Are those her infants, that with suppliant cry, Cling round her, shrinking as the flame draws nigh, Clasp with their feeble hands her gorgeous vest, And fain would rush for shelter to her breast? Is that a mother's glance, where stern disdain, And passion awfully vindictive, reign? Fix'd is her eye on Asdrubal, who stands, Scorn'd and dishonour'd live!—with blasted name, Bright in her hand the lifted dagger gleams, Swift from her children's hearts the life-blood streams; With frantic laugh she clasps them to her breast, HELIODORUS IN THE TEMPLE. "Then it would From Maccabees, book 2. chapter iii. 21. have pitied a man to see the falling-down of the multitude of all sorts, and the fear of the high-priest, being in such an agony.22. They then called upon the Almighty Lord to keep the things committed of trust safe and sure, for those that had committed them.-23. Nevertheless, Heliodorus executed that which was decreed.-24. Now as he was there present himself with his guard about the treasury, the Lord of Spirits, and the Prince of all Power, caused a great apparition, so that all that presumed to come in with him were astonished at the power of God, and fainted, and were sore afraid.-25. For there appeared unto them a horse with a terrible rider upon him, and adorned with a very fair covering, and he ran fiercely, and smote at Heliodorus with his fore-feet, and it seemed that he that sat upon the horse had a complete harness of gold.-26. Moreover, two other young men appeared before him, notable in strength, excellent in beauty, and comely in apparel, who stood by him on either side, and scourged him continually, and gave him many sore stripes.-27. And Heliodorus fell suddenly to the ground, and was compassed with great darkness; but they that were with him took him up and put him into a litter.-28. Thus him that lately came with great train, and with all his guard into the said treasury, they carried out, being unable to help himself with his weapons, and mani festly they acknowledged the power of God.-29. For he by the hand of God was cast down, and lay speechless, without all hope of life." A SOUND of Woe in Salem!-mournful cries Rose from her dwellings-youthful cheeks were pale, Tears flowing fast from dim and aged eyes, And voices mingling in tumultuous wail; Hands raised to heaven in agony of prayer, And powerless wrath, and terror, and despair. Thy daughters, Judah! weeping, laid aside The regal splendour of their fair array, But on the spoiler moves-the temple's gate, Its courts and pillars, rich with sculptured gold; And man, with eye unhallow'd, views th' abode, The sever'd spot, the dwelling-place of God. Where art thou, Mighty Presence! that of yore Angel of God! that through th' Assyrian host, Wilt thou not wake, O Chastener! in thy might, To guard thine ancient and majestic hill, Where oft from heaven the full Shechinah's light Hath stream'd the house of holiness to fill? Fearless of thee, the plunderer, undismay'd, Away, intruders!-hark! a mighty sound! His neck is clothed with thunder'-and his mane "Hast thou given the horse strength? Hast thou clothed his neck with thunder ?"— Job, chap. xxxix. v. 19. Is as a meteor-ardent with disdain His glance-his gesture, fierce in majesty! Instinct with light he seems, and formed to bear Some dread archangel through the fields of air. But who is he, in panoply of gold, Throned on that burning charger? bright his form, Yet in its brightness awful to behold, And girt with all the terrors of the storm! Lightning is on his helmet's crest-and fear Shrinks from the splendour of his brow severe. And by his side two radiant warriors stand All-arm'd, and kingly in commanding graceOh! more than kingly-godlike!-sternly grand Their port indignant, and each dazzling face Beams with the beauty to immortals given, Magnificent in all the wrath of heaven. Then sinks each gazer's heart-each knee is bow'd Darkness-thick darkness!-low on earth he lies, Rash Heliodorus-motionless and paleBloodless his cheek, and o'er his shrouded eyes Mists, as of death, suspend their shadowy veil; And thus th' oppressor, by his fear-struck train, Is borne from that inviolable fane. VOL. II.- - 11 |