Jephthah and Other Mysteries

LYRICAL AND DRAMATIC. Shall poisonous wind and avalanche combine To wreak swift justice, human and divine? Priests thrive on poison. Carrion Their eager teeth Tear, till the sacramental sun Its sword unsheath, And bid their horrid carnival be done, And smite beneath In their cold gasping valleys, and bid light Break the battalions of the angry night. That sword that smote from Heaven was so keen, Its silver blade No angel’s sight, no fairy’s eye hath seen, No tender maid With subtle insight may behold its sheen With light inlaid ; But God, who forged it, breathed upon its point, And His pure unction did the hilt anoint. Within the poet’s hand he laid the sword : With reverent ear The poet listened to His word Cleansed through of fear. The brightness of the glory of the Lord Grew adamant, a spear! And when he took the falchion in his hand Lo! kings and princes bowed to his command. 217