AND sitt'st thou there, O lost Jerusalem! Bowed down, yet something still of royal state Ennobling thee in ruin? Thee the weight Of age regards not: thou art as the gem Undimmed by time: yet is the diadem, And thrones, that make thee like the common Great, All perished, and thy People desolate; Thy holiness a scoff, thy power a dream! The arm of the Omnipotent is on Thy guiltiness; a living Death art thou; An all - enduring miracle: for God Hath set, in record of His slaughtered Son, His ineffaceable seal upon thy brow; And cursed the land a dying Saviour trod! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VIGNETTES OVERSEAS: 1. OFF GIBRALTAR by SARA TEASDALE THE SPARROW by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR ON PASSING THE NEW MENIN GATE by SIEGFRIED SASSOON QUATRAIN: THE PARCAE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH VAIN EXCUSE by WALTER CONRAD ARENSBERG LETTER TO B.W. PROCTOR, ESQ., FROM OXFORD; MAY, 1825 by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |