914 ANNUAL REGISTER, 1804. 



Or pant, deep plung'd beneath the sultry mine, 

 For the light gales ot balmy Palestine. 



Ah ! fruitless now no more, — an empty coast. 

 She mourn'd her sons enslav'd, her glories lost : 

 In her wide streets the lonely raven bred ; 

 There bark'd the wolf, and dire hya?nas fed. 

 Yet 'midst her towery fanes, in ruin laid, 

 The pilgrim saint his niurm'ring vespers paid : 

 'Twas his to climb the tiil'tcd rocks, and rove 

 The chcqiier'd twilight of the olive grove ; 

 'Twas his to bend beneath the sacred gloom, 

 And wear with many a kiss Messiah's tomb : 

 While forms celestial fill'd his tranced eye, 

 The day-light dreams of pensive pi<''y, 

 O'er his still breast the tearful fervour stole, 

 And softer sorrows charm'd the mourner's soul. 



Oh ! lives there one A\ho mocks his artless zeal ? 

 Too proud to worship, and too wise to feel : 

 Be his the son! Mifh wint'ry reason blest, 

 The dull, lethargic sovereign of the breast ! 

 Be liis the life that creeps in dead repose, 

 No joy (hat sparkles, and no tear that flows ! 



Far other they who rcar'd yon pompous shrine, 

 And bade the rock with Parian marble shine. 

 Then hallow'd Peace rencw'd her wealthy reign, 

 Then altars smok'd and Sion smil'd again. 

 There sculptnr'd gold and costly gems were seen, 

 And all the bounties of the British queen ; 

 There barbarous kings their sandal'd nations led, 

 And steel-clad champions bow'd the crested head. 

 There, when her fiery race the desert pour'd, 

 And pale Byzantium fear'd Medina's sword, 

 When coward Asia shook in trembling woe, 

 And bent appall'd before the Baftrian bow; 

 From the moist regions of the western star 

 The wandering hermit wak'd the storm of war. 

 Their limbs all iron, and their souls all flame, 

 A countless host, the red-cross warriors came ; 

 E'en hoary priests the sacred combat wage. 

 And clothe in steel the palsied arm of age ; 

 While beardless youths and tender maids assume 

 The weighty morion and the glancing plume. 

 In bashful pride the warrior virgins wield 

 The pond'rous falchion and the sun-like shi&ldj 



And 



