XLVI

Harp! could'st thou venture, on thy boldest string,

The faintest note to echo which the blast

Caught from the hand of Moses as it pass'd

O'er Sinai's top, or from the Shepherd-king,

Early awake, by Siloa's brook, to sing

Of dread Jehovah; then, should wood and waste

Hear also of that name, and mercy cast

Off to the mountains, like a covering

Of which the Lord was weary. Weep, oh! weep,

Weep with the good,beholding King and Priest

Despised by that stern God to whom they raise

Their suppliant hands; but holy is the feast

He keepeth; like the firmament his ways:

His statutes like the chambers of the deep.