For he who soars alone above,
And leaves my soul unworthy saving.
III.
She's gone, who shared my diadem;
She sunk, with her my joys entombing;
I swept that flower from Judah's stem,
Whose leaves for me alone were blooming;
And mine's the guilt, and mine the hell,
This bosom's desolation dooming;
And I have earned those tortures well,[1]
Which unconsumed are still consuming!
ON THE DAY OF THE DESTRUCTION OF JERUSALEM BY TITUS.
I.
From the last hill that looks on thy once holy dome,[2]
I beheld thee, oh Sion! when rendered to Rome:[3]
'Twas thy last sun went down, and the flames of thy fall
Flashed back on the last glance I gave to thy wall.
II.
I looked for thy temple—I looked for my home,
And forgot for a moment my bondage to come;[4]
I beheld but the death-fire that fed on thy fane,
And the fast-fettered hands that made vengeance in vain.
