Abraham took Isaacs hand and led him to that lonesome hill.
While his daughter hid and watched, she dared not breathe.
She was so still.
Just as an angel cried for the slaughter, Abrahams daughter raised her voice.
Then the angel asked her what her name was, she said, I have none.
Then he asked, How can this be?
My father never gave me one.
And with his sword up, raised for the slaughter, Abrahams daughter raised her bow.
How darest you child defy your father?
You better let young Isaac go.