What do I hear! is then my darling child My life’s best comfort and my dearest treasure Devoted to thy rash and bloody vow Oh Jephthah, Jephthah must this glorious morn This day of joy to happy Israel’s race Be only dark in cruel Jephthah’s house Must its bright hours be stained with guiltless blood The light of life torn from a mother’s arms No human victims the Almighty claims Tis heathen gods who boast such horrid rites Offensive to our great Jehovah who delights in mercy. [Illustration: PL. XXV.—BLACK LACE VEIL MADE BY “THE ROSE OF SHARON” ] ELIZABETH. My dearest mother do not yield to grief Collect thy wonted firmness And give thy bright example to thy daughter. Oh see’st thou not my father’s wounded spirit Claims thy support And thy distress adds anguish to his wounds. Think of Abraham our noble ancestor No sigh escaped, no tear bedewed his cheek When his lov’d Isaac follow’d to the altar And mildly ask’d where is the lamb for sacrifice. BETHULAH. Twas no rash vow made by our rev’rend father But God’s express command, his child to offer To show the world one truly faithful saint At God’s command thy precious life I’d yield Without a murmur crown the sacred victim But now, oh now a mother’s tears are just My cries shall rend the air and know no pause Till Heaven in mercy move stern Jephthah’s heart To revoke his cruel his unlawful vow. Will not whole hecatombs of bulls suffice Will not some other blood atone for thine Behold me here oh! most unjust of fathers Kneeling I ask to spend my life for hers. ELIZABETH. Mother most rever’d most lov’d of mortals Do not in pity, do not melt me thus Nor rend my father’s heart by thy reproaches Lest grief so poignant snap the chord of life And bleeding Israel mourn their gallant leader. JEPHTHAH. No let her just reproaches have full vent. I deserve her hatred, thine and my country’s What right had I to vow a sacrifice Which might have fallen upon another’s head Had any of my menial train advanc’d With joyful greetings at their master’s glory They had been sacrificed to my dread oath And grief like mine torn the fond bosoms Of their hapless friends Oh God most holy, wise are thy decrees I kiss the rod and own thy just correction. MAHALAH. Is there no offering can atone to heaven No blood of beasts to save this precious child Speak holy father thou art read in the laws Can nothing save this guiltless valued maid? ELZAPHAN.