File:Saul (1901) (14767437945).jpg

Identifier: saul00brow (find matches)
Title: Saul
Year: 1901 (1900s)
Authors: Browning, Robert, 1812-1889 MacVannel, John Angus, 1871-1915
Subjects: Saul, King of Israel
Publisher: (New York) T.Y. Crowell & company
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: Sloan Foundation

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XIV. And behold while I sang . . . but O Thou who didst grant me that day,And before it not seldom hast granted thy help to essay,Carry on and complete an adventure, — my shield and my swordIn that act where my soul was thy servant, thy word was my word, —Still be with me, who then at the summit of human endeavorAnd scaling the highest, mans thought could, gazed hopeless as everOn the new stretch of heaven above me — till, mighty to save,Just one lift of thy hand cleared that distance — Gods throne from mans grave !Let me tell out my tale to its ending — my voice to my heart 29 Which can scarce dare believe in what marvelslast night I took part, As this morning I gather the fragments, alonewith my sheep, And still fear lest the terrible glory evanish likesleep ! For I wake in the gray dewy covert, whileHebron upheaves The dawn struggling with night on his shoul-der, and Kidron retrieves Slow the damage of yesterdays sunshine. 30
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XV. I say then, — my songWhile I sang thus, assurmg the monarch, and ever more strongMade a proffer of good to console him — he slowly resumedHis old motions and habitudes kingly. The right hand replumedHis black locks to their wonted composure, ad-justed the swathesOf 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 bentThe broad brow from the daily communion ; and still, though much spent 31 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 till, stayed by the pileOf his armor and war-cloak and garments, he leaned there awhile.And sat out my singing, — one arm round the tent-prop, to raiseHis bent head, and the other hung slack — till I touched on the praiseI for

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