Classic Poem

THE warriors of David came down in their ire,
And Edom was scathed with their deluge of fire;
O'er the wrecks of its throne roll'd oblivion's dark flood,
And the thirst of its valleys was satiate with blood.

Its prince, a lone outcast, an orphan distrest,
In the palace of Egypt found refuge and rest,
And the queen's gentle sister, with eye like the dove,
Became in her beauty the bride of his love.

Yet still, a dark shade o'er his features would stray,
Though the lute-strings thrill'd soft and the banquet was gay;
For the land of his fathers in secreThe pined,
And murmur'd his grief to the waves and the wind.

“The voice of my country! it haunteth my dreams,
I start from my sleep at the rush of its streams;
Oh, monarch of Egypt! sole friend in my wo,
I would see it once more. Let me go! let me go!”

“Wouldst thou hie to the desert, and couch with the bear?
Or the lion disturb in his desolate lair?
Wouldst thou camp on the ruins with brambles o'ergrown,
While the blasts in their mockery respond to thy moan?

“Know'st thou not that the sword of stern Joab was red
Till the dukes of Idumea were slaughter'd and dead?
Know'st thou not that his vengeance relax'd not, nor stay'd
Till six moons wax'd and waned o'er the carnage he made?”

“I know that our roof-trees in ashes were laid,
And the vine and the olive hew'd down from each glade;
Yet still some pale sprouts from their roots may be seen,
And the clefts of the rock with their foliage be green.

“I know that our virgins, so stately and fair,
Who wreathed with the pearl and the topaz their hair,
That our merchants, whose wealth with a monarch's has vied,
In Phœnicia and Zidon in bondage abide.

“But roused by my trumpet, the captives shall haste
From the far, foreign realms, where their life-blood they waste;
From the walls of Azotus with speed they shall fly,
And nest, like the bird, 'neath their own native sky.”

“O prince of red Edom, content thee, be still;
Of the treasures of Egypt partake at thy will;
See, thy wife lights thy bower with the wealth of her charms,
And thy babe, as she names thee, leaps high in her arms.

“Thou know'st from thy realm all the people have fled,
That the friends of thy childhood are cold with the dead;
Every drop of thy blood from that region is reft,
No voice of thy kindred to welcome thee. left.”

“Let me go, king of Egypt, to visit my slain,
To weep o'er their dust, who revive not again;
Though nought in their courts save the lizard should glide,
And the bat flap his wing in their chambers of pride,

“Yet still shall Mount Seir in his grandeur remain,
Still the rivers roll on to the fathomless main,
If no tone of the living should solace my wo,
To the land of my birth, let me go, let me go.”