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Said Theocrite, "Would God that I

With his holy vestments dight,5
Stood the new Pope, Theocrite:

And all his past career
Came back upon him clear,

Since when, a boy, he plied his trade,
Till on his life the sickness weighed;
And in his cell, when death drew near,
An angel in a dream brought cheer:

And rising from the sickness drear,

Might praise him that great way, and die!" He grew a priest, and now stood here.

Night passed, day shone,

And Theocrite was gone.

With God a day endures alway,
A thousand years are but a day.

God said in heaven, "Nor day nor night
Now brings the voice of my delight."'

Then Gabriel, like a rainbow's birth,
Spread his wings and sank to earth;

Entered, in flesh, the empty cell,

Lived there, and played the craftsman well;

And morning, evening, noon and night,
Praised God in place of Theocrite.

And from a boy, to youth he grew:
The man put off the stripling's hue:

The man matured and fell away
Into the season of decay:

And ever o'er the trade he bent, And ever lived on earth content.

(He did God's will; to him, all one If on the earth or in the sun.)

God said "A praise is in mine ear; There is no doubt in it, no fear:

"So sing old worlds, and so
New worlds that from my footstool go.

"Clearer loves sound other ways:
I miss my little human praise.''

Then forth sprang Gabriel's wings, off fell The flesh disguise, remained the cell.

"Twas Easter Day: he flew to Rome, And paused above St. Peter's dome.

In the tiring-room close by

The great outer gallery,

To the East with praise he turned,

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"I bore thee from thy craftsman's cell, And set thee here; I did not well.

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Vainly I left my angel-sphere,

Vain was thy dream of many a year.

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Thy voice's praise seemed weak; it droppedCreation's chorus stopped!

"Go back and praise again

The early way, while I remain.

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"With that weak voice of our disdain,

Take up creation's pausing strain.

'Back to the cell and poor employ: Resume the craftsman and the boy!" Theocrite grew old at home;

A new Pope dwelt in Peter's dome.

One vanished as the other died:
They sought God side by side.

SAUL* I

Said Abner,1 "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.

5 arrayed

The captain of Saul's host. er throughout.

David is the speak

* In I Samuel, xvi. 14-23. David, the shepherd boy, is summoned to play on his harp and drive away the evil spirit which troubles Saul. Browning has availed himself of the theme to set forth. in majestic anapests, the range and power of music in its various kinds; thence passing to a view of the boundlessness of spiritual influence, and rising in the end to a vision of the ultimate oneness of human sympathy and love with divine. A. J. George writes: "The severity, sweetness, and beauty of the closing scene where David returns to his simple task of tending his flocks, when all nature is alive with the new impulse and pronounces the benediction on his efforts, is not surpassed by anything in our literature."

And he: "Since the King, O my friend, for On the great cross-support in the centre, that thy countenance sent, goes to each side;

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Neither drunken nor eaten have we; nor until He relaxed not a muscle, but hung there as, from his tent caught in his pangs Thou return with the joyful assurance the And waiting his change, the king-serpent all King liveth yet, heavily hangs, Shall our lip with the honey be bright, with Far away from his kind, in the pine, till the water be wet, deliverance come

For out of the black mid-tent's silence, a space With the spring-time,2-so agonized Saul, drear and stark, blind and dumb.

of three days,

Not a sound hath escaped to thy servants, of

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V

Then I tuned my harp.-took off the lilies we
twine round its chords

Lest they snap 'neath the stress of the noon-
tide those sunbeams like swords!
And I first played the tune all our sheep know,
as, one after one,

"Yet now my heart leaps, O beloved! God's So docile they come to the pen-door till folding

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On thy gracious gold hair, and those lilies still They are white and untorn by the bushes, for 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;

lo, they have fed

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I pulled up the spear that obstructed, and To fly after the player; then, what makes the under I stooped;

crickets elate

Hands and knees on the slippery grass-patch, Till for boldness they fight one another; and all withered and gone,

then, what has weight

That extends to the second enclosure, I groped To set the quick jerboa3 a-musing outside his my way on

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sand house

There are none such as he for a wonder, half bird and half mouse!

And opened the foldskirts and entered, and God made all the creatures and gave them our was not afraid

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love and our fear,

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To console us? The land has none left such All the heart and the soul and the senses foras he on the bier.

