THE MOSQUE, RISING ON THE SITE OF THE TEMPLE.
HIGH on the spot where once the Temple rose,
Still glancing down where pebbly Kedron flows,
Frowns the tall Mosque, with its haughty dome,
O'er looks the spot where now with wail and moan,
The outcast Jews, with sad and mournful state,
Deplore their glorious temple's fallen fate!
Fled thou bright pearl, and shattered now,
The gem that crowned Moriah's brow.
On that site once given by a hand Divine
The heathen Turk, the lowly Christians find!
Great was thy fall when reddening all the sky,
Thy burning walls met the great Roman eye:
In vain they strove to save thy glorious fane,
And now a type of wrath, alas! thy name!
Thou hast sunk down to ashes, and to rust;
And now upon thy glorious honoured dust
Still glancing down where pebbly Kedron flows,
Frowns the tall Mosque, with its haughty dome,
O'er looks the spot where now with wail and moan,
The outcast Jews, with sad and mournful state,
Deplore their glorious temple's fallen fate!
Fled thou bright pearl, and shattered now,
The gem that crowned Moriah's brow.
On that site once given by a hand Divine
The heathen Turk, the lowly Christians find!
Great was thy fall when reddening all the sky,
Thy burning walls met the great Roman eye:
In vain they strove to save thy glorious fane,
And now a type of wrath, alas! thy name!
Thou hast sunk down to ashes, and to rust;
And now upon thy glorious honoured dust
