English poem
Canto 17 (That day, though to the convent…)
That day, though to the convent brood A holiday, was kept in mood Of serious sort, yet took the tone And livery of legend grown Poetical if grave. The fane Was garnished, and it heard a strain Reserved for festa. And befell That now and then at interval Some, gathered on the cliffs around, Would sing Saint Cosmas' canticle; Some read aloud from book embrowned While others listened; some prefer A chant in Scripture character, Or monkish sort of melodrame.
Upon one group the pilgrims came In gallery of slender space, Locked in the echoing embrace Of crags: a choir of seemly men Reposed in cirque, nor wanting grace,
Whose tones went eddying down the glen:
First Voice
No more the princes flout the word— Jeremiah's in dungeon cast: The siege is up, the walls give way: This desolation is the last. The Chaldee army, pouring in, Fiercer grown for disarray, Hunt Zedekiah that fleeth out: Baal and Assyria win: Israel's last king is shamed in rout,
Taken and blinded, chains put on, And captive dragged to Babylon.
Second Voice
O daughter of Jerusalem, Cast up the ashes on the brow! Nergal and Samgar, Sarsechim Break down thy towers, abase thee now.
Third Voice
Oh, now each lover leaveth!
Fourth Voice
None comfort me, she saith:
First Voice
Abroad the sword bereaveth:
Second Voice
At home there is as death.
The Four
Behold, behold! the days foretold begin: A sword without—the pestilence within.
First and Second Voices
But thou that pull'st the city down, Ah, vauntest thou thy glory so?
Second and Third Voices
God is against thee, haughty one;
His archers roundabout thee go:
The Four
Earth shall be moved, the nations groan At the jar of Bel and Babylon In din of overthrow.
First Voice
But Zion shall be built again!
Third and Fourth Voices
Nor shepherd from the flock shall sever; For lo, his mercy doth remain, His tender mercy—
Second Voice
And forever!
The Four
Forever and forever!
Choral
Forever and forever His mercy shall remain: In rivers flow forever, Forever fall in rain!
More by Herman Melville
- Canto 16 (To branching grottoes next they fare…)
- Canto 17 ("Fine, very fine," said Derwent light…)
- Canto 17 (Disturbed by topics canvassed late…)
- Canto 17 (Nathan had sprung from worthy stock…)
- Canto 18 (At early hour with Rolfe and…)
- Canto 18 (Huge be the buttresses enmassed…)
- Canto 18 (Like sails convened when calms delay…)
- Canto 18 (Pertaining unto nations three…)