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who shared my diadem; She sunk, with her my joys entombing; I swept that flower from Judah’s stem
Whose leaves for me alone were blooming. And mine's the guilt, and mine the hell,
This bosom's desolation dooming; And I have earn'd those tortures well,
Which unconsumed are still consuming!
ON THE DAY OF THE DESTRUCTION OF
JERUSALEM BY TITUS.
From the last hill that looks on thy once holy dome
I beheld thee, Oh Sion! when rendered to Rome :
'Twas thy last sun went down, and the flames of
Flash'd back on the last glance I gave to thy wall.
I look'd for thy temple, I look'd for my home,
On many an eve, the high spot whence I gazed Had reflected the last beam of day as it blazed; While I stood on the height, and beheld the decline
Of the rays from the mountain that shone on thy IV.
And now on that mountain I stood on that day, But I mark'd not the twilight beam melting away; Oh! would that the lightning had glared in its stead, And the thunderbolt burst on the conqueror's head!
But the Gods of the Pagan shall never profane The shrine where Jehovah disdain'd not to reign ; And scattered and scorn'd as thy people may be, Our worship, oh Father! is only for thee.