Poems by Sir Alfred C. Lyall :: :: University of Virginia Library

Mighty without is the people's din,
Solomon, reigneth, they clamour and cry;
Here it is quiet the temple within,
This is the hour and the place to die.

3.

For David, ancient King, is dead
And, dying, left his latest word
To Solomon, who rules instead,
That he should slay me by the sword.
Why stands Benaiah at the gate?
For, though I clasp the altar's horn,
Yet little reck I of my fate,
The twinge of death I hold in scorn;
For I am stricken deep in years
And I have drunk the lees of life;
Of smiting steel have I no fears,
My days were passed in deadly strife;

4.

And when he gave his son bequest
(For conscience sake and kingdom's good)
“Give Joab's age no peaceful rest
But bring his grey hairs down in blood.”
Small need had David to be told

That Joab like a chief would fall;
For he and I are comrades old,
And whether in the days of Saul
At bay upon the rugged heights
By all the army's strength assailed,
Or in the fierce Philistian fights,
He knew my heart had never quailed.

5.

For Solomon—it suits him well
To slay a man who dared rebel;
But thou! it seems a cruel thing,
I was the Captain of thy host,
O valiant friend and warrior King
I served thee best, I loved thee most—
That thou wast careful to bequeath
A legacy of bloody death,
In tardy vengeance for the stain
Of Abner and Amasa slain.
Thyself—did dead Uriah's wife

Remind thee of my sinful life?

Well! times are changed, by God his will,
And Kings alone are free to kill;
Yet when he spake the words of doom
That echoed round his opening tomb,
Remembering all the by-gone feud
And fierce revenge of soldiers rude,
Might David with some touch of ruth
Recall our stormy days of youth?
Of all the hardy outlaw train
That kept the hill and swept the plain,
His boldest men-at-arms were three,
His sister's sons. And ever we
(For that he was a comrade true
And better swordsman never drew
His blade against a champion foe)
Followed and saw his fortunes grow,
Until the tribes their monarch hailed,
So mightily his name prevailed.

6.

Did he remember the time, when down on his heritage fair
Ziklag, gift of a King, came Amalek, infidel thief?
Harried and ravished and spoilt—we found all burning and bare,
Loud was the cry of the people and sore against David the Chief.

Far o'er the sand we pursued, and sharp was the fight and the slaughter,
Many fell off by the track, but we three were all to the fore.
Or when a host was defied for a draught of Bethlehem's water,
One was my brother, he went, and Benaiah who stands at the door.

Those were the wild old days of war, and raids, and disorder,
Who was to reckon his blows, or stickle at stabbing a man?
Fighting for freedom and lands, and the city of God in our borders,
Judah the Chief of the tribes, and David the lord of our clan.

Enemies oft have I killed, but two, I think, were the greatest,
Absalom, rebel indeed, and Abner, Captain of Saul;
Why should I spare such a prince? Why stab not a man whom thou hatest?
David may punish their death, but David was raised by their fall.

Yet is my end to be thus—but it stands to all ages a token,

Rough is the path of war, and bloody the steps to a throne,
Sharpest the struggle of all when the bonds of a nation are broken,
When house is set against house, and each man fights for his own.

Then as they wrestle for rule, and strive in the hot death labour,
When the leader who fails is lost, and the flames of rebellion spread,
A monarch laughs in his heart as he watches the swing of a sabre,
Hears of a traitor slain, nor asks for the names of the dead.

But when the throne is firm, and cold are the hands that would shake it,
Soft for the killing of men is the heart of the rulers that win;

Tender for Justice and Law, and hard upon him who would break it,
Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord—let the murderer die in his sin.
Woe to the soldier then, for thus shall his zeal be requited.
Trapped by the meshes of law, stabbed by the slaves of the quill;
While citizens timid and sleek, whom the tale of his deeds affrighted,
Cry that the man of wrath may perish—and have their will.

Benaiah, brother in arms, I am pleased it is thou that shalt end me;
Warily dost thou approach, knowing my cunning at fence?
Nay, but our blood is cold, and I have not the heart to defend me,
David has called, and I follow, so slay me that I may go hence.

1 Samuel, xxx.

2 Samuel, xxiii, 15.