A cry was heard in Rama!--and so wild-- 'Twas Rachel weeping for her murder'd child:-- She would not be consoled--her youngest pride Was torn in terror from her sheltering side; At one dread blow her infant joy was gone To glut the rage of Herod's heart of stone; What drave the tyrant in his wrathful mood, To bathe her lovely innocents in blood? Why stoop'd the savage from his kingly throne, To fill Judea with a mother's moan?-- Weak wretch! he idly sought in his alarm, To stay the purpose of Jehovah's arm; The creature, crawling on his kindred dust, Would stay the bolt, descending on his lust; The crafty counsel of his finite mind Would thwart the God, who rides upon the wind; Yea, "rides upon a Cherub," and doth fly, Scatt'ring his lightnings through the lurid sky. Vain hope! the purpose of his heart, foreknown, Ere yet the falcon swoops, the prey is flown; On Egypt's all unconscious breast is laid Another babe, like him whom erst the maid Daughter of Pharaoh on the wave espied In bark of bulrush, floating o'er the tide Where 'twas her wont her virgin limbs to lave, And snatched in pity from a watery grave; True to the chord that wakes in woman's heart, True to the pulse which bids her promptly start To shield defenceless childhood in her arms, And hush the plaining of its young alarms. Infant adored! I dare not here essay To paint the lustre of thy glorious way:-- Let earth attend, while holy tongue recount Thy hallow'd lessons from the Olive Mount, While Heaven proclaims its messenger of love On Jordan's banks descending as a dove, While grateful multitudes in plaudits vie, And Zion shouts hosannah to the High! O'er famed Gethsemane, I must not tread. Sad o'er its memory let tears be shed; From bloody Calvary, the soul recoils From impious murderers, sharing in thy spoils; From thy dread agony, and bosom wrung, A world in awful darkness, sably hung, When earth was shook, the vail was rent in twain And yawning graves gave forth their dead again. From theme too great, too sad, I turn away, From strain too lofty for a feeble lay-- They sought to quench in blood thy hallow'd light, To stay, the foolish ones! thy stayless flight; They did indeed thy breast of meekness wring, Which would have gathered them beneath its wing; Infuriate Jacob trampled on thy cross, Thy loved ones mourned in bitterness, thy loss, When suddenly is heard the earthquake shock, The sepulchre repels its closing rock, The grave is tenantless!--the body gone, The trembling guards in speechless terror thrown; Th' attending angel comes with lightning brow And raiment whiter than the dazzling snow, Comes to attest with his eternal breath, Our God triumphant over sin and death.