Jephthah and Other Mysteries

LYRICAL AND DRAMATIC. My sword, that darts among them serpentwise— And all their warriors fell back a space, _ And all the air rang out with sudden cries, Seeing the death and fury of my face, And feeling the long sword sweep out and kill, Till there was won the slippery path, the place Whence I might sever the white cords, and fill The ship with tangled wreckage of the sail. All this I did, and bore the blade of ill Back, dripping blood, to thee most firm and pale Who held our rudder, all alone, and stood Fierce and triumphant in the rising gale, Bent to my sword, and kissed the stinging blood, _ While the good ship leapt free upon the deep, And felt the feet of the resistless flood Run, and the fervour of the billows sweep Under our keel—and we were clean away, _ Laughing to see the foamheads sough and sleep, As we kept pace with ocean all the day And one long night of toil ; until the sun Lit on these cliffs his morning beams that play With our sails’ rent and rifted white, and run Like summer lightning all about the deck, And laugh upon the work my sword had done 207