jephthah's vow.
69
And ills of life would rudely press on me,
Thou wouldst be near to comfort and sustain.
Ay, thou hast brought me low; for I have sworn,—
That vow, alas! it cannot be recalled;
And I must yield thee up to Him to whom
In a rash hour I vowed to offer thee,
A grateful sacrifice."
Thou wouldst be near to comfort and sustain.
Ay, thou hast brought me low; for I have sworn,—
That vow, alas! it cannot be recalled;
And I must yield thee up to Him to whom
In a rash hour I vowed to offer thee,
A grateful sacrifice."
The gentle girl bent down.
No prayer for life was on her parted lip:
She knew her hour was come; she felt that life,
With all its promised blessings, soon would close.
She knew her eye on earth no more would cheer
Her aged father's heart. She asked not life:
But holy gratitude was in her heart,
And the pure fervor of a grateful soul
Glowed on her cheek and kindled in her eye;
And praise was on her lips, praise to His name
Who had that day the glorious victory given.
No prayer for life was on her parted lip:
She knew her hour was come; she felt that life,
With all its promised blessings, soon would close.
She knew her eye on earth no more would cheer
Her aged father's heart. She asked not life:
But holy gratitude was in her heart,
And the pure fervor of a grateful soul
Glowed on her cheek and kindled in her eye;
And praise was on her lips, praise to His name
Who had that day the glorious victory given.
She sought a hallowed blessing from her sire.
"My father! if thy lip hath sworn to Him
Who hath this day brought victory to thee,
Do unto me according to thy vow.
O! life is sweet, and the blest consciousness
Of living for my sire, to cheer his heart,
Amid its secret, silent loneliness,
Comes o'er my spirit like the tones which breathed
From a fond mother's love, in childhood's hour.
But I can leave all these; there is a joy
Which far transcends all earthly bliss, the thought
That I may watch o'er thee in happier realms,
And hover round thy couch of midnight rest.
"My father! if thy lip hath sworn to Him
Who hath this day brought victory to thee,
Do unto me according to thy vow.
O! life is sweet, and the blest consciousness
Of living for my sire, to cheer his heart,
Amid its secret, silent loneliness,
Comes o'er my spirit like the tones which breathed
From a fond mother's love, in childhood's hour.
But I can leave all these; there is a joy
Which far transcends all earthly bliss, the thought
That I may watch o'er thee in happier realms,
And hover round thy couch of midnight rest.
