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HEBREW MELODIES.
III.More blest each palm that shades those plains Than Israel's scattered race;For, taking root, it there remains In solitary grace:It cannot quit its place of birth,It will not live in other earth.
IV.But we must wander witheringly, In other lands to die;And where our fathers' ashes be, Our own may never lie:Our temple hath not left a stone,And Mockery sits on Salem's throne.
