XII.

Air-" It is the hour."

THERE is an hour! when all must yield
Before the sweeping scythe of Time;
Whether on carnage cover'd field

They stand, in vig'rous manhood's prime;

Or feeble limbs and hoary age,

Attain to life's last closing page.

What! to the first, the verdant green,

That on the victor's brow is seen?

Or, to the last, that flowers blown,

Are but the future flowers sown?
That leaves are sear, and blue the wave,

And stars are set in heav'n's concave,

If they, as twilight, fade away,

But dawn not for ETERNAL DAY?

XIII.

Air-" Warriors and Chiefs."

"PRINCES and Statesmen! our counsel's betray'd! "Israel's forewarn'd, where our ambush is laid! "Show me the traitor! His best blood shall pay,

Gurgling in streams, for the shame of this day."

Round looked Benhadad-No pale cheeks reveal Breasts where a false heart may slink to conceal.— One, in the presence, who secrets could scan, Brief answer'd-" Oh! King! Elisha's the man!

"Dothan his dwelling!"-" Send thither a host!— "Bring him! ere morning yon mountain has cross'd. "Tied to four cedars, his rent limbs shall sate(e) "Hadad's deep vengeance on those he dares hate."

Spearmen are there, and the war horses neigh;
Chariots of steel their rude battle display;
Helmets are nodding, and bucklers appear;

Forward! the warrior poises his spear.

Where are they going, in battle array,

Winding along the green valley's lone way?

"Fly thee now, Prophet! Oh, fly thee! in fear; "See! where Assyria's heroes appear.

Fly thee! now, master! the swift coming host"Haste thee! Oh, haste! or thy life will be lost!" "Peace faithful servant! this light, on thine eye, "Shows thee, at once! our defenders are nigh. (f)

Mark! at the foot of the mountain they lay-
Why does the charger turn wildly away?
Why are the war-cars drawn swift 'o'er the plain?
Why do the Syrians all lifeless remain?

God had appointed them death for their hireGuards, as each pass, in their chariots of fire. These are the legions whose marshalling pow'r, Shields the redeem'd, in the perilous hour.

XIV.

EZEKIEL'S VISION OF THE DRY BONES.

Air" Thou whose spell."

THOU! WHOSE POW'R CAN RAISE THE DEAD,

Tho' these bones be very dry,

Canst creative influence shed,

Make them each to other fly.

Earth shook! a hollow rattling sound arose,
As willing joints and answering sockets close;
Athletic tendons on the white bones lay,

And branching art'ries through the bodies stray;
The flesh came on— -its wond'rous texture spread-

And 'neath the skin the mazy vein was led;

Small, nervous chords proceeded from the brain, To move the limbs or guide the muscle train: But yet the lungs heav'd not-No rising breath Propell'd the heart-The whole lay still in death.

I look'd around me, wondering

What God would to these dead-
I felt the four winds, thundering
Their rough blasts about my head.

Prophesy, Oh! son of Man!
Breathe upon this fallen clan;

Bid them rise, and bid them live;
Sins and treachery I forgive.

Not for their sakes mercy's shown,
But to make my glory known.
I, their graves, will open wide;
I, their devious wand'rings, guide;
They shall know that I, the Lord!
Cannot break my cov'nant word:
Tho' mine anger, once, did burn;
I, in mercy, must return.