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Project Gutenberg EPUB3 edition
Smith, George Adam and Nicoll, W. Robertson (William Robertson), Sir
. . . . .
The Hammer[275] is come up to thy face!
Hold the rampart![276]Keep watch on the way!
Brace the loins![277] Pull thyself firmly together![278]
The shields[279] of his heroes are red,
The warriors are in scarlet;[280]
Like[281] fire are the ...[282]of the chariots in the day
of his muster,
And the horsemen[283] are prancing.
Through the markets rage chariots,
They tear across the squares;[284]
The look of them is like torches,
Like lightnings they dart to and fro.[285]
He musters his nobles....[286]
They rush to the wall and the mantlet[287] is fixed!
The river-gates[288] burst open, the palace dissolves.[289]
And Huṣṣab[290] is stripped, is brought forth,
With her maids sobbing like doves,
Beating their breasts.
And Niniveh! she was like a reservoir of waters,
Her waters ...[291]
And now they flee. “Stand, stand!” but there is
none to rally.
Plunder silver, plunder gold!
Infinite treasures, mass of all precious things!
Void and devoid and desolate[292] is she.
Melting hearts and shaking knees,
And anguish in all loins,
And nothing but faces full of black fear.[293]
Where is the Lion’s den,
And the young lions’ feeding ground[294]?
Whither the Lion retreated,[295]
The whelps of the Lion, with none to affray:
The Lion, who tore enough for his whelps,
And strangled for his lionesses.
And he filled his pits with prey,
And his dens with rapine.
Lo, I am at thee (oracle of Jehovah of Hosts):
I will put up thy ...[296] in flames,
The sword shall devour thy young lions;