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The dripping cloud, to wield the lightning's dart,

And soon, from death escaping, was to


On car of flame up to the throne of God,

Long, long, with labouring breast, and lifted eyes,

Solicited in anguish. On the dead Once more the prophet gazed. A rigor seemed

To settle on those features, and the hand,

In its immovable coldness, told how firm Was the dire grasp of the insatiate grave.

The awful seer laid down his humbled lip

Low to the earth, and his whole being seemed

With concentrated agony to pour Forth in one agonizing, voiceless strife Of intercession. Who shall dare to set Limits to prayer, if it hath entered heaven,

And won a spirit down to its dense robe

Of earth again?

Look! look upon the boy! There was a trembling of the parted lip, A sob-a shiver-from the half-sealed eye

A flash like morning-and the soul came back

To its frail tenement.

The prophet raised The renovated child, and on that breast Which gave the life-stream of its infancy

Laid the fair head once more.

If ye would know Aught of that wildering trance of ecstasy,

Go ask a mother's heart, but question


So poor a thing as language. Yet the soul

Of her of Zarephath, in that blest hour, Believed, and with the kindling glow of faith

Turned from vain idols to the living


ELIJAH ON MOUNT CARMEL. (I. Kings, xviii.)

THREE times has Nisan failed to bring
The longed-for latter rain,
To Carmel's drooping olive leaves
And Sharon's waiting plain.

The breeze from Lebanon stirs not
Esdraelon's withered grain;
The trembling aloes wait to hear
The Kedron's voice in vain.

On Bether's mountains of perfume The stately roebuck falls;

On Bethlehem's bare pasture lands In vain the shepherd calls.

And white the pallid famine came To homes of rich and poor; And laid its heavy hand at last

On Ahab's palace door.

And after it, with fearless step,
And eye of kindly flame,
From wilds of Jordan, sought for long,
The regal Tishbite came!

"Art come, that troublest Israel?"
The haughty tyrant said,
"Nay, all her dire misfortunes rest
Upon thy guilty head!"

"Lo! on the hills the groves accursed,
Where Baal's altars stand;
The worship of thy father's God
Forgotten in the land!

"Now gather on Mount Carmel, king, The priests of thy desire;

Let him be God who answereth
The prayer for heavenly fire!"

They crowd thy sacred solitudes,
O mount of sea and land!
At Baal's altars long in vain,

Praying, his legions stand.

The blighted land lay dark beneath,
The sea swept silent by;
There came no voice, or flame of fire,
From land, or sea, or sky!

But at the ninth, the sacred hourSacred in earth and heaven

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Within a cavern, till the cool of day. "What dost thou here, Elijah?"-Like the tide,

Brake that deep voice through silence. He replied,

"I have been very jealous for thy cause, Lord God of hosts! for men make void

thy laws;

Thy people have thrown down thine altars, slain

Thy prophets,-I, and I alone remain; My life with reckless vengeance they


And what can I against a nation do?"

"Stand on the mount before the Lord, and know,

That wrath or mercy at my will I show." Anon the power that holds the winds let fly

Their devastating armies through the sky;

Then shook the wilderness, the rocks were rent,

As when JEHOVAH bow'd the firmament,

And trembling Israel, while he gave the law,

Beheld his symbols, but no image saw. The storm retired, nor left a trace behind;

The Lord passed by; He came not with the wind.

Beneath the prophet's feet, the shuddering ground

Clave, and disclosed a precipice profound,

Like that which opened to the gates of hell,

When Korah, Dathan, and Abiram fell; Again the Lord passed by, but unre

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He wrapt his mantle round his face with fear;

Darkness that might be felt involved him,-dumb

With expectation of a voice to come, He stood upon the threshold of the cave, As one long dead, just risen from the grave,

In the last judgment.—Came the voice and cried,

"What dost thou here, Elijah?”—He replied,

"I have been very jealous for thy cause, Lord God of hosts! for men make void thy laws;

Thy people have thrown down thine altars, slain

Thy prophets,-I and I alone remain; My life with ruthless violence they pur

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Seven thousand souls who never bowed the knee

To Baal's image, nor have kissed his shrine;

These are my jewels, and they shall be mine,

When to the world my righteousness is shown,

And, root and branch, idolatry o'erthrown.

So be it, God of truth! yet why delay? With Thee a thousand years are as one day;

O crown thy people's hopes, dispel their fears!

And be to-day with Thee a thousand years!

Cut short the evil, bring the blessed time,

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