But Thou hast said the blood of goat,
The flesh of rams, I will not prize:
A contrite heart, an humble thought,
Are more accepted sacrifice.

WALTER SCOTT.

DESTRUCTION OF THE ASSYRIANS.

1 The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,

And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold;

And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,

When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.

2 Like the leaves of the forest when summer is green,

That host with their banners at sunset were

seen;

Like the leaves of the forest when autumn hath blown,

That host on the morrow lay wither'd and strown.

5 For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,

And breath'd on the face of the foe as he

pass'd,

And the eyes of the sleepers wax'd deadly and chill,

And their hearts but once heav'd, and for ever grew still.

4 And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide,

But through it there roll'd not the breath of his pride;

And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf,

And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf.

5 And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail:

And the tents were all silent, the banners alone,

The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.

6 And the widows of Ashur are loud in their

wail,

And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal;

And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword,

Hath melted like snow in the glance of the
Lord.

HEBREW MELODY.

THE HARP OF JUDAH.

1 Sweet harp of Judah! shall thy sound No more be heard on earthly ground, Nor mortal raise the lay again,

That rung through Judah's sainted reign?

2 No-for to higher worlds belong
The wonders of thy sacred song:

Thy prophet-bards might sweep thy chords,
The glorious burthen was the Lord's.

3 Thy lay, descending from above,

Full fraught with justice, truth, and love;
His spirit breath'd and mingled there
As much of heaven as earth could bear.
4 Kind was its tone-its warning plain;
But rebel Israel scorn'd the strain;
Proud, careless, unabash'd, they trod,
Nor own'd the voice of Zion's God.

5 Then fell at length his vengeful stroke;
The necks that scorn'd to bend he broke;
The shrine his hand had guarded well,
Himself destroy'd-and Zion fell.

6 Final and unretriev'd her fall;

The heathen ploughshare raz'd her wall;
And o'er the race of Judah's kings
Rome's slaught'ring eagle clapp'd her
wings.

7 Yet, harp of Judah! rung thy strain,
And woke thy glories not in vain ;
Yet, though in dust thy frame be hurl'd
Thy spirit rules a wider world.

8 Though faintly swell thy notes sublime,
Far distant-down the stream of time;
Yet, to our ears the sounds are giv'n;
And e'en thy echo tells of heav'n.

9 Thro' worlds remote-the old-the new;
Thro' realms nor Rome nor Israel knew;
The Christian hears-and, by thy tone,
Sweet harp of Judah! tunes his own.

L. E.

"WE WEPT WHEN WE REMEMBERED ZION."

1 Oh! weep for those that wept by Babel's

stream,

Whose shrines are desolate, whose land a dream;

Weep for the harp of Judah's broken shell; Mourn-where their God hath dwelt, the godless dwell.

2 And where shall Israel lave her bleeding
feet?

And where shall Zion's songs again seem
sweet?

And Judah's melody once more rejoice
The hearts that leap'd before its heavenly
voice?

S Tribes of the wand'ring foot and weary
breast,

How shall ye flee away and be at rest?
The wild dove hath her nest, the fox his

1 When Jordan hush'd his waters still,
And silence slept on Zion's hill;

When Bethlehem's shepherds through the
night

Watch'd o'er their flocks by starry light :
2 Hark! from the midnight hills around,
A voice of more than mortal sound,
In distant hallelujahs stole,

Wild murm'ring o'er the raptur'd soul.
3 Then swift to every startled eye,
New streams of glory light the sky;
Heav'n bursts her azure gates to pour
Her spirits to the midnight hour.

4 On wheels of light, on wings of flame,
The glorious hosts of Zion came;

High heav'n with songs of triumph rung,
While thus they struck their harps and
sung:

5 0 Zion! lift thy raptur'd eye,
The long-expected hour is nigh;
The joys of nature rise again,
The Prince of Salem comes to reign.

6 See, Mercy from her golden urn

Pours a rich stream to them that mourn;
Behold, she binds, with tender care,

The bleeding bosom of despair.

7 He comes, to cheer the trembling heart, Bids Satan and his host depart;

E