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"Shall decay, nor be known in their place, while the palm-wine shall staunch

"Every wound of man's spirit in winter. I pour thee such wine.

"Leave the flesh to the fate it was fit for the spirit be thine!

66 By the spirit, when age shall o'ercome thee, thou still shalt enjoy

"More indeed, than at first when, inconscious, the life of a boy.

"Crush that life, and behold its wine running! Each deed thou hast done

"Dies, revives, goes to work in the world; until e'en as the sun

"Looking down on the earth, though clouds spoil him, though tempests efface,

"Can find nothing his own deed produced not, must everywhere trace

"The results of his past summer-prime,-so, each ray of thy will,

"Every flash of thy passion and prowess, long over, shall

thrill

"Thy whole people, the countless, with ardour, till they too give forth

"A like cheer to their sons: who in turn, fill the South and the North

"With the radiance thy deed was the germ of. Carouse in the past!

"But the license of age has its limit; thou diest at

last.

"As the lion when age dims his eyeball, the rose at her

height,

"So with man-so his power and his beauty for ever take flight.

"No! Again a long draught of my soul-wine! Look forth o'er the years!

"Thou hast done now with eyes for the actual; begin with the seer's!

"Is Saul dead? In the depth of the vale make his tomb -bid arise

"A grey mountain of marble heaped four-square, till, built to the skies,

"Let it mark where the great First King slumbers: whose fame would ye know?

"Up above see the rock's naked face, where the record shall go

"In great characters cut by the scribe,-Such was Saul, so he did;

"With the sages directing the work, by the populace

chid,

"For not half, they 'll affirm, is comprised there! Which fault to amend,

"In the grove with his kind grows the cedar, whereon they shall spend

"(See, in tablets 't is level before them) their praise, and

record

“With the gold of the graver, Saul's story,— the statesman's great word

"Side by side with the poet's sweet comment. The river 's a-wave

"With smooth paper reeds grazing each other when prophet-winds rave:

"So the pen gives unborn generations their due and their part

"In thy being! Then, first of the mighty, thank God that thou art!"

XIV

And behold while I sang . . but O Thou who didst grant

me, that day,

And, before it, not seldom has granted thy help to

essay,

Carry on and complete an adventure,-my shield and my

sword

In that act where my soul was thy servant, thy word was my word,

Still help me, who then at the summit of human endeavour And scaling the highest, man's thought could, gazed hopeless as ever

On the new stretch of heaven above me-till, mighty to save,

Just one lift of thy hand cleared that distance-God's throne from man's grave!

Let me tell out my tale to its ending-my voice to my

heart

Which scarce dares believe in what marvels last night I took part,

As this morning I gather the fragments, alone with my sheep!

And fear lest the terrible glory evanish like sleep,

For I wake in the grey dewy covert, while Hebron upheaves

Dawn struggling with night on his shoulder, and Kidron retrieves

Slow the damage of yesterday's sunshine.

XV

I say then, my song

While I sang thus, assuring the monarch, and, ever more

strong,

Made a proffer of good to console him-he slowly

resumed

His old motions and habitudes kingly. The right hand replumed

His black locks to their wonted composure, adjusted the

swathes

Of his turban, and see-the huge sweat that his countenance bathes,

He wipes off with the robe; and he girds now his loins as of yore,

And feels slow for the armlets of price, with the clasp set before.

He is Saul, ye remember in glory,—ere error had bent The broad brow from the daily communion; and still, though much spent

Be the life and the bearing that front you, the same, God did choose,

To receive what a man may waste, desecrate, never quite lose.

So sank he along by the tent-prop, still, stayed by the pile Of his armour and war-cloak and garments, he leaned there awhile,

And sat out my singing,-one arm round the tent-prop, to raise

His bent head, and the other hung slack-till I touched on the praise

I foresaw from all men in all time, to the man patient

there;

And thus ended, the harp falling forward. Then first I was 'ware

That he sat, as I say, with my head just above his vast

knees

Which were thrust out on each side around me, like oak roots which please

To encircle a lamb when it slumbers. I looked up to

know

If the best I could do had brought solace: he spoke not, but slow

Lifted up the hand slack at his side, till he laid it with

care

Soft and grave, but in mild settled will, on my brow: thro' my hair

The large fingers were pushed, and he bent back my head, with kind power—

All my face back, intent to peruse it, as men do a

flower.

Thus held he me there with his great eyes that scrutinized

mine

And oh, all my heart how it loved him! but where was the sign?

I yearned-" Could I help thee, my father, inventing a

bliss,

“I would add, to that life of the past, both the future and

this;

I would give thee new life altogether, as good, ages

hence,

"As this moment,-had love but the warrant, love's heart to dispense !"

XVI

Then the truth came upon me. No harp more-no song more! outbroke

XVII

"I have gone the whole round of creation: I saw and I

spoke ;

“I, a work of God's hand for that purpose, received in my brain

"And pronounced on the rest of his handwork-returned him again

"His creation's approval or censure: I spoke as I saw, 'Reported, as man may of God's work-all 's love, yet

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all's law.

"Now I lay down the judgeship he lent me. Each faculty tasked

"To perceive him has gained an abyss, where a dewdrop was asked.

"Have I knowledge? confounded it shrivels at Wisdom laid bare.

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