On Jordan's Banks

ON Jordan’s banks the Arab’s camels stray,

On Sion’s hill the False One’s votaries pray,

The Baal-adorer bows on Sinai’s steep;

Yet there, even there, O God! thy thunders sleep:

There, where thy finger scorched the tablet stone;

There, where thy shadow to thy people shone!

Thy glory shrouded in its garb of fire:

Thyself none living see, and not expire!

O, in the lightning let thy glance appear;

Sweep from his shivered hand the oppressor’s spear:

How long by tyrants shall thy land be trod!

How long thy temple worshipless, O God!