Page:The Domestic Affections, and Other Poems.pdf/78



O'er ev'ry nation, ev'ry land, I see destruction wave his hand; How dark thy billows, ocean-flood! Lo! man has dy'd thy waves in blood! Nature! how chang'd thy vivid grace! Vengeance and war thy charms deface. Oh! scene of doubt, of care, of anguish! Oh! scene, where virtue's doom'd to languish! Oh! scene, where death triumphant rides, The spear, the sword, the javelin guides! And canst thou be that earth, declare, That earth so pure, so good, so fair, O'er which, a new-created globe, Thy Father spread Perfection's robe? Oh, Heav'n, how chang'd, how pale, how dim! Since first arose the choral hymn, That hail'd, at thy auspicious birth, A dawning Paradise on earth! On that sublime, creative morn, That saw the infant-planet born,