Poems (Louisa Blake)/1st Samuel, 16th
I SAMUEL, 16.
In Bethlehem dwelt a poor and aged man,
Poor if the earth's low dross be counted wealth,
But passing rich in choicest gifts of Heaven,
The high and haughty might look down with scorn
On his low dwelling, as it stood retired,
And humbly spoke its inmate's lowliness;
But little reck'd he of the world's contempt
As he look'd round, with all a father's pride,
And all a father's doating tenderness,
On the bright band of brothers, who were now,
In all their manly gracefulness and strength,
A forest of young trees, whose mighty arms
Stretch'd far and wide, to shield him from the blasts
And piercing winds of heaven;—beneath whose shade
His aged head, bared to the scorching sun,
And blighting storms for many a circling year,
Might now repose in calm security.
His soul in its deep thankfulness,
Was full to overflowing;—the rich stream,
The incense of a pure and grateful heart,
Went up to God's high throne acceptably.
Poor if the earth's low dross be counted wealth,
But passing rich in choicest gifts of Heaven,
The high and haughty might look down with scorn
On his low dwelling, as it stood retired,
And humbly spoke its inmate's lowliness;
But little reck'd he of the world's contempt
As he look'd round, with all a father's pride,
And all a father's doating tenderness,
On the bright band of brothers, who were now,
In all their manly gracefulness and strength,
A forest of young trees, whose mighty arms
Stretch'd far and wide, to shield him from the blasts
And piercing winds of heaven;—beneath whose shade
His aged head, bared to the scorching sun,
And blighting storms for many a circling year,
Might now repose in calm security.
His soul in its deep thankfulness,
Was full to overflowing;—the rich stream,
The incense of a pure and grateful heart,
Went up to God's high throne acceptably.
'Twas mid-day—and the patriarch Jesse sat
As he was wont, within his humble tent
Alone and silent, for his sons had gone
To labor in the field, and earn by toil
The pleasures of repose, when they should meet
Around their fire at evening's calm cool hour,
And join in those kind offices of love,
And fond attentions, which the aged need;
And which are hallow'd and refined, when made
By children unto parents.
By children unto parents.In these hours
His soul's full tide pour'd out itself in prayer,
For when his boys were near him, his fond eye
Felt it must rest on them; and his warm heart
Clung closely to them, and the patriarch knew
That adoration and the voice of prayer,
When offer'd to the high and holy One
Must be estranged from aught that breathes of earth.
As he was wont, within his humble tent
Alone and silent, for his sons had gone
To labor in the field, and earn by toil
The pleasures of repose, when they should meet
Around their fire at evening's calm cool hour,
And join in those kind offices of love,
And fond attentions, which the aged need;
And which are hallow'd and refined, when made
By children unto parents.
By children unto parents.In these hours
His soul's full tide pour'd out itself in prayer,
For when his boys were near him, his fond eye
Felt it must rest on them; and his warm heart
Clung closely to them, and the patriarch knew
That adoration and the voice of prayer,
When offer'd to the high and holy One
Must be estranged from aught that breathes of earth.
The covering of the tent is slowly raised,
And the dim eye of Jesse knew the form,
The venerable form that enter'd there
To be the aged Samuel's; the man,
The favor'd prophet of the most high God;
He hastes to bid him welcome to his tent,
But as his ear receives the import high
Of the old prophet's message,
From the Eternal One,—to him whose bliss
Ere this had been so perfect, that he felt his heart
Was almost bursting, with his height of joy.
And the dim eye of Jesse knew the form,
The venerable form that enter'd there
To be the aged Samuel's; the man,
The favor'd prophet of the most high God;
He hastes to bid him welcome to his tent,
But as his ear receives the import high
Of the old prophet's message,
From the Eternal One,—to him whose bliss
Ere this had been so perfect, that he felt his heart
Was almost bursting, with his height of joy.
The brothers came;—as one by one, they pass'd
And bow'd in manly dignity to crave
The blessing of their guest, his gentle eye
Linger'd on each, in wonder to behold
So many noble youths; until at last
The youngest of the band came smiling in.
He left his sheep in haste, and hurried home
To see the venerable man whose fame
Had reach'd far Bethlehem, and now he stood
Before him, and flung back the glossy locks
Which cluster'd round his high and open brow,
Then knelt in reverence to receive the boon,
The only boon he ask'd—the good man's blessing.
Samuel bless'd him, and he pour'd the oil
Upon his head;—that fair young head bow'd low
As it received the unction, and his heart,
His young pure heart, never more deeply felt
Its nothingness, than when the prophet's hand
Raised him up kindly, and he stood erect
In his majestic gracefulness—a King.
And bow'd in manly dignity to crave
The blessing of their guest, his gentle eye
Linger'd on each, in wonder to behold
So many noble youths; until at last
The youngest of the band came smiling in.
He left his sheep in haste, and hurried home
To see the venerable man whose fame
Had reach'd far Bethlehem, and now he stood
Before him, and flung back the glossy locks
Which cluster'd round his high and open brow,
Then knelt in reverence to receive the boon,
The only boon he ask'd—the good man's blessing.
Samuel bless'd him, and he pour'd the oil
Upon his head;—that fair young head bow'd low
As it received the unction, and his heart,
His young pure heart, never more deeply felt
Its nothingness, than when the prophet's hand
Raised him up kindly, and he stood erect
In his majestic gracefulness—a King.