Chronicles of a pioneer school from 1792 to 1833 : $b being the history of Miss Sarah Pierce and her Litchfield school
History
Chronicles of a pioneer school from 1792 to 1833 : $b being the history of Miss Sarah Pierce and her Litchfield school
Litchfield Female Academy (Conn.) -- History
Most true, my child. In this discern the cares
Which with unwonted gloom our brows o’erspread
Israel ungrateful to their Heavenly Father
Forsake his altars and forget his laws
Pride violence and rapine waste the land.
To inbred evils terrible to bear
Are joined proud Ammon’s and Philistia’s bands
Who waste the land, and spare nor sex nor age.
The few who still remember their Creator
In sackcloth clad, raise the repentant voice,
Implore his mercy a forgiving grace.
As former sins afflict their guilty minds,
The injustice done thy father, stings their conscience
As humble suppliants they implore forgiveness
And entreat your sire to lead his chosen troops
To shield his country from proud Ammon’s force
His doubtful mind now ponders their request
His patriot bosom burns to save his country
But latent fears of their returning hatred
Repress the generous ardour of his soul.
ELIZABETH.
Ah, sure he will not hesitate to fly
When his loved Israel calls for succour
When thousands of our nation ask for aid
Who ne’er united with his envious foes
To persecute and drive him from his country
But now I rejoiced in this obscurity
Which saved my father from dread war’s alarms
But since my suffering brethren need his aid
Dear as he is I yield him for their safety
And my suppliant voice unite with theirs
To urge his presence in the tented field.
(_Enter an attendant._)
ATTENDANT.
Madam two women ask to be admitted
And to your private ear relate their sorrows
BETHULAH.
Whence come they, what is their dress and mien?
ATTENDANT.
They both are clothed in Israel’s mourning garb
One venerable by years, but more by grief
The other young and beauteous as the morn
Her gentle mien, a face bedewed with tears
Melt every heart to pity, may they have leave to enter?
BETHULAH.
Conduct them hither. Thy outcasts Israel
Shall find a shelter in my humble shed.
ELIZABETH.
Some sad, disastrous tale of wrongs and woe
I stand prepared to hear, Oh my loved country
Tho’ a stranger to thee, thou still art dear
“Dear as the blood which mantles in my heart.”
(_Enter_ MAHALAH _and_ TIRZAH.)
BETHULAH.
What do I see, the stern Athobat’s wife
Mahalah here.
MAHALAH.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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