On Jordan's banks

I
On Jordan's banks the Arab's camels stray,
On Sion's hill the False One's votaries pray,
The Baal-adorer bows on Sinai's steep—
Yet there—even there—Oh God! thy thunders sleep.

II
There—where thy finger scorch'd the tablet stone!
There—where thy Shadow to thy people shone!
Thy Glory shrouded in its garb of fire:—
Thyself—none living see and not expire!—

III
Oh! in the lightning—let thy glance appear;
Sweep from his shiver'd hand the oppressor's spear!
How long by tyrants shall thy land be trod?
How long thy temple worshipless, Oh God?

poem by Byron from The Hebrew Melodies (1815)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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