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Had showered around all treasures that expand Beneath the burning east;—all gems that pour The sunbeams back;—all sweets of many a land, Whose gales waft incense from their spicy shore; —But mortal pride looked on, and still demanded more.

With richer zest the banquet may be fraught, A loftier theme may swell the exulting strain! The Lord of nations spoke,—and forth were brought The spoils of Salem's devastated fane: Thrice holy vessels!—pure from earthly stain, And set apart, and sanctified to Him, Who deigned within the oracle to reign, Revealed, yet shadowed; making noon-day dim, To that most glorious cloud between the cherubim.

They came, and louder pealed the voice of song, And pride flashed brighter from the kindling eye, And He who sleeps not heard the elated throng, In mirth that plays with thunderbolts, defy