ved on earth!
Fly! and I placed her on the horse with me--
Leaving behind the sounds and sights of death--
The shrieks of massacre, the crash of towers
Falling, the heavy sound of battering-rams:
We passed the victims, blackening in the sun, 440
And some, yet breathing, on the crucifix.[162]
On, through the valley of Jehoshaphat,
I spurred my horse; we passed the sepulchre
Of Lazarus, restored from the dark grave,
So those who own the faith of Christ affirm,
With eye-balls ghastly glaring in the light,
At the loud voice of Him who cried, Come forth!
We held our eastern way from Bethany,
Till now we reached the "Plain of Blood."[163] I paused
A moment, ere we entered that sad plain. 450
Ah! there are tents upon the southern edge
Of the horizon! Fly! it is the camp
Of Arabs: see! with long and couched spears,
A troop is flying o'er the sands! We hear
Their cries--this way they rush--this way--
Fly! fly! and instant, as an arrow speeds,
(My pale companion breathless, and scarce held)
We bounded o'er the desert, till the track 458
Was lost. The voices died away: she sank
Faint in my arms, and with her head declined
Upon my breastplate. We will rest a while;
For she was now so feeble, it behoved
Thus oft to rest, if haply she might feel
Some cool reviving airs breathe on her face,
Gently; a few dry dates were all our food.
We gazed in silence on the sun, that, red,
Was sinking now beyond the lonely sands,
And hurriedly again renewed our flight.
The track is lost! Fear not--those are the bones,
Not of a murdered traveller. Look out! 470
Is that a cloud? or seest thou not the smoke
Of some lone cottage on the hills? List! list!
Is it the tinkle of some rivulet,
Wandering in solitude? On, on, my steed!
We reached the hills, and, looking back, beheld
The western cope of heaven, as night came down,
All fiery red. It was the light, far off,
Of the proud Temple flaming! Through the night
We held our toiling way, when, at gray dawn,
We saw, beneath us, palms, and city walls, 480
And Jordan, slowly flowing to the south.
Yes! these are palms and walls of Jericho;
But all was silent and forsaken. War
Had blown his trump; and Pity, at the blast,
Had knelt in te
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