18

A HEBREW MELODY.

Sad Gethsemane the bower of baleful night. Where Christ a health of poison for us drew, Yet all our honey in that poison grew:

So we from sweetest flower could suck our bane,

And Christ from bitter venom could again Extract life out of death, and pleasure out of pain, GILES FLETCHER.

A HEBREW MELODY.

ON Carmel's brow the wreathy vine,

Had all its honours shed;

And o'er the vales of Palestine,

A sickly paleness spread

When the old seer, by vision led,

And energy sublime,

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Into that shadowy region sped, To muse on distant time.

He saw the valleys far and wide, But sight of joy was none;

He looked o'er many a mountain's side, But silence reigned alone;

Save that a boding voice sung on By wave and waterfall,

As still, in harsh and heavy tone, Deep unto deep did call.