Then why, my soul, dost thou complain- ! Why drooping seek the dark recess? Shake off the melancholy chain;
For God created all to bless.
But ah! my breast is human still;
The rising sigh, the falling tear,
My languid vitals' feeble rill,
The sickness of my soul declare.
But yet, with fortitude resigned,
I'll thank the inflictor of the blowForbid the sigh, compose my mind,
Nor let the gush of misery flow.
The gloomy mantle of the night,
Which on my sinking spirit steals, Will vanish at the morning light, Which God, my East, my Sun, reveals. THOMAS CHATTERTON.
KING of kings! and Lord of lords!
Thus we move, our sad steps timing
To our cymbals' feeblest chiming,
Where Thy house its rest accords.
Chased and wounded birds are we,
Through the dark air fled to Thee-
To the shadow of Thy wings,
Lord of lords! and King of kings!
Behold, O Lord! the heathen tread
The branches of Thy fruitful vine
That its luxurious tendrils spread
O'er all the hills of Palestine.
And now the wild boar comes to waste
Even us the greenest boughs and last,
That, drinking of Thy choicest dew,
On Zion's hill in beauty grew.
No! by the marvels of Thine hand,
Thou wilt save Thy chosen land!
By all Thine ancient mercies shown,
By all our fathers' foes o'erthrown;
By the Egyptian's car-borne host,
Scattered on the Red Sea coast-
By that wide and bloodless slaughter
Underneath the drowning water.
Like us, in utter helplessness,
In their last and worst distress-
On the sand and sea-weed lying—
Israel poured her doleful sighing;
While before the deep sea flowed,
And behind fierce Egypt rode-
To their fathers' God they prayed,
To the Lord of hosts for aid.
On the margin of the flood
With lifted rod the prophet stood;
And the summoned east wind blew,
And aside it sternly threw
The gathered waves that took their stand,
Like crystal rocks, on either hand,
Or walls of sea-green marble piled
Round some irregular city wild.
Then the light of morning lay
On the wonder-paved way,
Where the treasures of the deep
In their caves of coral sleep.
The profound abysses, where
Was never sound from upper air,
Rang with Israel's chanted words:
King of kings! and Lord of lords!
Then with bow and banner glancing,
On exulting Egypt came;
With her chosen horsemen prancing,
And her cars on wheels of flame,
In a rich and boastful ring,
All around her furious king.
But the Lord from out His cloud,
The Lord looked down upon the proud;
And the host drave heavily
Down the deep bosom of the sea.
With a quick and sudden swell
Prone the liquid ramparts fell;
Over horse, and over car,
Over every man of war,
Over Pharaoh's crown of gold,
The loud thundering billows rolled.
As the level waters spread,
Down they sank-they sank like lead-
Down sank without a cry or groan.
And the morning sun, that shone
On myriads of bright-armed men,
Its meridian radiance then
Cast on a wide sea, heaving, as of yore,
Against a silent, solitary shore.