Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 3.djvu/435

Rh For he who soars alone above,

And leaves my soul unworthy saving.

III.

She's gone, who shared my diadem;

She sunk, with her my joys entombing;

I swept that flower from Judah's stem,

Whose leaves for me alone were blooming;

And mine's the guilt, and mine the hell,

This bosom's desolation dooming;

And I have earned those tortures well,

Which unconsumed are still consuming! Jan. 15, 1815.

ON THE DAY OF THE DESTRUCTION OF JERUSALEM BY TITUS.

I.

the last hill that looks on thy once holy dome,

I beheld thee, oh Sion! when rendered to Rome:

'Twas thy last sun went down, and the flames of thy fall

Flashed back on the last glance I gave to thy wall.

II.

I looked for thy temple—I looked for my home,

And forgot for a moment my bondage to come;

I beheld but the death-fire that fed on thy fane,

And the fast-fettered hands that made vengeance in vain.