But, whence that shout? Good heavens! amazement all!
See yonder tower just nodding to the fall:
See where an army covers all the ground,
Saps the strong wall, and pours destruction round; 50
The ruin smokes, destruction pours along;
How low the great, how feeble are the strong!
The foe prevails, the lofty walls recline—
O God of hosts, the victory is thine!
CHORUS OF ISRAELITES.
Down with them, Lord, to lick the dust; 55
Thy vengeance be begun:
Serve them as they have serv’d the just,
And let thy will be done.
FIRST PRIEST.
RECITATIVE.
All, all is lost. The Syrian army fails,
Cyrus, the conqueror of the world, prevails, 60
The ruin smokes, the torrent pours along;
How low the proud, how feeble are the strong!
Save us, O Lord! to thee, though late, we pray,
And give repentance but an hour’s delay.
FIRST AND SECOND PRIEST.
AIR.
Thrice happy, who in happy hour 65
To Heaven their praise bestow,
And own his all-consuming power
Before they feel the blow!
FIRST PROPHET.
RECITATIVE.
Now, now’s our time! ye wretches bold and blind,
Brave but to God, and cowards to mankind, 70
Too late you seek that power unsought before,
Your wealth, your pride, your kingdom, are no more.
AIR.