O'erheard this speech, and asked "What chucklest at?" 'Would, to appease Him, cut a finger off, Or of my three kid yearlings burn the best, Decrepit may doze, doze, as good as die. [What, what? A curtain o'er the world at once! There scuds His raven that hath told Him all! A tree's head snaps—and there, there, there, there, there, 'Maketh his teeth meet through his upper lip, SAUL. I SAID Abner, "At last thou art come! Ere I tell, ere thou speak, "Kiss my cheek, wish me well!" Then I wished it, and did kiss his cheek. S And he, "Since the King, O my friend, for thy countenance sent, "Neither drunken nor eaten have we ; nor until from his tent "Thou return with the joyful assurance the King liveth yet, "Shall our lip with the honey be bright, with the water be wet. "For out of the black mid-tent's silence, a space of three days, "Not a sound hath escaped to thy servants, of prayer nor of praise, "To betoken that Saul and the Spirit have ended their strife, "And that, faint in his triumph, the monarch sinks back upon life. II "Yet now my heart leaps, O beloved! God's child with his dew "On thy gracious gold hair, and those lilies still living and blue "Just broken to twine round thy harp-strings, as if no wild heat "Were now raging to torture the desert!" III Then I, as was meet, Knelt down to the God of my fathers, and rose on my feet, And ran o'er the sand burnt to powder. The tent was unlooped; I pulled up the spear that obstructed, and under I stooped; Hands and knees on the slippery grass-patch, all withered and gone, That extends to the second enclosure, I groped my way on Till I felt where the foldskirts fly open. Then once more I prayed, And opened the foldskirts and entered, and was not afraid But spoke, "Here is David, thy servant!" And no voice replied. At the first I saw nought but the blackness: but soon I descried A something more black than the blackness-the vast, the upright Main prop which sustains the pavilion and slow into sight Grew a figure against it, gigantic and blackest of all. Then a sunbeam, that burst thro' the tent-roof, showed Saul. IV He stood as erect as that tent-prop, both arms stretched out wide On the great cross-support in the centre, that goes to each side; He relaxed not a muscle, but hung there as, caught in his pangs And waiting his change, the king serpent all heavily hangs, Far away from his kind, in the pine, till deliverance come With the spring-time,—so agonized Saul, drear and stark, blind and dumb. V Then I tuned my harp,—took off the lilies we twine round its chords Lest they snap 'neath the stress of the noontide-those sunbeams like swords! And I first played the tune all our sheep know, as, one after one, So docile they come to the pen-door till folding be done. They are white and untorn by the bushes, for lo, they have fed Where the long grasses stifle the water within the stream's bed; And now one after one seeks its lodging, as star follows star Into eve and the blue far above us,-so blue and so far! VI -Then the tune, for which quails on the cornland will each leave his mate To fly after the player; then, what makes the crickets elate Till for boldness they fight one another and then, what has weight To set the quick jerboa a-musing outside his sand houseThere are none such as he for a wonder, half bird and half mouse ! God made all the creatures and gave them our love and our fear, To give sign, we and they are his children, one family here. VII Then I played the help-tune of our reapers, their winesong, when hand Grasps at hand, eye lights eye in good friendship, and great hearts expand And grow one in the sense of this world's life.—And then, the last song When the dead man is praised on his journey—“ Bear, bear him along "With his few faults shut up like dead flowerets! Are balm-seeds not here "To console us? The land has none left such as he on the bier. “Oh, would we might keep thee, my brother!"—And then, the glad chaunt Of the marriage,-first go the young maidens, next, she whom we vaunt As the beauty, the pride of our dwelling.—And then, the great march Wherein man runs to man to assist him and buttress an arch Nought can break; who shall harm them, our friends?— Then, the chorus intoned As the levites go up to the altar in glory enthroned. But I stopped here: for here in the darkness Saul groaned. VIII And I paused, held my breath in such silence, and listened apart; And the tent shook, for mighty Saul shuddered: and sparkles 'gan dart From the jewels that woke in his turban, at once with a start All its lordly male-sapphires, and rubies courageous at heart. So the head: but the body still moved not, still hung there erect. And I bent once again to my playing, pursued it un checked, As I sang, IX "Oh, our manhood's prime vigour! No spirit feels waste, "Not a muscle is stopped in its playing nor sinew un braced. "Oh, the wild joys of living! the leaping from rock up to rock, |