father's heart was at Jehovah's foot,
But thou hast turn'd from him who fought that fight, And now he aids thee not."
Said the proud king, "will bless our mighty arms, Or by supernal power destroy our foe,
And strike his favour'd chiefs-thy words are false; Thyself a lie-they will not-dare not come
Pay they not tribute? Judah's sacred soil
Shall never be polluted by the tread
Of hostile warriors."
Said fierce Manasseh-" she hath met the doom
Her crime had merited-rebellion bold
'Gainst David's royal house. Hoshea dies;
But David shall remain-Sit I not here
Upon my father's throne, of which thy God,
Whose name thou say'st is truth, hath deeply sworn,
E'en by himself, for ever should endure?
What then have I to fear? Almighty Baal,
Thou, too, protect thy servant."
CHORUS OF SINGERS.
What to us is Chaldea's wrath,
Or Samaria's bitter fate
We will pour our myriads forth, When the foe is at our gate. Let Samaria die !-our hate Is her meed-Hoshea fall! With this triumph too elate, Deem'd Sennacherib, that all
Should bow beneath his sceptre's rule; But his camp of death awoke
Him from that dream-crush'd his proud hope, And the tremendous angel thunder'd, "Fool! Thou wilt find room to die at home-thy pride Be humbled unto dust-He went-he fled-he died!" XIX.
"Did Nisroch save the King," Isaiah said, "Or Baal, that thus ye bow the knee before His filthy Godhead, in his Temple's courts He died in worshipping-beware-beware!- Cease your blasphemous songs, they are to me Convulsive laughters of a dying Man-
Woe to the Crown of Pride-to Ariel woe! Round thee, the fierce Assyrian draws his lines, Thunders upon Judea, death and chains— Cry out, oh land! fear, and the pit, and snares Are fall'n upon thee-Majesty is dead! Chains for the King Manasseh."
Leap'd from his seat, and with his terrible sword, Smote to the heart Isaiah-he fell down
Prostrate before the king, and cried aloud,— "Cover, oh earth, my blood, nor let it rise In judgment 'gainst my people-cover it Until the day of consummation fill
The red cup to the brim-and, hark! the cry Of the press'd billows as they groan beneath The winged ships of Chaldea-on thy shores
Lodge they their steeled burthen-chains and death— Chains for the King Manasseh!"-
His head and died-and then around him bent The weeping Priests, regardless of the wrath Of stern Manasseh-and the inspired theme
Rose with Isaiah's spirit from the dust, And sat upon them, as with solemn song
They graced his corse, and mock'd the tyrant's rage.
I see it but afar
A higher, brighter Star
Setting in blood
Wild rolls the angry flood
Of sin, and wrath to quench its beauteous light.
"Tis past-'tis done! for lo!
The Sun of Righteousness hath set in deepest night!—
« PrécédentContinuer » |