LET US DEPART.
207
There were shouts of kindred warfare
Through the dark streets ringing high.
Though every sign was full which told
Of the bloody vintage nigh.
Though the wild red spears and arrows
Of many a meteor host,
Went flashing o'er the holy stars,
In the sky now seen, now lost.
And that fearful sound was heard
In the Temple's deepest heart,
As if mighty wings rush'd by,
And a voice cried mournfully,
"Let us depart!"
But within the fated city
There was revelry that night;
The wine-cup and the timbrel note,
And the blaze of banquet light.
