NIGHT hung on Salem's towers, And a brooding hush profound Lay where the Roman eagle shone High o'er the tents around -- The tents that rose by thousands, In the moonlight glimmering pale; Like white waves of a frozen sea Filling an Alpine vale. And the Temple's massy shadow Fell broad, and dark, and still, In peace -- as if the Holy One Yet watched His chosen hill. But a fearful sound was heard In that old fane's deepest heart, As if mighty wings rushed by, And a dread voice raised the cry, "@3Let us depart!@1" Within the fated city E'en then fierce discord raved, Though o'er night's heaven the comet sword Its vengeful token waved. There were shouts of kindred warfare Through the dark streets ringing high, Though every sign was full which told Of the bloody vintage nigh; Though the wild red spears and arrows Of many a meteor host Went flashing o'er the holy stars, In the sky now seen, now lost. And that fearful sound was heard In the Temple's deepest heart, As if mighty wings rushed by, And a voice cried mournfully, "@3Let us depart!@1" But within the fated city There was revelry that night -- The wine-cup and the timbrel note, And the blaze of banquet-light. The footsteps of the dancer Went bounding through the hall, And the music of the dulcimer Summoned to festival: While the clash of brother-weapons Made lightning in the air, And the dying at the palace-gates Lay down in their despair; And that fearful sound was heard At the Temple's thrilling heart, As if mighty wings rushed by, And a dread voice raised the cry, "@3Let us depart!@1" |