A seething on the lips, I’ll say no more …
Care but to reign and not for Israel’s calm?
I who am wounded with her every wound?…
Look out upon yon Philistine bold fires
Lapping the night with bloody tongue—look out!
[A commotion is heard within.]
As God has swung the world and hung forever
The infinite in awe, to-morrow night
Not one of them shall burn!
MICHAL