From brighter streams her vast ideas flowed,
With purer fire her ardent spirit glowed.
To her 'twas given in fancy to explore,
The land of miracles, the holiest shore;
That realm where first the light of life was sent,
The loved, the punished, of th' Omnipotent!
O'er Judah's hills her thoughts inspired would stray,
Thro' Jordan's valleys trace their lonely way;
By Siloa's brook, or 5[1]Almotana's deep,
Chained in dead silence, and unbroken sleep;
Scenes, whose cleft rocks, and blasted deserts tell,
Where pass'd th' Eternal, where his anger fell!
Where oft his voice the words of fate revealed,
Swelled in the whirlwind, in the thunder pealed,
Or heard by prophets in some palmy vale,
Breathed 'still small' whispers on the midnight gale.
There dwelt her spirit—there her hand pourtrayed,
'Midst the lone wilderness or cedar-shade,
