ON JORDAN'S BANKS.

On Jordan's banks the Arab's camels stray,

On Sion's hill the False One's votaries pray,

The Baal-adorer bows on Sinai's steep —

Yet there — even there — Oh God! thy thunders sleep:

There — where thy finger scorched the tablet stone!

There — where thy shadow to thy people shone!

Thy glory shrouded in its garb of fire:

Thyself — none living see and not expire!

Oh! in the lightning let thy glance appear;

Sweep from his shivered hand the oppressor's spear!

How long by tyrants shall thy land be trod?

How long thy temple worshipless, Oh God?