And throng’d the streets in hurrying, wild dismay;
While knelt thy priests before His awful shrine
Who made of old renown and empire thine.
But on the spoiler moves! The temple’s gate,
The bright, the beautiful, his guards unfold;
And all the scene reveals its solemn state,
Its courts and pillars, rich with sculptured gold;
And man with eye unhallow’d views th’ abode,
The sever’d spot, the dwelling-place of God.
Where art thou, Mighty Presence! that of yore