25. XXV.
The solemn strain was finished, and in a style of
beauty not more remarkable for its exquisite simplicity
than for its exquisite harmony. Thyrza had been educated
chiefly by her father, and had acquired, as much
from his as from her own spirit, no small portion of that
lofty and high-souled enthusiasm which made up so much
of his character. Glowing with the rich exuberance of
excited religious feeling, when the performer turned
from her seat to look upon the old man, she beheld him
upon his knees—his eyes lifted to heaven, and the sentiment
of prayer deeply written upon every feature of his
face. She glided to him softly, and knelt down quietly,
without a word, beside him. He acknowledged her
presence with a start, then clasping her to his arms,
thanked her for her performance, and gave her his parting
blessing for the night.
“Now go to thy chamber, my child—take thy sleep,
and may the God of Abraham watch over and keep thee
from harm. Good-night!”
She murmured a similar aspiration, and left him.
The old man again sank back into prayerful musing,
for his mood was eminently devotional, though his pursuits
all his life had been wild, and many of his more
vigorous years had been spent in unprofitable strife.
“When, oh, when shall Thy people now pass out from
their bondage? When wilt Thou come to their aid, O
Thou, whose arm shook the waters over Pharaoh, and
humbled the hosts of the Philistines! Oh, wouldst
thou endow me, for their good, in this great service—
wouldst thou smile upon my hope—wouldst thou give
strength to our warriors, and fortune to this our enterprise,
then would thy servant gladly lay down his own
life, happy in the sacrifice that brought with it so great
a profit.”
He arose at length from his knees, placed a keen
dagger in his girdle, and wrapping himself closely in
his mantle, went forth into the city.
