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THE HEBREW CAPTIVE.

"Even to this day, the vail is upon their heart," 2 Cor. iii. 15.
She stood and from her flashing eye
Shot fierce and scornful radiancy:--
Ten thousand wildering dreams arose
Of blasted hopes, of early woes!
Her fevered brow she wildly prest,
Deep fearful thoughts possess her breast,
And on her weary, pallid cheek
Is traced the burning heetic streak.

She knelt, the haughty strife was o'er,-
She longed a Saviour to adore;

Yet not from darkness was she freed-
The thraldom of the Patriarch's seed
She knelt,-all vainly had she sought
That peace should gild her lowly lot ;-
And burning words unchecked and free,
Broke on eve's sweet serenity:-

"Where is the King of Israel's race?
"Messiah-God of truth and grace?
"Hath he his covenant foresworn?
"Still leaves he us in gloom to mourn?
"Have we not waited long and prayed;

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Why is the boon so long delayed?

“Why doth the scoffer in his pride,
"Still boast of Him the crucified!

"Lo! here as outcasts, still we roam,
"Unknown the hallowed joys of home ;-
"Jerusalem, our fathers' boast,

"Is lowly laid, her honours lost;→

"As chaff is scattered to the wind,

"So rove her sons, the great, the kind ;-
"And noble hearts are bowed in dust,
"For long deferred is Jacob's trust.
"Our temple,―vanished is its light,
"Its glory hid in rayless night;-
"Its shrine, its holiest place defiled,
"Its altars of their gifts despoiled.
"Alas! shall Judah ever mourn?
"Shall that rich glory ne'er return?
"Oh, for a voice, an answering tone,
“To whisper, 'tis not ever gone!

“And still I weep? shall tedious years
"Witness my unavailing tears?
"Alone,-a captive,-far from thee,
"Home of my joyous infancy!

;

"Once I could own a kindred breast,
"Whereon mine own might fondly rest,—
"And laughing eyes have fed the flame
"Enkindled with a mother's name.
"But fled is hope, and joy hath flown,
"And weary bonds are mine alone
"I turn and weep, and watch and pray,
"But bliss hath vanished far away :-
"And yet-could I but own the sign,
"And claim the lowly Saviour mine,
Away!-it ne'er can be that earth
"Hath given our King Messiah birth.”
Days passed,-again she knelt, and prayed,-
Her brow was calm, her spirit staid,—
Her eye had lost its scornful light,
Its glance spoke nought but calm delight.
She knelt, the vail was drawn aside,

w-she loved the Crucified;

She saw

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THE

YOUTHS' MAGAZINE;

OR

Evangelical Miscellany.

FEBRUARY, 1843.

HOUGHTON HOUSE.

HOUGHTON HOUSE, a fine specimen of an old English mansion, was situate at Houghton Conquest, near Ampthill in Bedfordshire. It is now generally known in the neighbourhood as "the ruins"-a term which conveys some idea of its present state. It was built early in the seventeenth century, probably by Inigo Jones. A modern writer speaking of its original appearance, says "the whole may perhaps be termed by some, a medley, but it has a very fine effect; a much more pleasing one to many than the stiff, regular, and petty imitations of German or Venetian architecture with which England is now most plentifully studded." By some it is presumed to have been built after some plan or description in the "Arcadia" of Sir Philip Sidney, but though this family was certainly connected with the place, the tradition is improbable.

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