THE DAUGHTER OF JEPHTHAH AMONG THE MOUNTAINS.

Night bent o'er the mountains

With aspect serene;

The deep waters slept

‘ Neath the moon's pallid sheen,

And the stars in their courses

Moved noiseless on high,

As a soul, when it cleaveth

In thought the blue sky.

The low winds were spent

With the fever of day,

And stirred scarce a leaf

Of the green wood's array;

And the white, fleecy clouds

Hovered light on the air,

Like an angel's wing, bent

For a penitent prayer.

Sleep hushed in the city

The tumult and strife,

And calmed in the spirit

The unrest of life:

But one, where Mount Lebanon

Lifted its snow,

Slumbered not till the morn

Wakened earth with its glow.

Beneath the dark cedars,

Majestic, sublime,

That for ages had mocked

Both at tempest and Time,

In whose tops the wild eagle

His eyrie had made,

She knelt with pale cheek

In the damp, mossy glade.

The small hands were folded

In worship divine,

And the silent leaves thrilled.

In that lone forest shrine,

With the voice of the pleader,

That, earnest and low,

Was sad as the sea-shell's

And plaintive with woe.

She prayed not for life,

Though Youth's early bloom

Glowed on her fair cheek,

And recoiled from the tomb;

But a heart pure and strong,

Sublimed by its pain,—

A spirit attuned

To the seraph's bright strain.

She saw not the dark boughs

That, spectral and hoar,

With lattice-work rude

Arched her wide temple o'er;

She marked not their shadows

Gigantic and dim;

Her soul was communing

In triumph with Him;—

With the Ancient of Days,

Who from mercy-seat high

Beheld the pale pleader

With vigilant eye;

And Peace with white pinion

Came down from His throne,

And the gleam of her wing

On that fair forehead shone.

O Thou that upholdest

The feeble and frail,

And leadest the pilgrim

Through Life's narrow vale!

When the days that are measured

My spirit below

Shall have ceased to the past

From the future to flow,—

May the Summoner find me

As placid and strong,

As meet for endurance

Of agony long,

With a faith as divine

And vision as clear,

As the watchers who wept

On the hills of Judæa!