"I have stood where thousands, by Salem's towers,
Have fall'n for the name divine;
And the faith that cheer'd their closing hours
Shall be the light of mine."
"Thus wilt thou die in the pride of health,
And the glow of youth's fresh bloom?
Thou art offer'd life, and pomp, and wealth,
Or torture and the tomb."
"I have been where the crown of thorns was twined
For a dying Saviour's brow;
He spurn'd the treasures that lure mankind,
And I reject them now!"
"Art thou the son of a noble line
In a land that is fair and blest?
And doth not thy spirit, proud captive! pine,
Again on its shores to rest?
"Thine own is the choice to hail once more
The soil of thy fathers' birth,
Or to sleep, when thy lingering pangs are o'er,
Forgotten in foreign earth."
