Читать книгу The Death of Saul and other Eisteddfod Prize Poems and Miscellaneous Verses - J. C. Manning - Страница 11

The morrow came: the bloody fray began.

The sun shone fierce and hot upon the scene.

Lashed into fury like a raging sea

The wrestling multitude for vantage strove

With deadly chivalry. On Gilboa's mount

The King looked forth and watched the sanguine strife,

Clothed in the golden panoply of war.

Upon his brow the stately monarch wore

The crown of all the tribes of Israel,

A-fire with jewels flashing in the sun

In bitter mockery of his trampled heart.

Noble in mien, yet, with a sorrowing soul,

Anxious his gaze—for in the sweltering surge

Three sons of Saul were battling with the rest;

His first-born, Jonathan; Abinadab;

And Melchi-shua—idols of his life!

Around him like a hurricane of hail

The pinioned shafts with aim unerring sped,

Bearing dark death upon their feathery wings.

The clashing sword its dismal carnage made

As foe met foe; and flashing sparks out-flew

As blade crossed blade with murderous intent.

The outcry rose—"They fly! they fly!" The King

Looked down upon the fray with trembling heart.

The bloody stream along the valley ran,

And chariots swept like eagles on the wind

On deathly mission borne. The conflict fierce

Waxed fiercer—fiercer still; the rain of gore

Wetted the soddened plain, and arrows flew

Thicker and faster through the darkening air.

The barbëd spear, flung forth with stalwart arm,

Sped like a whirlwind on its flight of death.

Along the ranks the warrior's clarion call

Inspired to valorous life the struggling hosts,

And shouts of victory from contending hordes

Blended with sorrowing moans of dying men.

"Thy sons, O King!" a breathless herald cried,

Fresh from the carnage, bowing low his head,

Where Saul, heart-weary, watched the dreadful strife

On Gilboa's height. "Thy sons, O mighty King!"

The herald cried, and sank upon the ground

By haste exhausted. Saul, with fitful start,

Upraised the prostrate messenger. "My sons!

"What of them? Speak!" he gasped, with startled look,

"Dead!" moaned the herald, and an echo came,

As though deep down in some sepulchral vault

The word was spoken. From the heart of Saul

That mournful echo came—so sad and low!

"Dead! dead! Ah, woe is me!" he sadly sighed.

"My sons—my best beloved! Woe! Woe—alas!"

And as he spake, e'en while his head, gold-crowned,

Bent low in pain beneath the crushing blow,

An arrow from the foe his armour smote,

And pierced his breast, already rent with grief.

Then stepped with hurried tread a servant forth,

And plucked the arrow from its cruel feast,

Rending his robe to stanch the purple stream.

"Heed not the wound!" exclaimed the King. "Too late!

"Where Heaven smites, men's blows are light indeed."

Then bending o'er his breast his kingly head

He wept aloud: "Rejected of the Lord;

"My sons among the slain; my valorous host

"In bondage of the heathen—let me die!"

So sobbed the King, as down the bloody plain

The chariots of the foe came thundering on;

And horsemen cleft the air in hot array—

A mighty stream of chivalry and life!

The Israelites had fled, and at their heels

The roaring tumult followed like a storm

That rolls from world to world. And through the blast

Of warfare came a weak and wailing voice

Moaning in utter anguish—"Let me die!"

'Twas Saul the Anointed—Israel's fallen King:

Crushed 'neath the hand of an offended God!

"Lo!" cried the King, and raised his tearful eyes,

"The Philistines are near, pierce thou my breast!"

And, turning round, his kingly breast he bared,

Bidding his armour-bearer thrust his sword

Hilt-deep into his heart. "Better to die

"By friendly hand," he cried, "than owe my death

"To yonder hated victors. Quick! Thy sword!

"Thrust deep and quickly!" But the faltering hand

That held the sword fell nerveless. "Mighty King!

"I dare not!" spake the trembling armourer.

"Then by my own I die," exclaimed the King.

And as he spake he poised the glittering blade

Point upward from the earth, and moaning fell

Upon the thirsty steel. The ruddy gush

Came spurting through the armour that he wore,

And steamed in misty vapour to the sky

In voiceless testimony to the truth

Of words once spoken by the living God!

Aghast the faithful armour-bearer stood.

