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those immoral practices, which have been suffered to acquire so dreadful an ascendancy: let us determine, with unalterable resolution, to adhere to that holy religion, which is given us as the rule of our faith and conduct, and as the unerring standard of our principles. Let us, by means of education, render that religion an object of early veneration and attachment, and by thus establishing its empire in the youthful heart, secure its influence in society then may we hope that this night of blackness, and tempest, and horror, will be followed by a bright and glorious day; then may we hope, not merely to be preserved ourselves, but, by setting an example of reformation, to become the means of rescuing from impending destruction the whole civilized world; the preservation of which depends in all appearance on the triumphs of this country over vice, revolution and anarchy."

We have thus endeavoured to furnish our readers with a rapid sketch of the pamphlet, which we have read with no small degree of care. Would our limits permit us, we should have been glad to offer a few specimens of the honest zeal and pure intentions of the writer, not less. than of the frequent justness of his remarks, the liveliness of his style, and vigour of his imagination.

(To be Continued.)

POETRY.

POETRY.

TO THE EDITORS OF THE ORTHODOX CHURCHMAN'S

GENTLEMEN,

MAGAZINE.

I

Am happy in being able to send you a copy of the prize poem delivered with unexampled applause by Mr. Heber, of Brazennose College, Oxford, in the theatre last June. Wishing every success to your valuable magazine,

I am, Gentlemen,
Your constant reader,

Y. R. S.

PALESTINE.

Synopsis.---Lamentation over the miseries of Palestine,---The guardian angels of the land invoked.---Subject proposed.---Present appearance of the country, with its present inhabitants, geographically described, beginning from the north.---The Druses, from their situation and importance, first noticed ---contrast between the inhabitants of the mountains und plains.--Saracens and Bedouins (Nebaioth and Kedar.)---Modern Jews ---Their degraded state of banishment---appeal to the Almighty in their behalf---founded upon his miraculous interpositions of old---their former greatness.---David.---Solomon---his splendour---popular superstitions respecting him---improved state of the arts among the Jews---their temple---firmness of the Jews under misfortunes---derived principally from the hope of the Messiah---his advent---miracles---crucifixion---conséquent punishment of the Jews, in the destruction of Jerusalem by the Romans, and total desolation of the country.---Scenes of Christ's sufferings, however, continued to be venerated.---Pilgrimages.--Holy sepulchre.---Empress Helena.---Crusades---Nations which embarked in them described---English heroism---Edward the First---Richard Cœur de Lion.---Palestine still the scene of British calour.---Acre.---Conclusion.

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'REFT of thy sons, amid thy foes forlorn,
Mourn, widow'd queen, forgotten Sion, mourn!
Is this thy place, sad city, this thy throne,
Where the wild desert rears its craggy stone?
While suns unblest their angry lustre fling,
Aad way-worn pilgrims seek the scanty spring?
Where now thy pomp, which kings with envy view'd?
Where now thy might, which all those kings subdu’d?
No martial myriads muster in thy gate;

No suppliant nations in thy temple wait;

No prophet bards, thy glitt'ring courts among,
Wake the full lyre, and swell the tide of song:
But lawless might, and meagre want are there,
And the quick darting eye of restless fear,
While cold oblivion 'inid thy ruins laid,
Folds his dark wing beneath the ivy shade.

Ye guardian saints! ye warrior sons of Heav'n,
To whose high care Judea's state was giv'n!
O wont of old your mighty watch to keep,
.A host of gods, on Sion's towery steep!
If e'er your secret footsteps linger still
By Siloa's fount, or Tabor's echoing hill,
If e'er your songs on Salem's glories dwell,
And mourn the captive land you lov'd so well;
(For oft 'tis said in Kedron's palmy vale
Mysterious harpings swell the midnight gale,
And blest as balmy dews that Hermon cheer,
Melt in soft cadence on the pilgrim's car :)
Forgive, blest spirits, if a theme so high
Mock the weak notes of mortal minstrelsy!
Yet might your aid this anxious breast inspire
With one faint spark of Milton's seraph fire,
Then should my muse ascend with bolder flight,
And wave her eagle wing exulting in the light.

O happy once in Heaven's peculiar love,
Delight of men below and gods above!

The

Tho' Salem! now, the spoiler's ruffian hand

Has loos'd his hell-hounds o'er thy wasted land;
Tho' weak, and whelm'd beneath the storms of fate,
Thy house is left unto thee desolate:

Tho' thy proud stones in cumb'rous ruin fall,
And seas of sand o'ertop thy mould'ring wall,
Yet shall thy muse to Fancy's ardent view,
Each shadowy trace of faded pomp renew:
And as the Seer on Pisgah's topmost brow
With glistening eye beheld the plain below,
With prescient ardour drank the scented gale,
And bade the op'ning glades of Canaan hail;
Her eagle eye shall scan the prospect wide
From Carmel's cliffs to Almotana's tide;
The flinty waste, the cedar tufted hill,
The liquid health of smooth Ardene's rill,

The grot, where, by the watch fires evʼning blaze,
The robber riots, or the hermit prays:

Or when the tempest rives the hoary stone,

The wintry top of giant Lebanon.

Fierce, hardy, proud, in conscious freedom bold
Those stormy seats the warrior Druses hold;
From Norman blood their lofty line they trace,
Their lion courage proves their generous race;
They, only they, while all around them kneel
In sullen homage to the Thracian steel,

Teach their pale despot's waning Moon to fear
The patient terrors of the mountain spear.
Yes, valorous chiefs, while yet your sabres shine,
The native guard of feeble Palestine,

O ever thus, by no vain boast dismay'd,
Defend the birth-right of the cedar shade!
What tho' no more for you the conscious gale
Swells the white bosom of the Tyrian sail;
Though now no more your glitt'ring marts unfold
Sidonian dyes and Lusitanian gold:

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Tho

Tho' not for you the pale and sickly slave
Forgets the light in Ophir's wealthy cave;
Yet your's the lot in proud contentment blest,
Where chearful labour leads to tranquil rest.
No robber rage the rip'ning harvest knows;
And unrestrain'd the generous vintage flows:
Nor less your sons to manliest deeds aspire,
And Asia's mountains glow with Spartan fire.
So when deep sinking in the rosy main
The western sun forsakes the Syrian plain,
His wat'ry rays reflected lustre shed
And pour their latest lights on Carmel's head.

Yet shines your praise amid surrounding gloomi
As the lone lamp that trembles in the tomb:
For few the souls that spurn a tyrant's chain,
And small the bounds of freedom's scanty reign.
As the poor outcast on the cheerless wild,
Arabia's parent, clasp'd her fainting child,
And wander'd near the roof no more her home,
Forbid to linger, yet afraid to roam:

My sorrowing fancy quits the happier height,
And southward throws her half averted sight.
For sad the scenes Judea's plains disclose
A dreary waste of undistinguish'd woes.
See war untir'd his crimson pinions spread,
And foul revenge that tramples on the dead!
Lo! where from far the guarded fountains shine,
Thy tents, Nebaioth, rise, and Kedar, thine!
'Tis your's the boast, to mark the stranger's way,
And spurn your headlong chargers on the prey,
Or rouse your mighty numbers from afar,
And on the hamlet pour the waste of war;
Nor spare the hoary head, nor bid your eye
Revere the sacred smile of infancy.

Such now the clans whose fiery coursers feed

Where waves on Kishon's bank the whispering reed;

And

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