These were Jehovah's words: "From an eternity of idleness, God, awoke: in seven days toil made earth From nothing; rested, and created man. I placed him in a paradise, and there Planted the tree of evil, so that he Might eat and perish, and my soul procure Wherewith to sate its malice, and to turn, Even like a heartless conqueror of the earth, All misery to my fame. The race of men, Chosen to my honor, with impunity, May sate the lusts I planted in their heart. Here I command thee hence to lead them on, Until, with hardened feet, their conquering troops Wade on the promised soil through woman's blood, And make my name be dreaded through the land. Yet ever burning flame and ceaseless woe Shall be the doom of their eternal souls, With every soul on this ungrateful earth, Virtuous or vicious, weak or strong,--even all Shall perish, to fulfil the blind revenge Which you, to men, call justice, of their God." The murderer's brow Quivered with horror. God omnipotent! Is there no mercy? must our punishment Be endless? will long ages roll away, And see no 'term? Oh! wherefore hast thou made In mockery and wrath this evil earth? Mercy becomes the powerful--be but just: O God! repent and save. "One way remains! I will beget a son, and he shall bear The sins of all the world: he shall arise In an unnoticed corner of the earth, And there shall die upon a cross, and purge The universal crime; so that the few On whom my grace descends, those who are marked As vessels to the honor of their God, May credit this strange sacrifice, and save Their souls alive. Millions shall live and die Who ne'er shall call upon their Saviour's name, But, unredeemed, go to the gaping, grave. Thousands shall deem it an old woman's tale, Such as the nurses frighten babes withal. These in a gulph of anguish and of flame Shall curse their reprobation endlessly. Yet tenfold pangs shall force them to avow, Even on their beds of torment, where they howl, My honor, and the justice of their doom. What then avail their virtuous deeds, their thoughts Of purity, with radiant genius bright, Or lit with human reason's earthly ray? Many are called, but few I will elect. Do thou my bidding, Moses!" In his poem of "Rosalind and Helen," the poet indulges in the following prophecy, which he puts in the mouth of Helen:-- "Fear not the tyrants shall rule forever, Or the priests of the bloody faith; They stand on the brink of that mighty river, Whose waves they have tainted with death. It is fed from the depths of a thousand dells, Around them it foams, and rages, and swells; And their swords and their sceptres I floating see, Like wrecks on the surge of eternity."