Gamaliel sat at evening on his roof And deeply mused the meaning of the law. The holy city round about him lay Magnificent, encircled with her hills. Beyond the torrent Kedron, sunken deep Within his winding valley, Olivet Leaned long his shaded ridge against the east, Distinct in every olive to the sun. Nearer, amid the city, chief to see, The glory of the temple of the Lord! The seat was noble for a noble pile: The summit of Moriah, levelled large, Spread larger yet, outbuilt on masonry Cyclopean, or more huge, pillar and arch Fast-founded like the basis of a world. A world of architecture rested there-- Temple, and court, and long-drawn colonnade On terrace above terrace ranged around, Cloister, and porch, and pendent gallery, Height, depth, length, space, and splendor, without end, Glittering its stones of lustre purest white, And stately portals rich with gems and gold: The setting sun now smote it that it blazed. The sight was torment to Gamaliel's pride, Torment with pleasure mixed, but torment more, As there he sat upon his roof alone. Tall, and erect in port, unbent his form With all that weight of venerable years, His head with almond-blossom glory-crowned, And bosom overstreamed with silver beard, Gamaliel stood before his countrymen Their stay, their solace, and their ornament, One upright pillar in a fallen state. Fallen, for Rome had pushed her foaming wave Of conquest far into the East, and laid Judæa under deluge, quiet now, But deep, of domination absolute-- A weight as of the sea upon her breast. Jerusalem was glorious to behold, Girdled with guardian mountains round about, And sunlit with her temple in the midst. Alas, but more her glory, more her shame! For all her glory was the Roman's now, The queen a vassal at a tyrant's feet, She Cæsar serving who should serve but God. And, worse disgrace than heathen servitude, There recreant Jews were found, and more and more, Who their hearts sold to their captivity, And abjectly gave up the ancient hope And promise, dawning-star of prophecy, That yet to captive Israel should arise Messiah, King of kings and Lord of lords, To break the yoke from off His people's neck And gift them with the empire of the earth-- This crown of Israel's hope gave up, to choose, Instead, for captain and deliverer, one Base-born, from Galilee, consorting friend With publicans and sinners, hung at last Convicted malefactor on the cross!