Into her bosom-with a mother's thought— The man of God came forth, and led the child Unto his mother, and went on his way. And he was there-her beautiful-her own— Living and smiling on her with his arms Folded about her neck, and his warm breath Breathing upon her lips, and in her ear The music of his gentle voice once more! D 2 JEPHTHAH'S DAUGHTER. SHE stood before her father's gorgeous tent, Its surface was so polish'd. She was stilling Her light, quick breath, to hear; and the white rose Scarce moved upon her bosom, as it swell'd, Like nothing but a lovely wave of light To meet the arching of her queenly neck. Whose whole existence was the pouring out Of rich and deep affections. Onward came The leaden tramp of thousands. Clarion notes Rang sharply on the ear at intervals; And the low, mingled din of mighty hosts The stately horse treads proudly-he hath trod Of warriors roll magnificently on— Their weight hath crush'd the fallen. Man is there- The mighty Jephthah led his warriors on But free as India's leopard; and his mail, His crest was Judah's kingliest; and the look Of his dark, lofty eye, and bended brow, Might quell the lion. He led on; but thoughts Seem'd gathering round which troubled him. The veins Grew visible upon his swarthy brow, And his proud lip was press'd as if with pain. He trod less firmly; and his restless eye Glanced forward frequently, as if some ill He dared not meet, were there. His home was near; And he had reach'd his home; when lo! there sprang One with a bounding footstep, and a brow Of light, to meet him. Oh how beautiful!- Of a dark wing in visions. He stood still, She call'd him "Father"-but he answer'd not. She knew that he was stricken, then; and rush'd Of tears she could not bridle, sobb'd a prayer Shot o'er her countenance; and then the soul The sun had wellnigh set. The fire was on the altar; and the priest Of the High God was there. A pallid man And she who was to die, the calmest one |