61. David and Jonathan
|
{115}
"Thy love to me was wonderful, passing the
love of women." |
O HEART of fire! misjudged by wilful man,
|
Thou flower of Jesse's race! |
What woe was thine, when thou and Jonathan |
Last greeted face to face! |
He doom'd to die, thou on us to impress |
The portent of a blood-stain'd holiness. |
Yet it was well:—for so, 'mid cares of rule |
And crime's encircling tide, |
A spell was o'er thee, zealous one, to cool |
Earth-joy and kingly pride; |
With battle-scene and pageant, prompt to blend |
The pale calm spectre of a blameless friend. |
{116}
Ah! had he lived, before thy throne to stand, |
Thy spirit keen and high |
Sure it had snapp'd in twain love's slender band, |
So dear in memory; |
Paul, of his comrade reft, the warning gives,— |
He lives to us who dies, he is but lost who lives. |
Lazaret, Malta.
January 16, 1833. |