With flagging wing, and crest to earth bow'd low, Indignant dies beneath a Moslem's blow.

Alas for Palestine! her palmy vale,

Her grove of nard that scented ev'ry gale,

Her corn-lands thick with sheaves, her crystal rills,

Her flocks that feed upon a thousand hills,

Her Faith-than flocks, and groves, and vales more

dear

All own the triumphs of Medina's spear.

For Afric weep! her rich and radiant store,
From Ophir rifled, gem and golden ore;

Her ravag'd lands, that erst so beauteous smil'd,
From Nile's fair bank to Niger's margin wild;
Her Sons, immers'd in Slav'ry's darkest night,
All tell the ruffian Moslem's conqu’ring might.
But oh! if yet the tide of song may flow
In sadder stream, and murmur deeper woe;
If yet one tear be warm in Pity's urn—

That tear, that song, to wasted India turn!

For she was happy once; her citron groves

Sigh'd to the whispers of the purest loves;

Her proud Pagodas, in the First of time,

Saw Science born, and wondrous Lore sublime;
Lovely, she slept in Cashmere's fairy bow'rs,

Or sat enthron'd on Delhi's strength of tow'rs.
How chang'd the scene! pale Hymen's altar falls;
Th' impure Seraglio rears its prison-walls;

Steals o'er the soul the Koran's chilling gloom,
And Science westward bends her parting plume.

But Time speeds on; and tho' th' Impostor's pow'r
Fiercely hath rag'd its dark and dreadful hour;
Tho' rude o'er Afric's sands the whirlwind pass'd,
And Asia rock'd beneath the rolling blast-
Yet Hope, soft-smiling, lifts her Seraph form,

And points to sun-bright days, beyond the storm!

Hail, sun-bright days!-more fair, than was, of

old,

Saturnian age, by fabling Fancy told—

Hail, sun-bright days! bring on your radiant train, Peace, Mercy, Love, resume your halcyon reign; Bid ancient Lore, and classic Taste refin'd,

Raise the low thought, and harmonize the mind; While heav'n-born Truth, (tho' dimm'd, forbid to fade,)

With beam, more strong from Error's transient shade, Breaks forth unclouded, and on Mecca's night

Pours the full flood of everlasting light.

MATTHEW ROLLESTON,

UNIVERSITY COLLEGE.

JOHN THE BAPTIST:

PRIZE POEM,

RECITED

IN THE THEATRE, OXFORD,

IN THE YEAR MDCCCIX.