University of Virginia Library

BIBLE SONNETS.

—DAVID.

THE ANOINTING OF DAVID.

As Jesse's sons, in manhood's pride, passed by,
Of princely stature and of martial air,
The prophet deemed the Lord's anointed there.
But not the grace that charms the outward eye,
Grace in the heart, is prized above the sky,—
Found in yon vale, contented with the care
Of “those few sheep,” and waking music rare
From lute or harp to life God's praise on high.
Called from the sheep-fold, circled by the seven,
See for the anointing that fair stripling bow,
Then rise their destined king by will of Heaven:
So to Christ's humble, happy followers now,
A secret unction from above is given,
Pledge of the crown which shall adorn their brow.

DAVID THE WANDERER.

The victim of a despot's jealous mood
From Court luxurious to drear cave he fled,
Nor had he where to lay his weary head—
A wanderer in the wilderness and wood.
'Twas Love allured him into solitude,
Ordering each flitting step, each tear he shed,
And through rough paths His chosen servant led,
With thorns and briars to teach him for his good.
For the high duties of a dazzling throne
The Lord with sufferings His elect one braces:
Thus in deep furrows of God's plough are sown
The precious germs of fair, immortal graces;
And still by arduous ways God leads His own
To sit on starry thrones in heavenly places.

DAVID IN ADULLAM.

Hid in Adullam's “dry and thirsty” cave,
Longing he cried—faint with fierce harvest heat—
“Oh for a draught from Bethlehem's fountain sweet,
Which, by the gate, wells out its cooling wave!”
Bursting through hosts of foes three warriors brave
Present the brimming cup—his wish complete—
Which, as with life-blood crimsoned, at his feet
He pours, refusing his parched lips to lave.
So, by Heaven's gate, I see pure waters streaming,
And, faint and weary, long to drink of them;
For that blest fountain, clear as crystal seeming,
Gladly earth's broken cisterns I contemn;—
I see the crimson through the crystal gleaming,
Dear “water of the well of Bethlehem!”

DAVID THE TRANSGRESSOR.

Silence had fallen on the minstrel-king,
And melancholy brooded o'er his throne;
Out of his palace gates God's peace had flown—
No heart had he to pray or tongue to sing:
In vain he longed for some air-cleaving wing
To waft him far away to desert lone;
Sadly he reaps what he had madly sown—
Sin has no Harvest-sheaves of joy to bring.
Alas! one touch of guilty hands had jarr'd
The harp that thrill'd to many a holy psalm;
The shadow of one sin had shut and barr'd
The windows whence flowed down heaven's sunshine calm,
And like a canker or a blight had marr'd
The gracious verdure of earth's stateliest palm.

DAVID THE FATHER.

“Oh my son Absalom, my son, my son!
Would I had died for thee!” Thus up the stair
Above the gate he groaned in his despair
At tidings of that fatal victory won;
All the dark deeds which Absalom had done
Merged in sweet memories of his countenance fair;
The father's heart entangled in that hair,
Whose golden sheen outvied the orient sun.
Rebel, undutiful, ingrate, unkind,
All was forgotten in that one word—Child;
The father's eyes with tears of love were blind.
So we, God's rebel children, sin-defiled,
Round our Great Father's pitiful heart entwined,
By yearning, dying Love are reconciled.