John - The Fall of Jerusalem: A Poem

Jr. John Church

Published by Good Press, 2019

EAN 4064066150402

Table of Contents

Table of Contents

Approach of the RomansTheir processionOmens of the citys downfallThe Romans songRaising the tentsTitus addresses the armyHymnAn evening sceneDigressionTitus summons a councilHis speechTrajans addressPlacidusHis motive in joining the armyHis adviceTituss returnHis promiseThe officers regale themselvesPlacidus retires to his tentHis wishHis slaves attentionMorningThe army assembledPlacidus approaches to the wallsThe priestHis deathTreachery of the JewsRetreat of PlacidusDiscovery and death of PaulinaPlaciduss justification to his comrades, and woeful end.

Jerusalem ! no more above thy plains
Shall featherd warblers echo forth their strains,
No more around thy lordly turrets fly,
Een now they haste, and skin the lowering sky:
For now, like clouds, the armies shine afar,
And speak the horrors of approaching war;
In phalanx strong they move in firm array,
And burn with ardor for the coming fray;
With double speed towards the town they haste,
Resolvd to die, or yon proud city waste.
Before the army, stately Titus speeds,
Surrounded by a thousand ambling steeds,
Moves like a god, and high above the rest
Superior exalts his golden crest;
His noble courser, of unequalld height,
Rears his broad front, and glories in the weight.
Then come twelve thousand of great Romes allies,
Who view with joy th already conquerd prize;
Without one fear of death, they hail the town,
And see before them plunder and renown;
Their lofty forms, encasd in shining mail,
Their native standards swelling in the gale.
Next, forty thousand pikemen marchd along,
Behindtheir horse, eleven thousand strong.
Destructive engines then came rattling slow,
To hurl the stone, or bend the fatal bow.
And see (as if aspiring to the sky)
The Roman eagles mounted ride on high;
Their golden wings, resplendent in the sun,
Seem but to boast the murders they have done;
(So the great master bird, whose form they bear,
Unconquerd flies, and all devoid of fear,
With iron pinions pounces on his prey,
And bears it bleeding on his homeward way;
Where in full shares he tears the murderd food,
And proudly spreads it to his eager brood;
Then claps his wings, and vaunting of his force,
Full at the sun he drives his headstrong course.)
Then came of trumpeters a spreading row,
Their lofty strains bid evry bosom glow;
While een the coursers feel the welcome sound,
And dance aloft, or paw the dusty ground.
Next Roman squadrons, pressd by squadrons still,
Oerspread the vale, and stretch the distant hill;
Battalion to battalion still succeeds,
Yet others rise, and steeds still follow steeds;
Till, like the corn on which they heedless tread,
In countless numbers oer the plains they spread.
Grand was the view, but to the trembling foe
It shewd but conquest, slavery, and woe.
Jerusalem! thy fatal hour is near,
In vain alike your courage and your fear,
These are the armies long foreseen of old,
And this the end thy prophets eer foretold.

High in the heavns, above the temples spire,
Is seen a two edgd sword of glowing fire:
Dark clouds surround, the sun withdraws his light,
A blazing comet, beautiful and bright,
Rides thro the sky, and oer the fated town
Contrasts the darkness of Jehovahs frown.
And hark! the foe with fearless haste draws nigh,
With martial songs they rend the cloudy sky;
Thus ran the strain, while each, as if by choice,
To aid the song, uplifts his manly voice.

Freedom is the Romans word,
Freedom draws the Romans sword,
Freedom leads him to the fight,
Freedom bids him shun the flight.

Freedom is the Romans boast,
Freedom is the Romans toast,
Freedom tis for which we stand,
Freedom and our native land.

Rome oer all the world shall reign,
Or our bodies strew the plain;
Unto death ourselves we give,
But oar children free shall live.

Nothing shall our arms impede,
Onward spur each foaming steed;
Banish evry thought of love,
And to glory swiftly move.

Lame was the verse, but evry bosom joind,
And lookd on death and victory combind;
They rear their walls, the well-formd camp they fix,
Whilst all the troops together toiling mix.
Full in their view the mantling towers rise,
Well stockd with foes, to guard against surprise;
They see the Romans mow their ripning grain,
Their forests levelld, and their cattle slain.
But now the trumpets sound, the task is done,
The loosend coursers neighing, gaily run;
Again the trumpets soundthe chiefs obey,
The summond army stands in bright array.
Now Titus comesaround each legion hies,
His ready joy stands glistning in his eyes
Aye, this looks well (he cries), it glads my heart
To see each Roman stedfast to his part;
Yon frowning walls, impregnable to view,
Must fall and crumble, if you still are true;
And that great God! whose wondrous work we are,
Can end, at once, our labour and the war.
Though thousands here believe in fabled tales,
All other gods to Him are creeping snails
By his great power formdand at a thrust
He hurls them, moulderd, to their native dust;
Then to His throne alone our vows well pay,
And raise to heavn our grateful ardent lay.
Amidst the noisy din of clanking steel,
The wondring army as by instinct kneel,
And with their leader thus their vows reveal.

Only mighty, good, and great,
Who, enthrond in matchless state,
Now reigns on high,
And thro the sky
Deals with unerring hand thy peace or curse,
Attend our prayr,
Banish our care,
And we will eer thy wondrous deeds rehearse.

God of heaven! God of earth!
Without ending, without birth,
Our victory
Must come from thee,
From thee alone we have our life and breath.
Oh! hear us now,
To thee we bow,
Now give us victory, or give us death.

Pour thine anger on the foe,
Give our armies all to know,
It is by thee
That we are free;
And if we here must end our mortal race,
Permit us then
To die like men,
Oh! save our rising offspring from disgrace.

Tis finishd, (and the sun from out the west
Sheds his bright rays on evry plated breast.)
Still prostrate on the ground, in doubting awe,
Till wakend by the thrilling trump of war:
Then starting up, each draws his eager blade,
And pass before the king in grand parade,
Who, like a god, in burnishd glory stands,
And calmly issues forth his just commands.
Yet still the sun, as joyful at the sight,
Gleams on their mail, and shames the coming night;
Een Titus sees his long protracted stay,
And tells his fortunes by the lingring day.
The troops, their martial exercises oer,
Expend their tales, or sing of days of yore,
Lay by their arms, and, careless of their ends,
Speak of their wives, their babes, or distant friends;
Short-sighted fools!but wherefore should ye learn
That thousands here shall never more return?
Why should a fatal foresight damp our peace,
And all our short-livd miseries increase?
NoProvidence has closd the book of fate,
And sight of future only comes too late: