| |
| IN Judah, in the days of story, | |
| When chronicles were gilt with glory, | |
| Heroic dames and virgins then | |
| The equal honors earned with men; | |
| And God himself the prophet taught | 5 |
| To praise and bless them as he ought. | |
| |
| My heart exults to contemplate, | |
| My rhyme runs eager to relate | |
| Their courage firm, their high resolve, | |
| Their faith that nothing could dissolve. | 10 |
| Oh, that enthusiasm strong | |
| Would from the theme inspire the song; | |
| That in this sad, degenerate time | |
| I’d write in poetry sublime— | |
| What might some grace of emulation | 15 |
| Raise in a faint and prostrate nation. | |
| |
| I leave to men of deeper knowing | |
| The task of God’s inerrant showing; | |
| How nature’s best and noblest sons | |
| Are cursed and crushed by worthless ones; | 20 |
| But this I know, that virtues holy | |
| Are brightened by contrasting folly, | |
| And constant courage best was shown | |
| When persecutors had the throne, | |
| And columns high had ne’er been reared, | 25 |
| Had no invading foe appeared; | |
| And when to desperate straits we’re brought, | |
| Then God’s deliverance is wrought. | |
| |
| When Judah by the Gentile arms | |
| Had seen th’ extreme of war’s alarms, | 30 |
| O’erthrown her temple and her city, | |
| Her children slaughtered without pity; | |
| The demon conqueror intended | |
| Her name and fame should both be ended. | |
| He thought one dreadful, dire example | 35 |
| Of horrid torture might be ample, | |
| Now that Jehovah’d them forsaken | |
| And from his folk his flight had taken. | |
| |
| One matron from the drove he chooses, | |
| Her seven sons he also looses; | 40 |
| In public presence will them test, | |
| To answer his supreme behest. | |
| |
| The eldest, he him sets before; | |
| “Now, bending down, our gods adore.” | |
| “The Lord forbid,” he reverent cries; | 45 |
| “His holy law such act denies. | |
| I to no image—neither thee— | |
| Shall kiss the hand nor bend the knee.” | |
| |
| His life made forfeit then was taken— | |
| His trust in Israel’s God unshaken. | 50 |
| |
| The next that sacred household cherished, | |
| Who witnessed how his brother perished, | |
| At once responded: “Shall I less | |
| Than his my faith in God confess? | |
| I love God’s law—its second word | 55 |
| Is none but he is Israel’s Lord.” | |
| And so he died for truth and faith. | |
| The third, undaunted, also saith: | |
| “None but Jehovah worship I”— | |
| And likewise he was drawn to die. | 60 |
| The fourth the traitor’s awful doom | |
| Sets forth: “Who in Jehovah’s room | |
| Shall worship hero, god or demon”— | |
| His young life, too, the sword makes claim on. | |
| |
| “Our God is one,” the Scripture saith, | 65 |
| “And him alone I’ll own in death.” | |
| So died the fifth; our watchword brave | |
| Fresh courage to the next one gave: | |
| “Jehovah—terrible is he | |
| Who, Israel, dwells in midst of thee; | 70 |
| He may his awful plans conceal, | |
| But in his time he’ll them reveal.” | |
| So passed the youthful sixth, in dying, | |
| “Jehovah, take me,” meekly sighing. | |
| |
| Assuming now a tender mien | 75 |
| The tyrant pleads: “My boy, you’ve seen | |
| How vain it is to trust in one | |
| Who utmost unconcern has shown. | |
| ’Tis only to respect our law— | |
| I’d put your countrymen in awe; | 80 |
| For Rome, supreme, must be obeyed— | |
| Nor gods nor emperor gainsaid. | |
| The test from thee’s a simple thing— | |
| In front of Jove I’ll drop my ring, | |
| Stoop down and pick it up; no thought | 85 |
| Of inferential change is wrought.” | |
| |
| The bright-cheeked boy, his eyes upturned, | |
| The tyrant’s seeming mercy spurned; | |
| His soul kept free from heathen stains | |
| Breaks forth in rapt prophetic strains: | 90 |
| “Forever reigns our glorious Lord— | |
| Performed shall be his faithful word; | |
| His kingdom raised, while ruined thine | |
| He’ll to oblivion consign. | |
| As chastened Israel suffers now, | 95 |
| So shall he purer offerings vow. | |
| His faith in days that have gone by | |
| Endear him to his God most high, | |
| And future glories wait the day | |
| When all mankind shall own his sway; | 100 |
| |
| “But thou might’st save thy soul if He | |
| Were but to show His power to thee.” | |
| He thus to Chaldea’s king made known | |
| His sovereign Lord and God alone. | |
| The prostrate king the word obeyed | 105 |
| And favor found and humbly prayed. | |
| To God’s own folk he mercy showed | |
| And so was blessed in his abode; | |
| But thou, nor truth nor mercy giving, | |
| Are but for greater vengeance living. | 110 |
| |
| “To death!” the raging tyrant cries. | |
| Prevention weak the mother tries, | |
| With arms enfolding makes her plea: | |
| “O let him not be torn from me— | |
| My seventh, my last, my life, my all! | 115 |
| On me let first thy vengeance fall. | |
| Sword, come on me, nor let me see | |
| The death of one so dear to me!” | |
| |
| “Nay, nay,” the scoffer made reply, | |
| “Your law forbids that you should die; | 120 |
| ‘Ye dare not slay the dam that day | |
| Ye take the offspring’s life away.’” | |
| |
| “Thou scourge of man, thou hand of God! | |
| Thy sins thy guilty soul shall load, | |
| Till down to depths thou shalt be driven, | 125 |
| Transcending all that fell from heaven. | |
| But go, my son, when Abra’m thou | |
| In blissful peace shalt meet, avow | |
| Superior reverence to me— | |
| For I gave seven, but one gave he— | 130 |
| But tempted was his faith when tried, | |
| See mine performed—my Isaacs died. | |
| |
| “What shall I add?” Her reason flown, | |
| Why should she linger here alone— | |
| Wandering unguarded, heedless, fell | 135 |
| She whom her Lord had honored well. | |
| |
| Has Judah now no valiant dame | |
| That might such awful honors claim? | |
| For answer: In my northern home | |
| You’ll see, ere wintry weather come, | 140 |
| The fields the cheery flowers adorn, | |
| Bejeweled bright at early morn; | |
| Then fierce the driving, biting storm | |
| Will bare the meads of every form | |
| That spring and summer spread around | 145 |
| So lavish on the fertile ground. | |
| But brightly then the heather bell | |
| Purple the hills I love so well. | |
| When dangerous foxgloves, crimson clover | |
| Lie hid till winter storms are over; | 150 |
| The bloom upon the Arcadian hills | |
| Is blown by that which verdure kills. | |
| |
| If Judah’s winter comes again, | |
| Her hero dames shall bloom amain. | |
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