[From _Maccabees_, book ii. chapter 3, verse 21. “Then it would have pitied a man to see the falling down of the multitude of all sorts, and the fear of the high priest, being in such an agony.--22. They then called upon the Almighty Lord to keep the things committed of trust safe and sure, for those that had committed them.--23. Nevertheless Heliodorus executed that which was decreed.--24. Now as he was there present himself, with his guard about the treasury, the Lord of Spirits, and the Prince of all Power, caused a great apparition, so that all that presumed to come in with him were astonished at the power of God, and fainted, and were sore afraid.--25. For there appeared unto them a horse with a terrible rider upon him, and adorned with a very fair covering; and he ran fiercely, and smote at Heliodorus with his fore-feet, and it seemed that he that sat upon the horse had complete harness of gold.--26. Moreover, two other young men appeared before him, notable in strength, excellent in beauty, and comely in apparel, who stood by him on either side, and scourged him continually, and gave him many sore stripes.--27. And Heliodorus fell suddenly to the ground, and was compassed with great darkness; but they that were with him took him up, and put him into a litter.--28. Thus him that lately came with great train, and with all his guard into the said treasury, they carried out, being unable to help himself with his weapons, and manifestly they acknowledged the power of God.--29. For he by the hand of God was cast down, and lay speechless without all hope of life.”] A sound of woe in Salem! mournful cries Rose from her dwellings--youthful cheeks were pale, Tears flowing fast from dim and aged eyes, And voices mingling in tumultuous wail; Hands raised to heaven in agony of prayer, And powerless wrath, and terror, and despair. Thy daughters, Judah! weeping, laid aside The regal splendour of their fair array, With the rude sackcloth girt their beauty’s pride, And throng’d the streets in hurrying, wild dismay; While knelt thy priests before His awful shrine Who made of old renown and empire thine. But on the spoiler moves! The temple’s gate, The bright, the beautiful, his guards unfold; And all the scene reveals its solemn state, Its courts and pillars, rich with sculptured gold; And man with eye unhallow’d views th’ abode, The sever’d spot, the dwelling-place of God. Where art thou, Mighty Presence! that of yore Wert wont between the cherubim to rest, Veil’d in a cloud of glory, shadowing o’er Thy sanctuary the chosen and the blest? Thou! that didst make fair Sion’s ark thy throne, And call the oracle’s recess thine own!