WHEN Deborah the prophetess ruled in God’s land,
And Sisera died under Jael’s fierce hand,
His mother looked forth at the close of the day,
When the roar of the war died in silence away:
And she cried, “Still his charriot tarries afar!
Are its wheels clogged about with the slaughter of war?”
And her damsels made answer, “Awhile yet they stay
To trample the fallen, dividing the prey.”
Day shut, and the stars that had doomed him to death
Rushed out, while to listen she pent in her breath;
But the sound of his chariot over the plain
Like a far roll of thunder, came never again.