Black as the storm and fearful as the night:

Thy fall, oh Babylon!—the awful doom

Pronounced by Heaven to hurl thee to the tomb,

Peals in prophetic thunder in mine ear—

The voice of God foretelling ruin near!

Hark! what strange murmurs from the hills arise,

Like rushing torrents from the bursting skies!

Loud as the billows of the restless tide,

In strange confusion flowing far and wide,

[Pg 66]

Ring the deep tones of horror and dismay,

The shriek—the shout—the battle's stern array—

The gathering cry of nations from afar—

The tramp of steeds—the tumult of the war—

Burst on mine ear, and o'er thy fated towers

Hovers despair, and fierce destruction lowers;

Within the fire—without the vengeful sword;

Who leads those hosts against thee but the Lord?

Proud queen of nations! where is now thy trust?—

Thy crown is ashes and thy throne the dust.

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