 | Original Poems and Translations |  |
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THE SONG of DEBORAH.
Lend, O ye princes, to my song an ear,
Ye mighty rulers of the nations, hear,
While to the Lord the notes of praise I sing,
To Israel's God, the everlasting king.
Ye mighty rulers of the nations, hear,
While to the Lord the notes of praise I sing,
To Israel's God, the everlasting king.
When from aerial Seir, in dread array,
From Edom when th' Almighty took his way,
‘On Cherub, and on Cherubim he rode,’
The trembling earth proclaim'd th' approach of God:
The heavens dissolv'd, the clouds in copious rains
Pour'd their blackstores, and delug'd all the plains:
The rent rocks shiver'd on that awful day,
And mountains melted like soft wax away.
From Edom when th' Almighty took his way,
‘On Cherub, and on Cherubim he rode,’
The trembling earth proclaim'd th' approach of God:
The heavens dissolv'd, the clouds in copious rains
Pour'd their blackstores, and delug'd all the plains:
The rent rocks shiver'd on that awful day,
And mountains melted like soft wax away.
In Shamgar's days, in Jael's hapless reign,
How were the princes, and the people slain?
When Sisera, terrific with his hosts,
Pour'd dire destruction on pale Judah's coasts;
The cities no inhabitants contain'd;
The public ways unoccupied remain'd;
The travellers thro' dreary deserts stray'd,
Or pensive wander'd in the lonely glade,
Till, sent by heaven, I Deborah arose
To rule and rescue Israel from their foes.
How were the princes, and the people slain?
When Sisera, terrific with his hosts,
Pour'd dire destruction on pale Judah's coasts;
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The public ways unoccupied remain'd;
The travellers thro' dreary deserts stray'd,
Or pensive wander'd in the lonely glade,
Till, sent by heaven, I Deborah arose
To rule and rescue Israel from their foes.
Those patriot warriors of immortal fame,
Who sav'd their country all my favour claim:
Ye judges speak, ye shepherd-swains rehearse
Jehovah's praise in never-dying verse.
Awake, awake; raise, Deborah, thy voice,
And in loud numbers bid the lyre rejoice:
Raise to the Lord of heaven thy grateful song,
Who gave the weak dominion o'er the strong.
Who sav'd their country all my favour claim:
Ye judges speak, ye shepherd-swains rehearse
Jehovah's praise in never-dying verse.
Awake, awake; raise, Deborah, thy voice,
And in loud numbers bid the lyre rejoice:
Raise to the Lord of heaven thy grateful song,
Who gave the weak dominion o'er the strong.
The tribes of Israel sent their mighty men,
That wield the falchion, or that guide the pen.
Gilead, Oh shame! by fountful Jordan lay,
Dan in his ships, and Asher in his bay:
Their bleating flocks (ignoble care!) withheld
The tribes of Reuben from the tented field:
But chiefs intrepid to the conflict came,
Heroes that fought for empire and for fame:
In Taanach where Megiddo's streams are roll'd,
There fought the monarchs resolutely bold.
Heav'n's thunders to our foes destruction wrought,
The stars 'gainst Sisera conspiring fought.
The river Kishon swept away the slain,
Kishon, that antient river, to the main.
For ever bless'd be Jael's honour'd name!
For ever written in the rolls of fame!
He ask'd refreshment from the limpid wave,
The milky beverage to the chief she gave:
He drank, he slept extended on the floor,
She smote the warrior, and he wak'd no more:
Low at her feet he bow'd his nail-pierc'd head;
Low at her feet he bow'd, he fell, he lay down dead.
That wield the falchion, or that guide the pen.
Gilead, Oh shame! by fountful Jordan lay,
Dan in his ships, and Asher in his bay:
Their bleating flocks (ignoble care!) withheld
The tribes of Reuben from the tented field:
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Heroes that fought for empire and for fame:
In Taanach where Megiddo's streams are roll'd,
There fought the monarchs resolutely bold.
Heav'n's thunders to our foes destruction wrought,
The stars 'gainst Sisera conspiring fought.
The river Kishon swept away the slain,
Kishon, that antient river, to the main.
For ever bless'd be Jael's honour'd name!
For ever written in the rolls of fame!
He ask'd refreshment from the limpid wave,
The milky beverage to the chief she gave:
He drank, he slept extended on the floor,
She smote the warrior, and he wak'd no more:
Low at her feet he bow'd his nail-pierc'd head;
Low at her feet he bow'd, he fell, he lay down dead.
The hero's mother, anxious for his stay,
Thus, fondly sighing, chid his long delay:
‘What hopes, what fears my tortur'd bosom feels?
‘Alas! why linger thus his chariot-wheels?
‘Some captive maid, distinguish'd for her charms,
‘Perchance detains the conqueror in her arms:
‘Perchance his mules, rich laden from afar,
‘Move slowly with the plunder of the war.’
Thus, fondly sighing, chid his long delay:
‘What hopes, what fears my tortur'd bosom feels?
‘Alas! why linger thus his chariot-wheels?
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‘Perchance detains the conqueror in her arms:
‘Perchance his mules, rich laden from afar,
‘Move slowly with the plunder of the war.’
Ah, wretched mother! all thy hopes are vain,
Thy son, alas! lies breathless on the plain,
Vanquish'd by Israel's sons, and by a woman slain.
Thy son, alas! lies breathless on the plain,
Vanquish'd by Israel's sons, and by a woman slain.
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