THINGS TO COME.

BY GEORGE CROLY.

THERE are murmurs on the deep,

There are thunders on the heaven; Though the ocean billows sleep, Though no cloud the sign has given; Earth that sudden storm shall feel, "T is a storm of man and steel.

Tribes are in their forests now,
Idly hunting ounce and deer;
Tribes are crouching in their snow
O'er their wild and wintry cheer,
Doomed to swell that tempest's roar,
Where the torrent-rain is gore.

War of old has swept the world,
Guilt has shaken strength and pride;
But the thunders, feebly hurled,
Quivered o'er the spot, and died;
When the vengeance next shall fall,
Wo to each, and wo to all.

Man hath shed Man's blood for toys,

Love and hatred, fame and gold;

Now, a mightier wrath destroys;

Earth in cureless crime grows old; Past destruction shall be tame

To the rushing of that flame.

When the clouds of Vengeance break,
Folly shall be on the wise,
Frenzy shall be on the weak,
Nation against nation rise,
And the worse than Pagan sword
In Religion's breast be gored.

Then the Martyr's solemn cry,

That a thousand years has rung, Where their robes of crimson lie

Round the "Golden Altar” flung, Shall be heard, and from the "throne," The trumpet of the "Judgment" blown.

"Wo to Earth, the mighty wo!"

Yet shall Earth her conscience lull, Till above the brim shall flow

The draught of gall-The cup is full. Yet a moment! - Comes the ire, Famine, bloodshed, flood, and fire.

First shall fall a Mighty one!

Ancient crime had crowned his brow,

Dark Ambition raised his throne

Truth his victim and his foe. Earth shall joy in all her fear O'er the great Idolater.

Then shall rush abroad the blaze
Sweeping Heathen zone by zone;
Afric's tribe the spear shall raise,
Shivering India's pagod throne:
China hear her Idol's knell
In the Russian cannon-peal.

On the Turk shall fall the blow
From the Grecian's daggered hand!
Blood like winter-showers shall flow,
Till he treads the Syrian land!
Then shall final vengeance shine,
And all be sealed in Palestine !