"Then shall thy children, fruitful rise,

"As vines, around thy door;

"Thy flocks and herds give rich supplies; "And plenty crown thy store:

"Then bless'd thy city, bless'd thy field; "Abundance shall thy harvests yield."

"But Judah wanders wilfully,

"A straggling, scatter'd band;

Preferring a proud legendry,

"To Shiloh's meek command:

"The Roman eagle's on his walls—

And, now! his stately temple falls!"

V.

Air-" Oh, weep for those."

WEEP not for those who wept by Babel's stream; Behold them! thron'd in Glory's radiant beam, Exulting! strike their harps of endless strings: Hark! Heaven's arch, with their hosannah, rings!

If tears must flow, let them be duly shed,

Upon the graceless Christian's thoughtless head! These, "of the wand'ring foot and weary breast," Mourn not, for they have enter'd into rest.

Eternity's begun―Their welcome feet

Tread Zion's crystal courts and golden street;

"And Judah's melody, of other days,

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Again seems sweet," to souls redeem'd to praise.

VI.

Air-" On Jordan's Banks."

"ON Jordan's banks," the wand'ring tribes appear;
Twelve chosen priests the sacred ark uprear,
And place their feet within the swelling tide,
Which promptly parting, stands on either side.

Behind-a desart-wild and drear and brown;
Beyond the promis'd land, which harvests crown;
Boldly they march-where lately roll'd a flood,
A nointed Levites mute, but wond'ring, stood.

The joyful tribes, by favour'd Joshua led,
With songs of triumph, pass the river's bed:
The ark comes last-the torrent quickly knows
The bright Shechinah's gone, (a) and onward flows.

VII.

Air-" Jephthah's Daughter."

"Tis my people's transgressions require,
That I should on Mount Calv'ry expire;

And, tho' agony burst from each vein,
Lo I come! that, their peace, they obtain.

'Twas thy pleasure, to put me to grief;

That my stripes might bring Israel relief; That the curse which I bear on the cross, May restore to my ransom'd their loss.

Oh! then let me not shrink from the blow;
Tho' it lay thine Anointed One low:
Corruption can never inherit

The dwelling of thy Holy Spirit.

It is writ, in the VOLUME, of me,

That my soul of its travail shall see;
That my knowledge shall reconcile those
Who are, now, thine inveterate foes.

Oh, then! hasten to pour out the cup,
Which I willingly came to drink up;
That, my labour of love being done,
I ascend to my sceptre and throne.

VIII.

Air-" Oh! snatch'd away."

HAIL! glorious morn! propitious birth!

When, bursting from the bands of Earth

And throwing back the gates of Hell,

MESSIAH ROSE-Again to tell,

With more than prophet's power, HIS MATCHLESS worth.

"Tis not a Spirit's subtile form

That courts our anxious, doubting creed;

But living matter, fresh and warm

As that he freely gave to bleed; (b)

Of David's royal line and woman's seed.

I hail the great, the glorious morn,
With hope-fraught, reverential zeal;
For, with the Head, the Members born,
Do all like quick'ning bias feel;

And he who fancies that I dream,

Still floats through life, on Error's stream.

IX.

Air-" My soul is dark."

ALAS! thy soul too sure is dark!

Oh! would some seraph wing his way,

And bring but one ethereal spark,

Amid thine earth-born fires to play;