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FIRST PROPHET.
AIR.
From north, from south, from east, from west,
Conspiring nations come;
Tremble thou vice-polluted breast;
Blasphemers, all be dumb.
The tempest gathers all around, 75
On Babylon it lies;
Down with her! down -- down to the ground;
She sinks, she groans, she dies.
SECOND PROPHET.
Down with her, Lord, to lick the dust,
Ere yonder setting sun; 80
Serve her as she hath served the just!
'Tis fixed -- it shall be done.
FIRST PRIEST.
RECITATIVE.
No more! When slaves thus insolent presume,
The king himself shall judge, and fix their doom.
Unthinking wretches! have not you, and all, 85
Beheld our power in Zedekiah's fall?
To yonder gloomy dungeon turn your eyes;
See where dethron'd your captive monarch lies,
Depriv'd of sight and rankling in his chain; 89
See where he mourns his friends and children slain.
Yet know, ye slaves, that still remain behind
More ponderous chains, and dungeons more confin'd.
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