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Jeptha's Daughter

Language: English

Since our Country, our God -- Oh, my Sire! 
Demand that thy Daughter expire; 
Since thy triumph was brought by thy vow -- 
Strike the bosom that's bared for thee now! 

And the voice of my mourning is o'er, 
And the mountains behold me no more: 
If the hand that I love lay me low, 
There cannot be pain in the blow! 

And of this, oh, my Father! be sure -- 
That the blood of thy child is as pure 
As the blessing I beg ere it flow, 
And the last thought that soothes me below. 

Though the virgins of Salem lament, 
Be the judge and the hero unbent! 
I have won the great battle for thee, 
And my Father and Country are free! 

When this blood of thy giving hath gush'd, 
When the voice that thou lovest is hush'd, 
Let my memory still be thy pride, 
And forget not I smiled as I died!

Translation(s): FRE GER GER GER RUS

List of language codes

Submitted by Emily Ezust [Administrator]


Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

Settings in other languages, adaptations, or excerpts:

Other available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

Text added to the website: 2003-11-10 00:00:00.

Last modified: 2018-01-07 15:09:21

Line count: 20
Word count: 152

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La fille de Jephté

Language: French (Français) after the English

Puisque notre patrie et notre Dieu. -- Ô mon père --
demandent que ta fille expire ;
puisque tu achetas ton triomphe au prix de ce vœu, --
frappe le sein que maintenant je te découvre moi-même.

La voix de mon deuil est désormais muette,
les montagnes ne me reverront plus :
si la main que j'aime me précipite dans la tombe,
ah! je reçois le coup sans douleur.

Et sois bien sûr, oh! mon père, --
que le sang de ta fille est aussi pur
que la bénédiction que j'implore avant qu'il ne soit versé ;
aussi pur que la dernière pensée qui adoucit mon trépas.

Malgré les lamentations des vierges de Jérusalem,
sois un juge, un héros inflexible !
j'ai gagné pour toi une grande victoire; par moi,
mon père et mon pays sont libres.

Quand ce sang que tu as dévoué aura arrosé la terre,
quand la voix que tu aimes sera muette,
puisse mon souvenir faire toujours ton orgueil !
N'oublie pas que j'ai souri en mourant !

Submitted by Guy Laffaille [Guest Editor]


Based on

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

    [ None yet in the database ]

Text added to the website: 2012-01-15 00:00:00.

Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:04:45

Line count: 20
Word count: 168