Memoir and remains of the Rev. James D. Burns ... By the late Rev. James Hamilton [i.e. J. D. Burns] |
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LAMENT OF DAVID OVER SAUL AND JONATHAN. |
 | Memoir and remains of the Rev. James D. Burns |  |
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LAMENT OF DAVID OVER SAUL AND JONATHAN.
The beauty of Israel lies low on her mountains,
And her mighty have fallen no more to arise,
The sun of her glory, which late from her fountains
Shower'd down his rich brilliance, hath set in her skies.
And her mighty have fallen no more to arise,
The sun of her glory, which late from her fountains
Shower'd down his rich brilliance, hath set in her skies.
In the temples of Gath tell ye not the sad story,
In the wide street of Askelon speak not of Saul;
For the daughter of Edom o'er Israel would glory,
And the uncircumciséd exult in her fall.
In the wide street of Askelon speak not of Saul;
For the daughter of Edom o'er Israel would glory,
And the uncircumciséd exult in her fall.
On thee, O Gilboa! let no rain, freely falling,
Refresh thee by day, and no thick dews by night;
For thee may no worshipper come to heaven calling,
Nor let the rich incense-cloud curl from thy height.
Refresh thee by day, and no thick dews by night;
For thee may no worshipper come to heaven calling,
Nor let the rich incense-cloud curl from thy height.
For on thy bloody plains, on that dark day of sorrow,
Were the shields of a nation cast basely away;
And on that fatal field, ere had dawn'd the bright morrow,
Our host's gallant leader all silently lay.
Were the shields of a nation cast basely away;
And on that fatal field, ere had dawn'd the bright morrow,
Our host's gallant leader all silently lay.
Yes! lay still in death, he, the Lord's own anointed,
And near him lay resting the son of his pride;
Few fled far, 'gainst whom his sharp arrows were pointed,
And arm'd squadrons grew pale when his sword left his side.
And near him lay resting the son of his pride;
Few fled far, 'gainst whom his sharp arrows were pointed,
And arm'd squadrons grew pale when his sword left his side.
Untrembling they stood while the war-shout was swelling,
Like the far-flashing vulture they rushed to the prey,
And though all the while their own death-dirge was knelling,
They stay'd not their steps till they fell in the fray.
Like the far-flashing vulture they rushed to the prey,
And though all the while their own death-dirge was knelling,
They stay'd not their steps till they fell in the fray.
When these two princely chieftains our proud armies guided,
They were lovely and pleasant all Israel can tell,
And that day in their deaths they were still not divided;
Together they fought, and together they fell.
They were lovely and pleasant all Israel can tell,
And that day in their deaths they were still not divided;
Together they fought, and together they fell.
Like the eagle from far to his quarry swift sweeping,
They sped to the onset, nor stay'd in their path;
Like the lion aroused, from his lair lightly leaping,
They smote each foeman whom they met in their wrath.
They sped to the onset, nor stay'd in their path;
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They smote each foeman whom they met in their wrath.
Weep, then, for the fallen, all Judah's fair daughters!
He cloth'd you with scarlet he won from the foe;
Oh! weep on our woodlands, and weep by the waters!
He who deck'd you with gold and with jewels lies low.
He cloth'd you with scarlet he won from the foe;
Oh! weep on our woodlands, and weep by the waters!
He who deck'd you with gold and with jewels lies low.
Lift ye the loud wailing, for deep on our mountains
The warrior is slumbering to waken no more;
Oh! let the hot tear, welling forth from its fountains,
Flow freely for him whose short life-dream is o'er.
The warrior is slumbering to waken no more;
Oh! let the hot tear, welling forth from its fountains,
Flow freely for him whose short life-dream is o'er.
For him who was bravest be wildest in wailing,
For Jonathan, death for his country who sought;
Though his eye, dimm'd with death, saw the foeman prevailing,
He sheathed not his sword till he fell where he fought.
For Jonathan, death for his country who sought;
Though his eye, dimm'd with death, saw the foeman prevailing,
He sheathed not his sword till he fell where he fought.
Very pleasant hast thou been to me, O my brother!
Not one know'th how sorely I've wept over thee;
I loved thee, my best, as I ne'er loved another,
And stronger than woman's love thine was to me.
Not one know'th how sorely I've wept over thee;
I loved thee, my best, as I ne'er loved another,
And stronger than woman's love thine was to me.
On the soft-speaking harp roll forth the sad numbers;
Long shall Judah remember that foul, fatal day;
The mighty are sleeping, and deep are their slumbers;
Our best and our bravest all fell in the fray!
Long shall Judah remember that foul, fatal day;
The mighty are sleeping, and deep are their slumbers;
Our best and our bravest all fell in the fray!
| Memoir and remains of the Rev. James D. Burns | |