"O, mighty King! I die with thee!" he said,

And, falling on his sword, the blood of both

Commingled, as from ghastly wounds it ran

In trickling streamlets down Mount Gilboa's side. (i) As ebbs and flows the sea with troubled throb 'Twixt shore and shore, or as the thistle-down Halts in the eddies of the summer wind In trembling doubt, so do the flickering souls Of dying men float fearingly between The earth and unseen worlds that lie beyond. So hung the life of Saul, whose bitter cup, Still at his lips, contained its bitterest dregs. Prostrate he lay, by bloody sword transfixed; A corpse his pillow; arms extended out, And body bent in agony of pain, The flame of life still fluttering at his heart A waning lamp. He heard the tumult swell. Bondage was worse than death. "They come! They come!" He moaned. "Stand ye upon my breast," he said, To one, a stranger, lingering near the spot, "And force the gurgling stream back on my heart, "To quench the life within me. Quick! They come!" The stranger did the cruel bidding. (j) Hark! "The King!" the foemen cry, and fiercely rusht Upon the Royal captive, who, till then, Had lain by them unseen. But while the shout Swept like a storm along the swelling ranks The soul of Saul went drifting through the dark, Like some fair ship with sails and cordage rent, Out from the stormy trials of his life, To tempt the terrors of an unknown sea. And then the cry of lamentation rose In Israel, and the Hebrew maidens hung Their speechless harps upon the willow branch, And mourned the loved and lost unceasingly.

(a) Nevertheless the people refused to obey the voice of Samuel; and they said, Nay, but we will have a King over us, that we also may be like all the nations. And Samuel said to all the people, "See ye him whom the Lord hath chosen." And all the people shouted and said, "God save the King!"—I SAMUEL, viii. and ix. 19, 20, 24.

(b) And it came to pass, when Samuel was old, that he made his sons judges over Israel. And his sons walked not in his ways, but turned aside after lucre, and took bribes, and perverted judgment.—I SAMUEL, viii., 1, 2.

(c) And Saul said, "Bring hither a burnt offering," and he offered the burnt offering. And Samuel came, and Saul went out to meet him. And Samuel said, "What hast thou done? Thou hast not kept the commandment of the Lord thy God which he commanded thee, and thy kingdom shall not continue."—I SAMUEL, xiii., 10, 14.

(d) And Samuel said, "The Lord sent thee, and said go and utterly destroy the sinners, the Amalekites. Wherefore didst thou not obey the voice of the Lord, but didst fly upon the spoil?" And Saul said unto Samuel, "The people took of the spoil, sheep and oxen, to sacrifice unto the Lord thy God at Gilgal." And Samuel said, "Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, and to hearken than the fat of rams. For rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft, and stubbornness is as iniquity and idolatry. Because thou hast rejected the word of the Lord, he hath also rejected thee."—I SAMUEL, xv,, 18, 23.

(e) And it came to pass, when the evil spirit from God was upon Saul, that David took an harp, and played with his hand. So Saul was refreshed, and was well, and the evil spirit departed from him.—I SAMUEL, xvi., 23.

(f) And the Philistines gathered themselves together, and came and pitched in Shunem; and Saul gathered all Israel together, and they pitched in Gilboa.—I SAMUEL, xxviii., 4.

(g) Then said Saul unto his servants, "Seek me a woman that hath a familiar spirit, that I may go to her and enquire of her." And his servants said to him, "Behold, there is a woman that hath a familiar spirit at Endor." And Saul disguised himself, and came to the woman by night. And he said, "I pray thee, divine unto me by the familiar spirit, and bring him up whom I shall name of thee."—I SAMUEL, xxviii., 7, 8.

(h) And Samuel said to Saul, "Why hast thou disquieted me, to bring me up?" And Saul answered, "I am sore distressed, for the Philistines make war against me, and God is departed from me, and answereth me no more. Therefore I have called thee, that thou mayest make known unto me what I shall do." And Samuel said, "Because thou obeyedst not the voice of the Lord, nor executedst not his fierce wrath upon Amalek, therefore hath the Lord done this thing unto thee this day. To-morrow shalt thou and thy sons be with me; and the Lord also shall deliver the host of Israel into the hand of the Philistines." Then Saul fell straightway all along on the earth.—I SAMUEL, xxviii., 15, 20.

(i) And the battle went sore against Saul, and the archers hit him, and he was sore wounded of the archers. Then said Saul unto his armour-bearer, "Draw thy sword, and thrust me through therewith, lest these uncircumcised come and thrust me through." But his armour-bearer would not, therefore Saul took a sword and fell upon it. And when his armour-bearer saw that Saul was dead, he fell likewise upon his sword, and died with him.—I SAMUEL, xxxi., 3, 5.

(j) And David said unto the young man, "How knowest thou that Saul and Jonathan his son be dead?" And the young man that told him said: "As I happened by chance upon Mount Gilboa, behold, Saul leaned upon his spear: and lo! the chariots and horsemen followed hard after him. And he said unto me, Stand, I pray thee, upon me, and slay me; for anguish is come upon me, because my life is yet whole within me. So I stood upon him, and slew him, because I was sure that he could not live, after that he was fallen."—II SAMUEL, i., 5, 10.