CEASE, Christian, cease the word of scorn, On Israel's name, on Judah's race; Though lowly, humbled and forlorn, He hath no home, no resting place; Deem not the Hebrew's soul so dead, So abject, that he cannot know, Musing o'er Salem's glory fled, The tear of shame, the pang of woe. When by the streams of Babylon Our captive exiled fathers sate, On high their tuneless harps were hung, They could not sing—disconsolate They mourned their lost Jerusalem, Her hallowed scenes of loveliness; Their children too can weep with them— They cannot sing for heaviness. O! think upon the severed wave, Obedient to the Prophet's word; On that dread law Jehovah gave, When Sinai trembled with the Lord. Forget not those, our favored sires, Led through the desert, bondage free, By noonday cloud, and midnight fires, Their guardian guide the Deity. Boast ye of power, of glory won By England's warrior chivalry? Think, think, of what our sires have done, Of Gideon, David, Maccabee, When Judah trod his lofty way, Proud, fierce, and free; who then might dare, Low crouching on his prostrate prey, Rouse the young lion from his lair? Vaunt ye of Britain rich and great? Her beauties do ye fondly tell? Such once was Zion's palmy state, Fair were thy tents, O Israel! Her merchants were the chiefs of earth, Their vessels thronged the Eastern sea; And Salem gloried in the worth Of Ophir, Indus, Araby. Though changed, alas! not hers the doom, Thus ever hopelessly to pine; Our father's pitying God shall come, And rear his loved, though wasted, vine,— Were this a fond and idle dream, Our Prophet's sacred word were vain, Jerusalem! Jerusalem! The Beautiful, shall rise again. Virgin of Israel! yet once more Encircled by the choral throng, Thou shalt lead forth the dance, and pour To tabret note the merry song:— Once more, once more, exultingly, From holy Ephraim's mountainward, Shall Jacob hear the watchman's cry, "Arise, and let us seek the lord!" Daughter of Zion! raise the voice! Clap the glad hand! beloved, forgiven, The fainting spirit shall rejoice, Refreshed, once more, by dews from heaven. The land that held the iron rod Shall wield the shepherd's crook, and prove (Hear it, ye Isles)—that Israel's God Hath loved her with a father's love! Cease, Christian, cease the word of shame On Judah's race—on Israel's name. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPISTLE TO JOHN LAPRAIK, AN OLD SCOTTISH BARD by ROBERT BURNS THE CHOIR INVISIBLE by MARY ANN EVANS THE SUGAR-PLUM TREE by EUGENE FIELD THE SHADOW ON THE STONE by THOMAS HARDY A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 4. REVEILLE by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN ON THE BUILDING OF SPRINGFIELD by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 30. CHRIST AND WOMAN by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |