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 TTTK NKCROPOLIS AT GLASGOW. 101

On the opposite side of the column is the magnifi cent poetry of their own prophets. &quot; There is hope in thine end, saith the Lord, that thy children shall come again unto their own border. How hath the Lord covered the daughter of Zion with a cloud in his anger, and cast down from heaven to the earth the beauty of I-ra 1, and remembered not his footstool in the day of his anger. But though he cause grief, yet will he have compassion according to the multitude of his mercies. For he doth not afflict willingly, nor grieve the chil dren of men.&quot;

��Come o er the Bridge of Sighs, some twilight hour, When dimly gleams the fair Cathedral-tower, And lingering daybeams faintly serve to show The tombstones mouldering round its base below ; Come o er that bridge with me, and musing think What untold pangs have marked this streamlet s brink, What bitter tears distilled from hearts of woe, Since first its arches spanned the flood below. Here hath the mother from her bleeding breast Laid the young darling of her soul to rest ; Here the lorn child resigned the parent stay, To walk, despairing, on its orphan way ; Here the riven heart that fond companion brought By years cemented with its inmost thought ; Here the sad throng in long procession crept, To bear the sage, for whom a nation wept,

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