202 BOYS OF THE BIBLE.

record, but the poem is so true to the inner heart of the
King’s grief that criticism on that point is silent; and with
this elegy of sorrow, we close our story of the Rebel Prince.

The waters slept. Night’s silvery veil hung low
On Jordan’s bosom, and the eddies ‘curled

Their glassy rings beneath it, like the still,
Unbroken beating of the sleeper’s pulse.

The reeds bend down the stream; the willow leaves
With a soft cheek upon the lulling tide,

Forgot the lifting winds: and the long stems
Whose flowers the water, like a gentle nurse
Bears on its bosom, quietly gave way,

And leaned, in graceful attitude, to rest.

How strikingly the course of nature tells

By its light heed of human suffering,

That it was fashioned for a happier world!

King David's limbs were weary. He had fled

From far Jerusalem: and now he stood

With his faint people, for a little space,

Upon the shore of Jordan. The light wind

Of morn was stirring, and he bared his brow,

To its refreshing breath; for he had worn

The mourner’s covering, and had not felt

That he could see his people until now.

They gathered round him on the fresh green bank
' And spoke their kindly words: and as the sun

Rose up in heaven, he knelt among them there,

And bowed his head upon his hands to pray.

Oh! when the heart is full—when bitter thoughts

Come crowding thickly up for utterance,

And the poor common words of courtesy,

Are such a very mockery—how much

The bursting heart may pour itself in prayer!

He prayed for Israel: and his voice went up

Strongly and fervently. He prayed for those,

Whose love had been his shield: and his deep tones

Grew tremulous. But, oh! for Absalom—

For his estranged misguided Absalom—

The proud bright being who had burst away

In all his princely beauty, to defy

The heart that cherished him—for him he poured

In agony that would not be controlled