Fell ruin and death’s dark pall.
Of valiant Jephthah, whose brave heart
With sudden grief did bow,
When his daughter came with dance and song
Unconscious of his vow.
Of Gideon, lifting up his voice
To him who rules the sky,
And wringing out his well drenched fleece,
When all around was dry.
How Deborah, ’neath her spreading palms,