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DEBORAH'S TRIUMPH.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


54

DEBORAH'S TRIUMPH.

[_]

“Deborah, a prophetess, the wife of Lapidoth, she judged Israel at that time. And she dwelt under the palm-tree of Deborah in Beth-el, in the mount of Ephraim; and the children of Israel came up to her for judgment.” Thus is this illustrious woman, who has been called “the only female character introduced in the Old Testament wherein we find nothing to forgive or to pity,” first presented to us in Judges IV. 4, 5. The poem opens at the moment of her interview with Barak, introduced in the sixth verse, and embraces her signal history to the beginning of chapter fifth, when “sang Deborah and Barak.” She was now, probably, in the bloom of youth, as she judged Israel so many years after this; and her lofty genius, her poetical inspiration and fervor, her divine illumination and high appointments from God, give a lustre and sublimity to her character, irresistibly investing the image we form of her person.

She is fair as the morn, and superb doth she stand,
As the palm where she dwells 'mid the trees of the land!
With a fervor divine is her young spirit warm,
Giving aspect sublime to her slight woman's form;
While inspired and prophetic, a light from on high—
'T is the day-star of Israel!—beams through her eye.
For her mind with the power doth Jehovah invest,
To adjudge, for himself, his own people oppressed;
And his angel of mercy commissioned is she,
From the Gentile his backslidden children to free;
Not by might, nor by valor,—by ruse, nor by skill;
But by being to man as the voice of his will.
Now, the captain of Israel, blenching, appalled,
At the Canaanite hosts, to her presence is called;
And the chief in his armour leans, mute, on his spear,
Of her counsel the clear-sounding accents to hear;

55

While her words to his soul come as sunbeams, in power,
And in sweetness, like drops from the cell of the flower.
“Doth the Lord God of Israel not to thee say,
Thou shalt draw out for battle thy men, and away,
By Mount Tabor the captain of Jabin to meet,
With his phalanxes, war-steeds, and chariots fleet,
And that he by the cold-flowing Kishon will bring
To thy hand the whole hosts of the Canaanite king?
“Doth he say it, and call thee? And shall it not be,
That the foes of our God will be given to thee?
With the sword of Omnipotence pledged for thine aid,
And his arm strengthening thine, wilt thou still be afraid?
O, doth Barak—dost thou, Abinoam's brave son—
Not believe what the Lord hath declared shall be done?”
“I will go, if wilt thou; but if not,” saith the chief,
“I remain!” for there 's still at his heart unbelief.
“Yea, I go, then,” saith Deborah; “yet shall there be,
From the journey thou takest, no honor for thee.
For the Lord will sell Sisera into the hand
Of a woman! But, up! and obey his command!”
He retires,—he hath gathered his army and staff,
Who shall sweep off the foe, as the wind sweepeth chaff;
For the breath of the Lord is before them to go;
And the mighty must vanish, if on them it blow!
With the Prophetess-Judge for their guidance and light,
Do they wind their way up to the hoar mountain height.
By the river below them is Sisera shown,
With his vast serried forces, like grass to be mown:

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And, the moment announced, on their God do they call;
Then, adown on the foe, as a lightning-shaft, fall;
Where the whole Gentile hosts, overspreading the vale,
'T is for this day of wrath to lay powerless and pale!
But the scene, with its horrors, what eye can survey,
When an army like this in their sins melt away?
From the field, wild and wounded, in mêlée they rush,
To the stream, where the waters leap up with a blush,
Or emit their red foam, heaving high o'er their bank,
From the carnage they take, and the blood they have drank.
But the chief,—where is he? Where did Sisera fleet,
Who, the last left alive, “fled away on his feet”?
To the Plain Zaanaim. Affrighted he went,
Like a partridge ensnared, into Heber's cool tent:
And the wife of the Kenite hath driven the blow,—
By “the hand of a woman” his head is laid low!
Hark! the notes of thanksgiving in anthems arise,
Swelling clear, over vale, stream, and mount, to the skies!
It is Deborah, singing with Barak the song,—
Which the saints in all ages shall catch and prolong,—
Of the power, love, and justice of Israel's God,
Who hath chastened his children, and burnt up the rod!
 

Deborah signifies a bee.

Barak signifies lightning.