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