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(From Ruins of Many Lands)
FEW ruins now those willowy banks disclose, | |
| But fresh as in old days the current flows; | |
| Here lofty reeds and palms shut out the beam, | |
| And there romantic rocks o’erhang the stream. | |
| Rare flowers, man trains not, deck the mossy ground, | 5 |
| And each slight breeze wafts almond-blooms around; | |
| The bee secure along the lilied shore | |
| Winds her blithe horn, and steals her honeyed store; | |
| Blue skies look down on bluer waves; the air | |
| Is soft and fragrant, as some angel there, | 10 |
| Just flown from Paradise, had spread his plume, | |
| Hushing the earth, and shaking round perfume. | |
| Sweet Jordan! surely here sad hearts might rest, | |
| And calm Religion love a scene so blest. | |
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| How famed this lonely tract in sacred lore! | 15 |
| ’T was here the desert prophet roamed of yore; | |
| Far south dark Nebo lifts its hoary head, | |
| Whence Moses viewed the land he could not tread, | |
| Toward Canaan cast his dim-beholding eye, | |
| And blessed the scene before he sank to die. | 20 |
| Here, too, the mighty seer, Elijah came, | |
| And rose to heaven, upborne by steeds of flame. | |
| In yon wild valley mouldered Ammon lowers, | |
| And shattered walls are seen, and fallen towers; | |
| There reigned a king who swayed these palmy plains; | 25 |
| No child of Lot, no subject now remains; | |
| Lone sits the stork in Ammon’s royal halls, | |
| And from her reed-grown courts the bull-frog calls. | |
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