« PreviousContinue »
SUN OF THE SLEEPLESS!
SUN OF THE SLEEPLESS! melancholy star!
WERE MY BOSOM AS FALSE AS THOU
DEEM'ST IT TO BE.
WERE MY BOSOMAS FALSE AS THOU DEEM'ST IT TO BE,
I need not have wandered from far Galilee;
If the bad never triumph, then God is with thee!
I have lost for that faith more than thou canst
As the God who permits thee to prosper doth know; In his hand is my heart and my hope—and in thine The land and the life which for him I resign.
HEROD'S LAMENT FOR MARIAMNE.
OH, Mariamne! now for thee
The heart for which thou bled'st is bleeding; Revenge is lost in agony,
And wild remorse to rage succeeding.
Oh, Mariamne! where art thou?
Thou canst not hear my bitter pleading: Ah, could’st thou—thou would'st pardon now,
Though heaven were to my prayer unheeding.
And is she dead ?-and did they dare
Obey my phrensy's jealous raving? My wrath bút doom'd my own despair:
The sword that smote her 's o'er me waving.
But thou art cold, my murdered love!
And this dark heart is vainly craving
For her who soars alone above,
And leaves my soul unworthy saving.