Читать книгу Sketches онлайн
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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