12

BOYS OF THE BIBLE.

Strong supplication, and forgave him there,

. Before his God, for his deep sinfulness.

* * * *
The pall was settled. He who slept beneath,
Was straightened for the grave: and as the folds
Sank to the still proportions, they betrayed
The matchless symmetry of Absalom.
His hair was yet unshorn, and silken curls
Were floating round the tassels as they swayed
To the admitted air, as glossy now
As when, in hours of gentle dalliance, bathing
The snowy fingers of Judea’s girls.
His helm was at his feet: his banner soiled
With trailing through Jerusalem, was laid,
Reversed beside him: and the jeweled hilt
Whose diamonds lit the passage of his blade,
Rested like mockery on his covered brow.
The soldiers of the King trod to and fro,
Clad in the garb of battle; and their chief,
The mighty Joab, stood beside the bier,
And gazed upon the dark pall steadfastly,
As if he feared the slumberer might stir.
A slow step startled him. He grasped his blade
As if a trumpet rang: but the bent form
Of David entered, and he gave command
In a low tone to his few followers,
Who left him with his dead. The King stood still
Till the last echo died; then throwing off
The sackcloth from his brow, and laying back
The pall from the still features of. his child,
He bowed his head upon him, and broke forth .
In the resistless eloquence of woe:

“Alas! my noble boy! that thou shouldst die,—
Thou who wert made so beautifully fair!
That death should settle in thy glorious eye,
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,
Like a rich harp string, yearning to caress thee—
And hear thy sweet ‘A7y father, from these dumb
And cold lips, Absalom!

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