II.
From Aroer to Minnith and to Abel’s fertile plain
Of twenty noble cities the “mighty men” are slain;
Rejoice, thou son of Gilead, the Lord hath heard thy vow,—
Thy foes are crushed, thy father’s sons before thy presence bow.
III.
It is an hour of triumph to the warrior and his band,
An hour of stern rejoicing to all the chosen land,
When the conqueror of Ammon, the valiant of his race,
Beholds once more, with well-earned joy, his long-lost native place.
IV.
But who is this advancing with gay attendant crowd?
O Jephthah! dost remember now the vow that thou hast vowed?
Why is thy face so ghastly pale? why sinks thy noble head?
Thy daughter’s blood must now atone for all that thou hast shed!
V.
Honour and pomp and victory are all forgotten now,
And clouds of darkest anguish sweep across the father’s brow.
He speaks—his words are words of death: he orders—is obeyed—
And lonely mountains mourn the fate of Israel’s queenly maid.