Young Angelo? Yes? Saidst thou yes? That heart,
That throbbing heart of thine, keeps such a coil,
I cannot hear thy words. He is return'd

To Rome; he left thee on mine errand, dear one.
And now-Is there no casement myrtle-wreath'd,
No cedar in our courts to shade to-night
The lover's song?

Cla. Oh, father! father!

Rien. Now,

Back to thy maidens with a lighten'd heart,
Mine own beloved child. Thou shalt be first
In Rome, as thou art fairest; never princess
Brought to the proud Colonna such a dower
As thou. Young Angelo hath chosen his mate
From out an eagle's nest.

Cla. Alas! alas!

I tremble at the height. Whene'er I think
Of the hot barons, of the fickle people,
And the inconstancy of power, I tremble
For thee, dear father.

Rien.

Tremble! let them tremble:

I am their master, Claudia! whom they scorn'd,
Endured, protected.-Sweet, go dream of love!
I am their master, Claudia!

SONG.

HAIL to the gentle bride! the dove
High nested in the column's crest!
Oh, welcome as the bird of love,

Who bore the olive-sign of rest!

Hail to the gentle bride! the flower
Whose garlands round the column twine!

Oh, fairer than the citron bower,

More fragrant than the blossom'd vine!

Hail to the gentle bride! the star

Whose radiance o'er the column beams!

Oh, soft as moonlight seen afar

A silver shine on trembling streams!

HEBER.

THE PASSAGE OF THE RED SEA.

WITH heat o'erlabour'd and the length of way,
On Ethan's beach the bands of Israel lay.
"T was silence all, the sparkling sands along;
Save where the locust trill'd her feeble song,
Or blended soft in drowsy cadence fell
The wave's low whisper, or the camel's bell.—
'Twas silence all!—the flocks for shelter fly
Where, waving light, the acacia shadows lie;
Or where, from far, the flattering vapours make
The noontide semblance of a misty lake:
While the mute swain, in careless safety spread,
With arms enfolded, and dejected head,
Dreams o'er his wondrous call, his lineage high,
And, late reveal'd, his children's destiny.—
For, not in vain, in thraldom's darkest hour,
Had sped from Amram's sons the word of power;
Nor fail'd the dreadful wand, whose godlike sway
Could lure the locust from her airy way;

With reptile war assail their proud abodes,
And mar the giant pomp of Egypt's gods.
Oh, helpless gods! who nought avail'd to shield
From fiery rain your Zoan's favour'd field!
Oh, helpless gods! who saw the curdled blood
Taint the pure lotus of your ancient flood,
And fourfold night the wondering earth enchain,

While Memnon's orient harp was heard in vain !—
Such musings held the tribes, till now the west
With milder influence on their temples prest;

And that portentous cloud, which all the day.
Hung its dark curtain o'er their weary way,
(A cloud by day, a friendly flame by night,)
Roll'd back its misty veil, and kindled into light!-
Soft fell the eve :-But, ere the day was done,
Tall waving banners streak'd the level sun;

And wide and dark along the horizon red,

In sandy surge the rising desert spread.—
"Mark, Israel, mark!"-On that strange sight intent,
In breathless terror, every eye was bent;
And busy faction's fast-increasing hum,

And female voices shriek, "They come! they come!"
They come, they come, in scintillating show
O'er the dark mass the brazen lances glow;
And sandy clouds in countless shapes combine,
As deepens or extends the long tumultuous line;—
And fancy's keener glance e'en now may trace
The threatening aspects of each mingled race;
For many a coal-black tribe and cany spear,
The hireling guards of Misraim's throne, were there.
From distant Cush they troop'd, a warrior train.
Siwah's green isle and Sennaar's marly plain :
On either wing their fiery coursers check
The parch'd and sinewy sons of Amalek:

While close behind, inured to feast on blood,

Deck'd in Behemoth's spoils, the tall Shangalla strode.

'Mid blazing helms and bucklers rough with gold, Saw ye how swift the scythèd chariots roll'd?

Lo, these are they whom, lords of Afric's fates,

Old Thebes hath pour'd through all her hundred gates,
Mother of armies!-How the emeralds glow'd,

Where, flush'd with power and vengeance, Pharaoh rode!
And stoled in white, those brazen wheels before,
Osiris' ark his swarthy wizards bore;

And, still responsive to the trumpet's cry,

The priestly sistrum murmur'd-Victory!—

Why swell these shouts that rend the desert's gloom?
Whom come ye forth to combat?—warriors, whom?—
These flocks and herds-this faint and weary train-
Red from the scourge and recent from the chain?—
God of the poor, the poor and friendless save!
Giver and Lord of freedom, help the slave !—
North, south, and west, the sandy whirlwinds fly,
The circling horns of Egypt's chivalry.

On earth's last margin throng the weeping train:

Their cloudy guide moves on:-" And must we swim the

main ?"

'Mid the light spray their snorting camels stood,
Nor bathed a fetlock in the nauseous flood-
He comes their leader comes!—the man of God
O'er the wide waters lifts his mighty rod,
And onward treads.-The circling waves retreat,
In hoarse deep murmurs, from his holy feet;
And the chased surges, inly roaring, show
The hard wet sand and coral hills below.