Page:The Forest Sanctuary.pdf/32

No aid!—thou too didst pass!—and all had pass'd,
The fearful—and the desperate—and the strong!
Some like the bark that rushes with the blast.
Some like the leaf swept shiveringly along,
And some as men, that have but one more field
To fight, and then may slumber on their shield.
Therefore they arm in hope. But now the throng
Roll'd on, and bore me with their living tide,

Wave swept on wave. We reach'd a stately square,
Deck'd for the rites. An altar stood on high,
And gorgeous, in the midst. A place for prayer.
And praise, and offering. Could the earth supply
No fruits, no flowers for sacrifice, of all
Which on her sunny lap unheeded fall?
No fair young firstling of the flock to die,
As when before their God the Patriarchs stood?