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| ZION! of thine exiles’ peace take thought, | |
| The remnant of thy flock, who thine have sought! | |
| From west, from east, from north and south resounds, | |
| Afar and now anear, from all thy bounds, | |
| And no surcease, | 5 |
| “With thee be peace!” | |
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| In longing’s fetters chained I greet thee, too, | |
| My tears fast welling forth like Hermon’s dew— | |
| O bliss could they but drop on holy hills! | |
| A croaking bird I turn, when through me thrills | 10 |
| Thy desolate state; but when I dream anon, | |
| The Lord brings back thy ev’ry captive son— | |
| A harp straightway | |
| To sing thy lay. | |
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| In heart I dwell where once thy purest son | 15 |
| At Bethel and Peniel, triumphs won; | |
| God’s awesome presence there was close to thee, | |
| Whose doors thy Maker, by divine decree, | |
| Opposed as mates | |
| To heaven’s gates. | 20 |
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| Nor sun, nor moon, nor stars had need to be; | |
| God’s countenance alone illumined thee | |
| On whose elect He poured His spirit out. | |
| In thee would I my soul pour forth devout! | |
| Thou wert the kingdom’s seat, of God the throne, | 25 |
| And now there dwells a slave race, not thine own, | |
| In royal state, | |
| Where reigned thy great. | |
| |
| O would that I could roam o’er ev’ry place | |
| Where God to missioned prophets showed His grace! | 30 |
| And who will give me wings? An off’ring meet, | |
| I’d haste to lay upon thy shattered seat, | |
| Thy counterpart— | |
| My bruised heart. | |
| |
| Upon thy precious ground I’d fall prostrate, | 35 |
| Thy stones caress, the dust within thy gate, | |
| And happiness it were in awe to stand | |
| At Hebron’s graves, the treasures of thy land, | |
| And greet thy woods, thy vine-clad slopes, thy vales, | |
| Greet Abarim and Hor, whose light ne’er pales, | 40 |
| A radiant crown, | |
| Thy priests’ renown. | |
| |
| Thy air is balm for souls; like myrrh thy sand; | |
| With honey run the rivers of thy land. | |
| Though bare my feet, my heart’s delight I’d count | 45 |
| To tread my way all o’er thy desert mount, | |
| Where once rose tall | |
| Thy holy hall. | |
| |
| Where stood thy treasure-ark, in recess dim, | |
| Close-curtained, guarded o’er by cherubim, | 50 |
| My Naz’rite’s crown would I pluck off, and cast | |
| It gladly forth. With curses would I blast | |
| The impious time thy people, diadem-crowned, | |
| Thy Nazirites, did pass, by en’mies bound | |
| With hatred’s bands, | 55 |
| Through unclean lands. | |
| |
| By dogs thy lusty lions are brutal torn | |
| And dragged; thy strong, young eaglets, heav’nward borne, | |
| By foul-mouthed ravens snatched, and all undone. | |
| Can food still tempt my taste? Can light of sun | 60 |
| Seem fair to shine | |
| To eyes like mine? | |
| |
| Soft, soft! Leave off a while, O cup of pain! | |
| My loins are weighted down, my heart and brain, | |
| With bitterness from thee. Whene’er I think | 65 |
| Of Aholah, proud northern queen, I drink | |
| Thy wrath, and when my Aholibah forlorn | |
| Comes back to mind—’tis then I quaff thy scorn, | |
| Then, draught of pain, | |
| Thy lees I drain. | 70 |
| |
| O Zion! Crown of grace! Thy comeliness | |
| Hath ever favor won and fond caress. | |
| Thy faithful lovers’ lives are bound in thine; | |
| They joy in thy security, but pine | |
| And weep in gloom | 75 |
| O’er thy sad doom. | |
| |
| From out the prisoner’s cell they sigh for thee, | |
| And each in prayer, wherever he may be, | |
| Towards thy demolished portals turns. Exiled, | |
| Dispersed from mount to hill, thy flock defiled | 80 |
| Hath not forgot thy sheltering fold. They grasp | |
| Thy garment’s hem, and trustful, eager, clasp | |
| With outstretched arms, | |
| Thy branching palms. | |
| |
| Shinar, Pathros—can they in majesty | 85 |
| With thee compare? Or their idolatry | |
| With thy Urim and thy Thummim august? | |
| Who can surpass thy priests, thy saintly just, | |
| Thy prophets bold, | |
| And bards of old? | 90 |
| |
| The heathen kingdoms change and wholly cease— | |
| Thy might alone stands firm without decrease, | |
| Thy Nazarites from age to age abide, | |
| Thy God in thee desireth to reside. | |
| Then happy he who maketh choice of thee | 95 |
| To dwell within thy courts, and waits to see, | |
| And toils to make, | |
| Thy light awake. | |
| |
| On him shall as the morning break thy light, | |
| The bliss of thy elect shall glad his sight, | 100 |
| In thy felicities shall he rejoice, | |
| In triumph sweet exult, with jubilant voice, | |
| O’er thee, adored, | |
| To youth restored. | |
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