We too must far be fleeing.
Children dear, I thrill with fear
To hear your hungry crying!
Away, away! one more such day--
And we're too weak for flying."


THE BURNING TEMPLE

The savage foes of this lost land of ours
Conspire to fire Antonius' shapely towers.
Ere long the Temple proud, surpassing all
Art's fairest gems, shall unto earth be bowed!
Lo! through the lurid gloom the lightning's lash!
And hark the unnatural thunder crash and boom!
Moriah's marvellous fane is leaning low;
With cries of woe her rafters rend in twain;
For our Imperial One is brought to naught.
Yea, even where most cunningly she was wrought,
The fire has cleft its way each coign into,
For wood and stone searching her bosom through.
Astonishingly high she took the blue,
Yet weeping molten dross shall meet the ground--
A sight for grief profound to gaze across.
Flame follows flame, each like a giant worm,
To feast and batten on her beauteous form.
Through gold and silver doors they sinuous swarm
And crop the carven flowers with gust enorme;
Till all is emptiness.
Then with hellish shout