| |
From Ivanhoe WHEN Israel, of the Lord beloved, | |
| Out from the land of bondage came, | |
| Her fathers God before her moved, | |
| An awful guide, in smoke and flame. | |
| By day, along the astonished lands, | 5 |
| The cloudy pillar glided slow: | |
| By night, Arabias crimsoned sands | |
| Returned the fiery columns glow. | |
| |
| There rose the choral hymn of praise, | |
| And trump and timbrel answered keen, | 10 |
| And Zions daughters poured their lays, | |
| With priests and warriors voice between. | |
| No portents now our foes amaze, | |
| Forsaken Israel wanders lone: | |
| Our fathers would not know Thy ways, | 15 |
| And Thou hast left them to their own. | |
| |
| But, present still, though now unseen! | |
| When brightly shines the prosperous day, | |
| Be thoughts of Thee a cloudy screen | |
| To temper the deceitful ray. | 20 |
| And O, when stoops on Judahs path | |
| In shade and storm the frequent night, | |
| Be Thou, long-suffering, slow to wrath, | |
| A burning and a shining light! | |
| |
| Our harps we left by Babels streams, | 25 |
| The tyrants jest, the Gentiles scorn; | |
| No censer round our altar beams, | |
| And mute are timbrel, harp, and horn. | |
| But Thou hast said, The blood of goat, | |
| The flesh of rams, I will not prize; | 30 |
| A contrite heart, a humble thought, | |
| Are mine accepted sacrifice. | |
| |