Weep, weep not, thou knight of faith by torment
or despair. The sacrifice desired
at Moriah–by thy god required–
exhalts thee to a throne beyond lament.
Transcend the Law, and by obedient
action, leap the chasm where Hell is fired;
tread the highway, which by god inspired,
guides thee to thy heavenly endowment.
Now Hell hath opened wide its gaping door,
and doubt hath pierced both father and the son;
Moriah is a holy mount no more–
the ram upon its slopes is free to run.
Cries Abram, by his son’s blood now reviled,
“My god, my god, has let me kill my child.”
(This is an old sonnet I wrote back in my undergraduate years, maybe 1990?)