Poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

In guileless youth, with infant glee,
When rosy smiles and love were blending,
Thou climb'st thy father's lulling knee,
And blessings were ascending;
Thou wert my solace and my joy
From blushing morn to ev'ning dun,
But ah! they slew my smiling boy—
O Absalom, my son, my son!

With glowing eye, and swelling breast,
Thou didst transport thy royal sire,
Who gaz'd upon thee, and was blest,
And sweetly struck his sacred lyre;
Thy voice was music to my ear,
Thy flashing eye the orient sun,
But murky tempests discord bear
O'er thee, Absalom, my son, my son!

When, pillowed on thy mother's bosom,
In slumbers lay the sinless child,
Fond fancy saw the cion blossom,
And at the blissful image smiled;

And blest love mus'd if death in gloom
Should shroud the flower, that zephyr won,
Beauty should deck thy princely tomb—
O Absalom, my son, my son!

But desert rocks are thy cold pillow,
And dreary is the unhaunted wild,
The sighing cypress, nor the willow
Chant a sad dirge o'er my lone child;
From the drear sunless wood is gleaming
No proud tomb of beauty gone,
But the raven bird is screaming
O'er thee, Absalom my son, my son!

The graceless rebels shrink away,
And leave their scoffed lord mansionless,
Minions! they bask in summer's ray,
But to grief's voice are motionless;
Ay—but veiled Zion wakes my wail,—
By plaudits was the prince undone,
And earth shall quake to hear the tale
Of Absalom, my son, my son!

When wreathing incense rolled on high,
And the sin-girt victim bled,
Devotion glistened in thine eye,
And heavenly hope was in thy tread;
Yet, guile beset thy bright path blooming
With the fair flowers of Lebanon,
And all thy glory now is looming,
O Absalom, my son, my son!

O had I died for thee, my child,
For my foot trod the downward vale,
And thou wast young, and wast beguiled
And led along the gore-paved dale!
Forgive him heaven! he sought to rise
On wings plumed for him—but he's gone;
O may sweet peace in yon bright skies
Crown Absalom, my son, my son!