And gazed upon the dark pall steadfastly, Of David entered, and he gave command And left him with the dead. The king stood still "Alas! my noble boy! that thou should'st die! And leave his stillness in this clustering hair! How could he mark thee for the silent tomb? My proud boy, Absalom! "Cold is thy brow, my son! and I am chill, As to my bosom I have tried to press thee; How was I wont to feel my pulses thrill, 6 Like a rich harp-string, yearning to caress thee And hear thy sweet My Father' from those dumb And cold lips, Absalom! But death is on thee. I shall hear the gush And life will pass me in the mantling blush, "And oh, when I am stricken, and my heart, Like a bruised reed, is waiting to be broken, How will its love for thee, as I depart, Yearn for thine ear to drink its last deep token! It were so sweet, amid death's gathering gloom, To see thee, Absalom! "And now, farewell! 'Tis hard to give thee up— With death so like a slumber on thee And thy dark sin!--Oh! could I drink the cup, If from this woe its bitterness had won thee. He covered up his face, and bowed himself NATHANIEL P. WILLIS 51 RIZPAH II Samuel xxi. 9-10 It is growing dark. At such a sunset I have been with Saul, 66 God save the king!" But, hush! what noise was that? Oh, Heaven! to think a mother's eyes should look O sweet twin treasure of my lonely life, I have no tears to shed. O God! my heart is broken! Let me die! Gilboa! David wrote a song upon it, Poor blackened lips! My pretty children Here is your father; say I wonder if they dream, Come, Mephibosheth, God save the king!” The Gibeonites! Ah! that was long ago. Why should they die for what they never did? Whose son is he, this youth? Dost know him, Ha, ha! they shout again "God save the king!" Was I asleep? I came not here to sleep. О poor old eyes, sorrow has made you weak. My sons! No, naught has touched them. O, how cold! Cold, cold! O stars of God, have pity on me, Poor, lonely woman! O my sons, Saul's sons! JOHN READE 52 THE SONG OF DAVID II Samuel xxii He sang of God, the mighty source Commences, reigns, and ends. The world, the clustering spheres He made, Dale, champaign, grove, and hill, The multitudinous abyss, Where secrecy remains in bliss, And wisdom hides her skill. Tell them I am, Jehovah said At once, above, beneath, around, CHRISTOPHER SMART |