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Could rove each desolated Ife,
Tho'midnight thunders shook the pile;
And dauntless view, or seem to view,

(As faintly flash the lightnings blue)
Thin shiv'ring Ghosts from yawning charnels throng,
And glance with filent sweep the shaggy vaults along.


But such terrific charms as these,
I ask not yet: My sober mind
The fainter forms of sadness please ;
My sorrows are of softer kind.
Thro' this still valley let me stray,
Wrapt in some strain of pensive GRAY:
Whose lofty Genius bears along
The conscious dignity of Song;
And, scorning from the sacred store
To waste a note on Pride, or Power,
Roves, when the glimmering twilight glooms,
And warbles mid the rustic tombs:

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He too perchance (for well I know,

His heart would melt with friendly woe) He too perchance, when these poor limbs are laid, Will heave one tuneful figh, and footh my hov’ring Shade.


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THE Prophet, having in the preceding chapter fore-

told the destruction of Babylon, subjoins the following Song of Triumph, which he supposes the Jews will sing when his prediction is fulfilled. «* And it Mall come to pass in the day that the Lord fall give thee rest from thy sorrow, and from thy fear, and from the bard bond

wherein thou was made to serve, that thou shalt take up this proverb against the King of Babylon, and say, &c.


* Verses the third and fourth.





Chapter XIV. Verse 4.

- HOW bath the oppresor ceased! the golden

city ceased!

5. The Lord bath broken the Raf of the wicked, and the sceptre of the rulers.

6. He who Smote the people in wrath with a continual Aroke, be that ruled the nations in anger, is persecuted and none bindereth.

7. The




On the Fate of TYRANNY.

1. I.


PPRESSION dies : the City falls :
Behold she bows her golden walls !

JEHOVAH breaks the Tyrant's rod.
The Son of Wrath, whose ruthless hand

Hurld Desolation o'er the land,
Has run his raging race, has clos'd the scene of blood.

Chiefs arm'd around behold their vanquish'd Lord;
Nor spread the seven-fold shield, nor grasp the vengeful sword.


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