HATH he not followed a star through the darkness, <br />Ye people who sit at the table of Jephthah? <br />Oh! turn with the face to a light in the mountains, <br />Behold it is further from Achan than ever! <br />“I know how it is with my brothers in Mizpeh,” <br />Said Achan, the swift-footed runner of Zorah, <br />“They look at the wood they have hewn for the altar; <br />And think of a shadow in sackcloth and ashes. <br /> <br />“I know how it is with the daughter of Jephthah, <br />(O Ada, my love, and the fairest of women!) <br />She wails in the time when her heart is so zealous <br />For God who hath stricken the children of Ammon. <br /> <br />“I said I would bring her the odours of Edom, <br />And armfuls of spices to set at the banquet! <br />Behold I have fronted the chieftain her father; <br />And strong men have wept for the leader of thousands! <br /> <br />“My love is a rose of the roses of Sharon, <br />All lonely and bright as the Moon in the myrtles! <br />Her lips, like to honeycombs, fill with the sweetness <br />That Achan the thirsty is hindered from drinking. <br /> <br />“Her women have wept for the love that is wasted <br />Like wine, which is spilt when the people are wanting, <br />And hot winds have dried all the cisterns of Elim! <br />For love that is wasted her women were wailing! <br /> <br />“The timbrels fall silent! And dost thou not hear it, <br />A voice, like the sound of a lute when we loiter, <br />And sit by the pools in the valleys of Arnon, <br />And suck the cool grapes that are growing in clusters? <br /> <br />“She glides, like a myrrh-scented wind, through the willows, <br />O Ada! behold it is Achan that speaketh: <br />I know thou art near me, but never can see thee, <br />Because of the horrible drouth in mine eyelids.”<br /><br />Henry Kendall<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/achan/
