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Sisera
7
The lordly dish of butter, and the nail;
The hammer in the nervous hand of Jael;
The blow which crashed through temple and through brain.
A sheet of summer lightning, and red rain
Across the sleeper's sight. A sense of pain
But scarce begun ere sense and senses fail.
The sand-fed sun, low-lying on the lands;
The tent door curtained where a woman stands,
And the unspoken: 'This is whom you seek.'
The song of praise: 'The battle to the weak.
Praise ye the Lord, who hath upheld the meek.
The Lord who stayeth Israel in His hands.'
