Hebrew Melody

(Jeremiah x: 17.)

FROM the hall of our fathers in anguish we fled,

Nor again will its marble re-echo our tread,

For the breath of the Siroc has blasted our name,

And the frown of Jehovah has crushed us in shame.

His robe was the whirlwind, his voice was the thunder,

And earth, at his footstep, was riven asunder;

The mantle of midnight had shrouded the sky,

For we knew, where He stood by the flash of His eye.

O Judah! how long must thy weary ones weep,

Far, far from the land where their forefathers sleep?

How long ere the glory that brightened the mountain

Will welcome the exile to Siloa’s fountain?