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42

SONG OF TRIUMPH

I Samuel xvii. 52

Prepare! your festal rites prepare!
Let your triumphs rend the air!
Idol gods shall reign no more;

We the living God adore!

Let heathen hosts on human helps repose,
Since Israel's God has routed Israel's foes.

Let remotest nations know
Proud Goliath's overthrow.
Fallen, Philistia, is thy trust;
Dagon mingles with the dust!

Who fears the Lord of Glory need not fear
The brazen armor or the lifted spear.

See, the routed squadrons fly!

Hark! their clamors rend the sky!

Blood and carnage stain the field!

See! the vanquished nations yield!

Dismay and terror fill the frightened land,

While conquering David routs the trembling band.

Lo, upon the tented field,

Royal Saul has thousands killed!

Lo, upon th'ensanguined plain,

David has ten thousand slain!

Let mighty Saul his vanquished thousands tell,
While tenfold triumphs David's victories swell!

HANNAH MORE

43

SONG OF VICTORY FOR THE DEATH OF GOLIATH

Strike with joy the wild harp's string,

God, O Israel, is your King!

We have slain our deadliest foe;
David's arm hath laid him low.

Saul hath oft his thousands slain,
His trophies have bedecked the plain;
But David's tens of thousands lie
On fields of battle, mounted high.

Sound the trumpet, strike the string,
Loud let the song of victory ring;
Wreathe with glory David's brow,-
He hath laid Goliath low.

Mark him on yon crimson plain;
He is conquered, he is slain;
He who lately rose so high,-
Scoffed at man, and braved the sky.

Strike with joy the wild harp's string,
God, O Israel, is your King!

We have slain our deadliest foe;
David's arm hath laid him low.

LUCRETIA DAVIDSON

44

THE MEETING OF DAVID AND JONATHAN

I Samuel xviii. 1-3

All day the battle raged. Ere eventide
Came Abner to the tent of Saul, and cried:
"Would'st thou this eve, O king, behold the boy
Whose single arm turned Israel's grief to joy?"
"Yea," spake the king. So Abner bowed and went
Forth to the sunlight from the shadowy tent;
And on his spear leaned Jonathan to greet,
With Saul, the coming of victorious feet.

A little space was silence, while the king
Bowed his huge forehead black and pondering;
But Jonathan, with eager eyes, afire

Because of this great deed, in strong desire

Gazed at the tent-door. Then a sound was heard
Of one who swiftly ran, yet scarcely stirred
The withered grass on the parched sward without:
And far away thundered the people's shout.

The curtain rose: in poured the ruddy sun
Sphering a slender stripling, dim and dun
Amid that glory, like an olive-tree
High on a hilltop you can hardly see
For all the fire behind it. Round his hair,
Flaming like gold, God set the golden glare—
A coronal whereof the radiance smote
Saul's eyes; and in the centre, like a mote,
Swam the sweet boy's face, marvellously wan
With wonder and with awe for thinking on

The miracle his sling and stone had wrought;
Since now the deed was grown a thing for thought
To feed on, much he pondered how the Lord
Had stayed him, trusting not to spear or sword.
Yea, in his hand the hideous bulk he swung,
With shattered forehead, and with stiffening tongue
Thrust through those spasm-tortured lips of death,
Seemed like a shape of dreams that vanisheth
When we awake, and lo, the morn is new
O'er field and forest in the birth of dew.

The curtain fell behind him. Then he stood
In twilight at the knees of Saul, whose mood
Was troubled. Next he knelt, and laid the head,
Tawny with tangled hair, with death-drops red,
Prone neath the monarch's stool; then raised his
eyes.

Like stars forth-leaning from the western skies
That still hold daylight, wonderful and dim,
They caught the souls of those that gazed at him.
Saul loved him: but in Jonathan was stirred
More love than Saul's soul held; yet not one word
As yet was spoken. Then the monarch cried,
"Whose son art thou, thou young man?" He re-
plied,

"I am thy servant Jesse's son, who dwell

At Bethlehem."-As some still mountain well

Is silvered on its surface by the slow
Arising of the full moon orbed and low,
From star-set peaks impendent, so the tone
Of that melodious voice, thrilling alone

Through the tent's stillness, changed the yearning

deep

Within the breast of Jonathan, and sleep

Fell from his soul. A man by love new-made,
His every hope upon the heart was laid
Of Jesse's son. Then, as he bent and burned,
The eyes of David on his eyes were turned;
And in that moment their twin lives became
The single splendor of one fiery flame,

Shooting from sundered brands to blend the might
Of married fires, and leap aloft with light.

JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS

45

DAVID'S LAMENT

Let the voice of the mourner be heard on the mountain,

And woe breathe her sigh over Besor's blue wave; Upon Gilboa's hill there is opened a fountain,

And its fast-flowing stream is the blood of the brave!

Oh! dry be that hill from the rains of the morning,
On its brow may no dew of the evening fall,
But the warriors of Israel, from conquest returning,
View herbless and withered the death-place of

Saul!

From the borders of Judah let gladness be banished, Ye maidens of Israel, be deep in your woe;

For the pride of the mighty in battle is vanished,

The chief of the sword, and the lord of the bow.

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