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King David’s limbs were weary. He had fled

From far Jerusalem, and now he stood

With his faint people for a little rest

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 he 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

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