PART SECOND.

SARAH, alone.

Who will have pity on me? Who will tell me
How my son fares? Servants and shepherds forth
I have sent on every side, and none returns.
Alas! belike for pity each avoids me ;

Belike already in his father's hands

He hath breathed out his innocent soul. Ah me!
Of all I love, there is none to comfort me.
Mine eyes do fill with tears, my strength dries up.
My heart is turned within me, while I look,
And there is none to help. Whither shall I turn?
How doth the house sit solitary; once

So full of people, busy and rejoicing;

The ways do mourn; the gates are desolate ;
The flocks in vain for their lost keeper seek;
Wandering they go, without their wonted guide.
The shepherd smitten, scattered are the sheep!
But one at least of such a multitude,

One only-Ha! behold one. I will seek him,
I will demand, but my heart fails. I dread
To hear his answer. Wherefore do they come
Thus in disorder? Where is Abraham?

What have ye witnessed? God support me! speak!

SARAH. GAMARI. Shepherds.

Sar. Oh speak! your silence is to me
More cruel than your words can be!

Forbear-your tidings I have read;
Say not to me- -"thy son is dead!"

Yes-on the altar-stone I know

Ere this his precious blood must flow:
'Tis in my heart, and in my brain,

The knife with which my son was slain !

Gam. 'Tis not through my own fault, that I return So tardily from doing thy commands.

Know

Sar. Ah! I know it all-already; all, I know, Gamari. I have no more a son. Isaac is dead.

Gam. How? When myself beheld him Even now, at Mount Moriah's foot.

Sar. Ha! then

Does he yet live? Dost thou not mock me?

Gam. Soon

Thou shalt embrace him.

Sar. Everlasting God!

Has then my sorrow moved thee to compassion?
Can thy command be altered or revoked?

What victim, then, was offered to the Lord?

Gam. By this time, or I err, the sacrifice Must be complete; but when I parted thence, It was not.

Sar. Was not yet? What then detained Abraham at the mountain's foot so long?

Gam. Me too this much amazed, nor did I dare

Nearer approach, the cause of their delay
To ask. Perhaps he waited for a sign

From heaven. For suddenly, towards the mountain
I marked him going, with firm steps. He left us
All on the plain. He bore the sacred fire

In one hand; in the other was the knife-
Sar. And Isaac?

Gam. Isaac, meek and lowly went,

Bending beneath the burden of hewn boughs,
Bound up, a cumbrous load, with weary steps
Up the steep pathway following.

Sar. Ah, how often

Am I to die this day!

Gam. When my dear Lord,

Wearied and toiling like a bondsman thus
I saw, what love, what sorrow filled my heart!
Beneath his heavy load, at every step,

I dreaded to behold him sink opprest.

I felt that heavy load weigh down my

soul,

And so much of his agony on that mount

I felt, that even yet upon my brow

Thick stands the sweat that anguish wrung from me.

Sar. In pity, from thy sad detail forbear,

Nor fret the deep wounds of my soul.

Gam. Behold

Abraham is returning.

Sar. Woe is me!

The sacrifice is then complete.

Gam. Of a certainty

'Tis finished. And in Abraham's right hand

The knife yet drips with blood.

Sar. Oh! let me fly

The cruel sight.

SARAH. ABRAHAM. ISAAC. GAMARI. Shepherds, &c.

Is. Mother!

Ab. Wife!

Is. Whither goest thou?
Ab. Whom dost thou fly?
Sar. Isaac! Almighty God!
Do I dream. Is it thyself?

Is. Mother, 'tis I.

I came to bring thee peace.

To thine embrace

Again I come. God has unlocked for us

The treasures of his grace.

Sar. My son!

Is. Thou art faint.

Sar. My son! alas, I die!

Ab. Support her, Isaac.

Is. Alas! that deadly paleness-these cold drops-
Ab. Be not cast down nor troubled, oh, my son!
Of great and sudden joy the effect thou seest,
Is no unwonted issue.
Brief repose

Her o'erfraught soul requires, that to herself
And certainty of peace she may return.

Is. How is it that a soul, which could bear up
Unyielding against evils numberless,

One happy moment thus can quite o'erpower?
Ab. Grief wears, my son, a known familiar face,
While joy is ever but a transient guest.

Cast on a sea of care and pain,

Where storms for ever rage,

Man learns from childhood to sustain
Sorrow, his heritage.

So rarely Good his portion is,

The smile of Joy so rare,

The glad surprise of sudden bliss

He never learns to bear!

Gam. Lo! Sarah breathes again; and on the light Her eyelids are re-opened.

Sar. Abraham!

Isaac!

Can it be true.

Is. Yes. Oh my mother!

Thou art in Isaac's arms.

Sar. Thy name be blessed

Oh Lord most merciful! now and for ever!

But Abraham, how

Ab. Hearken thou, and adore

Infinite goodness. On the instant when

I lifted up mine eyes, and afar off

Beheld the place the Lord revealed to me,
Straightway I arose; and to the appointed hill,
With my son only, following near at hand,

And with a heart whose throbbings thou mayst guess,
Went forward. On the journey Isaac spake,

Saying, Father, behold here the fire and wood,
But where the lamb for a burnt-offering?

Sadly I answered, meeting not his eye,