Note 204 — PART II.

Fallen is the golden city! In the dust, Spoil’d of her crown, dismantled of her state, She that hath made the strength of towers her trust Weeps by her dead, supremely desolate! She that beheld the nations at her gate, Thronging in homage, shall be call’d no more Lady of kingdoms! Who shall mourn her fate? Her guilt is full, her march of triumph o’er— What widow’d land shall now her widowhood deplore? Sit thou in silence! Thou that wert enthroned On many waters!—thou, whose augurs read The language of the planets, and disown’d The mighty Name it blazons!—veil thy head, Daughter of Babylon! The sword is red From thy destroyer’s harvest, and the yoke Is on thee, O most proud!—for thou hast said, “I am, and none beside!” Th’ Eternal spoke; Thy glory was a spoil, thine idol-gods were broke! But go thou forth, O Israel!—wake! rejoice! Be clothed with strength, as in thine ancient day! Renew the sound of harps, th’ exulting voice, The mirth of timbrels!—loose the chain, and say God hath redeem’d his people!—from decay The silent and the trampled shall arise! Awake!—put on thy beautiful array, O long-forsaken Zion!—to the skies Send up on every wind thy choral melodies! And lift thy head!—Behold thy sons returning Redeem’d from exile, ransom’d from the chain, Light hath revisited the house of mourning: She that on Judah’s mountains wept in vain, Because her children were not, dwells again Girt with the lovely! Through thy streets once more, City of God! shall pass the bridal train, And the bright lamps their festive radiance pour, And the triumphal hymns thy joy of youth restore.