The Complete Poems of Sir Thomas Moore Part 97

SOUND THE LOUD TIMBREL.

MIRIAM'S SONG.

(AlR.--AVISON.)[1]

"And Miriam, the Prophetess, the sister of Aaron, took a timbrel in her band; and all the women went out after her with timbrels and with dances."

--_Exod_. xv. 20.

Sound the loud Timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea!

JEHOVAH has triumphed--his people are free.

Sing--for the pride of the Tyrant is broken, His chariots, his hors.e.m.e.n, all splendid and brave-- How vain was their boast, for the LORD hath but spoken, And chariots and hors.e.m.e.n are sunk in the wave.

Sound the loud Timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea; JEHOVAH has triumphed--his people are free.

Praise to the Conqueror, praise to the LORD!

His word was our arrow, his breath was our sword-- Who shall return to tell Egypt the story Of those she sent forth in the hour of her pride?

For the LORD hath looked out from his pillar of glory,[2]

And all her brave thousands are dashed in the tide.

Sound the loud Timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea, JEHOVAH has triumphed--his people are free!

[1] I have so much altered the character of this air, which is from the beginning of one of Avison's old-fas.h.i.+oned concertos, that, without this acknowledgment, it could hardly, I think, be recognized.

[2] "And it came to pa.s.s, that, in the morning watch the LORD looked unto the host of the Egyptians, through the pillar of fire and of the cloud, and troubled the host of the Egyptians."--_Exod_. xiv. 24.

GO, LET ME WEEP.

(AIR.--STEVENSON.)

Go, let me weep--there's bliss in tears, When he who sheds them inly feels Some lingering stain of early years Effaced by every drop that steals.

The fruitless showers of worldly woe Fall dark to earth and never rise; While tears that from repentance flow, In bright exhalement reach the skies.

Go, let me weep.

Leave me to sigh o'er hours that flew More idly than the summer's wind, And, while they past, a fragrance threw, But left no trace of sweets behind.-- The warmest sigh that pleasure heaves Is cold, is faint to those that swell The heart where pure repentance grieves O'er hours of pleasure, loved too well.

Leave me to sigh.

COME NOT, OH LORD.

(AIR.--HAYDN.)

Come not, oh LORD, in the dread robe of splendor Thou worest on the Mount, in the day of thine ire; Come veiled in those shadows, deep, awful, but tender, Which Mercy flings over thy features of fire!

LORD, thou rememberest the night, when thy Nation[1]

Stood fronting her Foe by the red-rolling stream; O'er Egypt thy pillar shed dark desolation, While Israel basked all the night in its beam.

So, when the dread clouds of anger enfold Thee, From us, in thy mercy, the dark side remove; While shrouded in terrors the guilty behold Thee, Oh, turn upon us the mild light of thy Love!

[1] "And it came between the camp of the Egyptians and the camp of Israel; and it was a cloud and darkness to them, but it gave light by night to these"--_Exod_. xiv. 20.

WERE NOT THE SINFUL MARY'S TEARS.

(AIR.--STEVENSON.)

Were not the sinful Mary's tears An offering worthy Heaven, When, o'er the faults of former years, She wept--and was forgiven?

When, bringing every balmy sweet Her day of luxury stored, She o'er her Saviour's hallowed feet The precious odors poured;-- And wiped them with that golden hair, Where once the diamond shone; Tho' now those gems of grief were there Which s.h.i.+ne for G.o.d alone!

Were not those sweets, so humbly shed-- That hair--those weeping eyes-- And the sunk heart, that inly bled-- Heaven's n.o.blest sacrifice?

Thou that hast slept in error's sleep, Oh, would'st thou wake in Heaven, Like Mary kneel, like Mary weep, "Love much" and be forgiven![1]

[1] "Her sins, which are many, are forgiven; for she loved much."--St.

Luke, vii.47.

AS DOWN IN THE SUNLESS RETREATS.

(AIR.--HAYDN.)