שירי ישרון

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1890 - 45 pages
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Page 12 - The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green, That host with their banners at sunset were seen; Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown, That host on the morrow lay wither'd and strown.
Page 26 - Shall it survey, shall it recall : Each fainter trace that memory holds So darkly of departed years, In one broad glance the soul beholds, And all, that was, at once appears.
Page 24 - In that same hour and hall, The fingers of a hand Came forth against the wall, And wrote as if on sand: The fingers of a man; — A solitary hand Along the letters ran, And traced them like a wand.
Page 14 - BY THE RIVERS OF BABYLON WE SAT DOWN AND WEPT. 1. WE sate down and wept by the waters Of Babel, and thought of the day When our foe, in the hue of his slaughters, Made Salem's high places his prey; And ye, oh her desolate daughters!
Page 22 - A captive in the land, A stranger and a youth, He heard the king's command, He saw that writing's truth. The lamps around were bright, The prophecy in view; He read it on that night— The morrow proved it true.
Page 38 - And of this, oh, my Father ! be sure — That the blood of thy child is as pure As the blessing I beg ere it flow, And the last thought that soothes me below.
Page 40 - And where shall Israel lave her bleeding feet? And when shall Zion's songs again seem sweet? And Judah's melody once more rejoice The hearts that...
Page 44 - tis not for self That we so tremble on the brink ; And striving to o'erleap the gulf, Yet cling to Being's severing link. Oh ! in that future let us think To hold each heart the heart that shares. With them the immortal waters drink, And soul in soul grow deathless theirs ! THE WILD GAZELLE.
Page 12 - And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride: And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf.
Page 24 - Chaldea's seers are good, But here they have no skill ; And the unknown letters stood Untold and awful still. And Babel's men of age Are wise and deep in lore ; But now they were not sage, They saw — but knew no more. A captive in the land, A stranger and a youth, He heard the king's command, He...

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