Whilst thou, day by day, wilt thy manna bestow, And give, for my thirst, the Rock-fountain to flow, Refreshed by the way, will I speed to the clime Of rest for the weary, beyond earth and time. THE HEBREW CAPTIVES. Our altars they razed, and our temples profaned! The blood of our prophets and kindred they drained! And us, from our desolate homes did they bear Afar, the cold chains of the Painim to wear. And they, who had carried us captive, drew nigh; They looked on our woes with an insolent eye; Our burdens were heavy, our fetters were strong; And then, they required of us mirth and a song! We hung up our harps on the willows to sleep; By Babylon's rivers we sat down to weep; The song of the Lord, as too holy to sound, We shut in our souls, on that dark heathen ground. We thought of our Zion, and sent her a sigh By each gentle breeze, that went silently by; But poured not the strains in the proud Painim's ear, That God and his angels will hearken to hear! FRAGMENTS FROM "ESTHER," A POEM. The monarch of Persia has wrapped o'er his breast The vesture, whose jewels emblazoned the throne: His lovely young queen, who in sackcloth is dressed, Is far from his presence, and weeping alone. * * * * * And who in behalf of her people shall sue For mercy? To whom will the sovereign give ear? 'T is death now to be, in his kingdom, a Jew-- 'T is death in his presence uncalled to appear. The wife of his bosom that peril will take! The helpless young Jewess, so gentle and fair, To live with her people, or die for their sake, Will go to her lord, and her nation declare. For little he deems that his idolized bride, The joy of his heart--the delight of his eyes, Is born of that race whom the Persians deride-- A people, his nation oppress and despise. There 's wine at the palace, and feasting, and mirth; In Esther's still chamber there 's fasting, and prayer; While he with the crown, has the homage of earth, She calls on her God her doomed people to spare. She thinks of her fathers in Egypt's dark land-- She thinks of the bush, as in Horeb it burned; She knows who the hearts of the kings hath in hand, To turn them, as rivers of water are turned. To him, for support, and for light to her mind, She sends up the cries of her soul from the dust; Then, rising to go to the king, is resigned To do this and perish, if perish she must. * * * * *