Oh, would we might keep thee, my brother!

And then, the glad chaunt

ever in joy! Hast thou loved the white locks of thy father, whose sword thou didst guard

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Of the marriage,-first go the young maidens, When he trusted thee forth with the armies, next, she whom we vaunt

As the beauty, the pride of our dwelling.

And then, the grand march

for glorious reward?

Didst thou see the thin hands of thy mother,

held up as men sung

Wherein man runs to man to assist him and The low song of the nearly-departed, and hear

buttress an arch

Naught can break; who shall harm them, our

friends? Then, the chorus intoned

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her faint tongue

Joining in while it could to the witness, "Let one more attest,

As the Levites go up to the altar in glory I have lived, seen God's hand through a lifeenthroned. time, and all was for best?'' But I stopped here: for here in the darkness Then they sung through their tears in strong Saul groaned.

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triumph, not much, but the rest.

And thy brothers, the help and the contest, the working whence grew

Such result as, from seething grape-bundles, the spirit strained true:

And the friends of thy boyhood-that boyhood of wonder and hope,

Present promise and wealth of the future beyond the eye's scope,—

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Till lo, thou art grown to a monarch: a people is thine;

And all gifts, which the world offers singly,

on one head combine!

On one head, all the beauty and strength, love and rage (like the throe

That,

a-work in the rock, helps its labour and lets the gold go)

High ambition and deeds which surpass it, fame crowning them,—all

Brought to blaze on the head of one creature -King Saul!''

X

And lo, with that leap of my spirit,-heart, hand, harp and voice,

Each lifting Saul's name out of sorrow, each bidding rejoice

Saul's fame in the light it was made for-as when, dare I say,

And the meal, the rich dates yellowed over The Lord's army, in rapture of service, strains

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While the vale laughed in freedom and flow- And bring blood to the lip, and commend them ers) on a broad bust of stone the cup they put by?

A year's snow bound about for a breast-plate, He saith, "It is good;" still he drinks not: -leaves grasp of the sheet? he lets me praise life,

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each furrow and scar

Of his head thrust 'twixt you and the tempest -all hail, there they are!

-Now again to be softened with verdure. again hold the nest

Of the dove, tempt the goat and its young to the green on his crest

For their food in the ardours of summer. One long shudder thrilled

All the tent till the very air tingled, then sank and was stilled

At the King's self left standing before me, released and aware. What was gone, what remained? All to trav verse 'twixt hope and despair. Death was past, life not come: Awhile his right hand

so he waited.

Held the brow, helped the eyes left too vacant

forthwith to remand

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"Yea, my King,"

I began thou dost well in rejecting mere comforts that spring

From the mere mortal life held in common by man and by brute:

In our flesh grows the branch of this life, in our soul it bears fruit. 150

Thou hast marked the slow rise of the tree,how its stem trembled first

Till it passed the kid's lip, the stag's antler; then safely outburst

The fan-branches all round; and thou mindest when these too, in turn,

Broke a-bloom and the palm-tree seemed perfeet: yet more was to learn, E'en the good that comes in with the palmfruit. Our dates shall we slight. When their juice brings a cure for all sorrow { or care for the plight

Of the palm's self whose slow growth produced them? Not so! stem and branch Shall decay, nor be known in their place, while the palm-wine shall stanch

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!

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

With

smooth paper-reeds grazing each other when prophet-winds2 rave:

By the spirit, when age shall o'ercome thee, So the pen gives unborn generations their due thou still shalt enjoy and their part

More indeed, than at first when inconscious, In thy being! Then, first of the mighty, thank

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at last:

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

So with man-so his power and his beauty forever 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 gray mountain of marble heaped four-square, till, built to the skies,

Let it mark where the great First King1 slumbers: whose fame would ye know?

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

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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

1 Of Israel.

Carry

who didst grant me that day, before it not seldom hast granted thy help to essay,

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

And

On

Just

Let

be with me, who then at the summit of

human endeavour

scaling the highest man's thought could, gazed hopeless as ever

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

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

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

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

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

And

For

The

still fear lest the terrible glory evanish
like sleep!

I wake in the gray dewy covert, while
Hebron3 upheaves

dawn, struggling with night, on his shoul-
der, and Kidron retrieves

Slow the damage of yesterday's sunshine.*

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