For their salvation:--so he passed his days
Peaceful, but sad; and now, with anxious gaze,
He turned his look to the mysterious man,
Who, steadfastly beholding him, thus spoke:
The voice of prophecy has been fulfilled;
Where is the Temple? where Jerusalem?
Ah! wretched city! Famine, war, and woe 190
Have done their destined work. The living drops[121]
Dead on the carcase he is burying!
That famished babe is black! Oh! turn away!
All--all is silent now; and thou hast seen
This prophecy fulfilled, for not one stone
Of beautiful and sacred Solima
Is left upon another! He who died,
When he beheld the city, o'er it wept,
And said, O daughters of Jerusalem!
Weep not for me, but for your little ones! 200
The tender words--dost thou remember them?
Jerusalem, Jerusalem! how oft
Would I have gathered up those little ones,
Even as a hen beneath a mother's wing; 204
But ye would not: and now, behold your house
Is left unto you desolate! Alas!
How desolate! But even in those last days
Warning was given, if yet they would repent.
A bloody sword, like a red comet, hung
Above the Temple, and a strange sad light 210
Sat on the altar; while the inner gate,
Untouched, at midnight burst its brazen bars,
And stood wide open; armed men did fight
Amid the clouds; and, in the dead of night,
The pale priest heard a voice, Depart! depart![122]
So the fair city of Jerusalem
Perished: but, lo! Christ's holy Church shall rise--
Rise from its ashes--yea, is risen now;
Its glorious gates shall never be cast down,
Till He, the King of glory, shall appear! 220
He founded it upon a rock--a rock,
Which time, the rushing earthquake, or the storm,
Whilst earth endures, shall never shake!
Old man,
Beloved of the Lord, wouldst thou know more--
What things shall be hereafter? rise and mark!
The old man, lifting up his eyelids, slow,
Saw a door opened in the heaven, and heard
A voice, as of a trumpet: Come and see!
Straight he was in the Spirit, and the voice 230
Inquired, What vision comes? The seer replied:
There is a throne in heaven,[123] and on the throne
One sitteth, and he seems, to look upon,
Red as a sardine-