God of the thunder! from whose cloudy seat
The fiery winds of Desolation flow;
Father of vengeance, that with purple feet
Like a full wine-press tread’st the world below;
The embattled armies wait thy sign to slay,
Nor springs the beast of havoc on his...
Henry Hart Milman
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From “The Fall of Jerusalem”
TO the sound of timbrels sweet
Moving slow our solemn feet,
We have borne thee on the road
To the virgin’s blest abode;
With thy yellow torches gleaming,
And thy scarlet mantle streaming,
And the canopy above...