JEPHTHAH. 45
Into the bowels of the earth, and close
Upon those grisly men of war, whose life
Groans from the prison that shall crush it out.
CHORUS OF ELDERS.
Be thou most blessed of the Lord for ever!
But what shall he that hath delivered us
Have for his guerdon when he comes in triumph ?
A milk-white ass shall bear him through the city,
And wreaths of roses be instead of dust,
And dancing girls, and feet of maidens most,
Shall strike a measure of delight, and boys
With bright unsullied curls shall minister
Before him all the days of life God grants,
And all his platters shall be made of gold,
And jewels beyond price shall stud them all.
What sayest thou, O wisest of our race,
Ahinoam, the aged priest of God, ,
Who weighest out the stars with balances,
And knowest best of men the heart of man?
AHINOAM.
Ye are as children, and nowise your tongues
Speak sense. I never hear your voice but know
Some geese are gabbling. Sing to him perchance!
The voice of old men is a pleasant thing.
CHORUS.
What say ye, brethren, shall we sing to him
Some sweet low ditty, or the louder pean?