But this I know, that virtues holy
Are brightened by contrasting folly,
And constant courage best was shown
When persecutors had the throne,
And columns high had ne'er been reared,
Had no invading foe appeared;
And when to desperate straits we're brought,
Then God's deliverance is wrought.
When Judah by the Gentile arms
Had seen th' extreme of war's alarms,
O'erthrown her temple and her city,
Her children slaughtered without pity;
The demon conqueror intended
Her name and fame should both be ended.
He thought one dreadful, dire example
Of horrid torture might be ample,
Now that Jehovah'd them forsaken
And from his folk his flight had taken.
One matron from the drove he chooses,
Her seven sons he also looses;
In public presence will them test,
To answer his supreme behest.
The eldest, he him sets before;
"Now, bending down, our gods adore."
"The Lord forbid," he reverent cries;
"His holy law such act denies.
I to no image-neither thee-
Shall kiss the hand nor bend the knee."
His life made forfeit then was taken-
His trust in Israel's God unshaken.
The next that sacred household cherished, Who witnessed how his brother perished, At once responded: "Shall I less
Than his my faith in God confess?
I love God's law-its second word
Is none but he is Israel's Lord."
And so he died for truth and faith.
The third, undaunted, also saith:
"None but Jehovah worship I"—
And likewise he was drawn to die.
The fourth the traitor's awful doom
Sets forth: "Who in Jehovah's room
Shall worship hero, god or demon"-
His young life, too, the sword makes claim on.
"Our God is one," the Scripture saith,
“And him alone I'll own in death.'
So died the fifth; our watchword brave
Fresh courage to the next one gave:
"Jehovah-terrible is he
Who, Israel, dwells in midst of thee;
He may his awful plans conceal,
But in his time he'll them reveal."
So passed the youthful sixth, in dying,
"Jehovah, take me," meekly sighing.
Assuming now a tender mien
The tyrant pleads: "My boy, you've seen
How vain it is to trust in one
Who utmost unconcern has shown.
'Tis only to respect our law-
I'd put your countrymen in awe;
For Rome, supreme, must be obeyed—
Nor gods nor emperor gainsaid.
The test from thee's a simple thing-
In front of Jove I'll drop my ring,
Stoop down and pick it up; no thought
Of inferential change is wrought."
The bright-cheeked boy, his eyes upturned,
The tyrant's seeming mercy spurned;
His soul kept free from heathen stains
Breaks forth in rapt prophetic strains:
"Forever reigns our glorious Lord-
Performed shall be his faithful word;
His kingdom raised, while ruined thine
He'll to oblivion consign.
As chastened Israel suffers now,
So shall he purer offerings vow.
His faith in days that have gone by
Endear him to his God most high,
And future glories wait the day
When all mankind shall own his sway;
"But thou might'st save thy soul if He
Were but to show His power to thee."
He thus to Chaldea's king made known
His sovereign Lord and God alone.
The prostrate king the word obeyed
And favor found and humbly prayed.
To God's own folk he mercy showed
And so was blessed in his abode;
But thou, nor truth nor mercy giving,
Are but for greater vengeance living.
"To death!" the raging tyrant cries.
Prevention weak the mother tries,
With arms enfolding makes her plea:
"O let him not be torn from me-
My seventh, my last, my life, my all!
On me let first thy vengeance fall.
Sword, come on me, nor let me see
The death of one so dear to me!"
"Nay, nay," the scoffer made reply,
"Your law forbids that you should die;
'Ye dare not slay the dam that day
Ye take the offspring's life away.'
"Thou scourge of man, thou hand of God!
Thy sins thy guilty soul shall load,
Till down to depths thou shalt be driven,
Transcending all that fell from heaven.
But go, my son, when Abra'm thou
In blissful peace shalt meet, avow
Superior reverence to me-
For I gave seven, but one gave he―
But tempted was his faith when tried,
See mine performed-my Isaacs died.
"What shall I add?" Her reason flown,
Why should she linger here alone-
Wandering unguarded, heedless, fell
She whom her Lord had honored well.
Has Judah now no valiant dame
That might such awful honors claim?
For answer: In my northern home
You'll see, ere wintry weather come,
The fields the cheery flowers adorn,
Bejeweled bright at early morn;
Then fierce the driving, biting storm-
Will bare the meads of every form
That spring and summer spread around
So lavish on the fertile ground.
But brightly then the heather bell
Purple the hills I love so well.
When dangerous foxgloves, crimson clover
Lie hid till winter storms are over;
The bloom upon the Arcadian hills
Is blown by that which verdure kills.
If Judah's winter comes again,
Her hero dames shall bloom amain.
Song of Judas Maccabeus Before the Battle of Maspha
ON, warriors and chiefs! every step we have trod, Though blood-stained with carnage and heaped with the slain,
Bear witness we fight for the glory of God,
Whose aid we have asked, nor entreated in vain.
Attest it your armies, whose glittering array
At noonday outshown in his splendor the sun,
Attest it ye proud girded warriors, who lay
Unhonored and cold when the battle was done.
They came to subdue us, Oh, God of the just!
Thy arm was our shield, Thy protection our power,
Still aid and defend us, Oh, Thou whom we trust,
In prosperity's pride and affliction's dark hour.
When we cease to remember the martyrs, whose blood
They have poured out like water, may we be forgot;
When we cease to remember the fierce pangs they
withstood,
May our strength be derided, our memory a blot.
Oh, falter not when their fierce glittering host Comes spreading destruction and blight o'er the land;
Remember proud Syrian, how vain was his boast, And firm be your hearts like the rocks where you stand.
Then on! can ye waver when Heaven's pure light Smiles approvingly down on the path we have trod? On! on! be it victory or death! ere the night
We have conquered or died for the glory of God. REBEKAH HYNEMAN.
The Miraculous Oil
LITTLE cruet in the Temple
That dost feed the sacrificial flame,
What a true expressive symbol
Art thou of my race, of Israel's fame!
Thou for days the oil didst furnish
To illume the Temple won from foe
So for centuries in my people
Spirit of resistance ne'er burnt low.
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