PARTI.

SCENE-A Sheperd's Tent on a Plain.

DAVID, under a spreading Tree, plays on his Harp,

and sings.

GREAT Lord of all things! Power divine! Breathe on this erring heart of mine

Thy grace serene and pure:
Defend my frail, my erring youth,
And teach me this important truth-
The humble are secure!

Teach me to bless my lowly lot,
Confin'd to this paternal cot,

Remote from regal state!
Content to court the cooling glade,
Inhale the breeze, enjoy the shade,
And love my humble fate.

No anxious vigils here I keep,
No dreams of gold distract my sleep,
Nor lead my Leart astray;
Nor blasting Envy's tainted gale
Pollutes the pleasures of the vale,

To ver my harmless day.

Yon tower, which rears its head so high,
And bids defiance to the sky,

Invites the hostile winds:
Yon branching oak, extending wide,
Provokes destruction by its pride,

And courts the fall it finds.

The melancholy monarch, when he lay
Smit by the chill and spirit-quenching hand
Of black Despair. God of my fathers, hear me
Here I devote my harp, my verse, myself,
Glory to God on high, on earth good-will
To thy blest service! gladly to proclaim

To man; to pour my grateful soul before thee
To sing thy power, thy wisdom, and thy love,
And every gracious attribute: to paint
The charms of heaven-born virtue! So shall I
(Though with long interval of worth) aspire
To imitate the work of saints above,
Of Cherub and of Seraphim. My heart,
My talents, all I am, and all I have,
Is thine, O Father! Gracious Lord, accept
The humble dedication! Offer'd gifts
Of slaughter'd bulls and goats sacrifical
Thou hast refused: but lo, I come, O Lord'
To do thy will; the living sacrifice

Of an obedient heart I lay before thee;
This humble offering more shall please thee, Lord,
Than horned bullocks, ceremonial rites,
New moons and Sabbaths, passovers and feasts!
Yet those I too will keep; but not in lieu
Of holiness substantial, inward worth,
As commutation cheap for pious deeds
And purity of life, but as the types
Of better things; as fair external signs
Of inward holiness and secret truth.

But see, my father, good old Jesse, comes;
To cheer the setting evening of whose life,
Content, a simple shepherd here I dwell,
Though Israel is in arms; and royal Saul,
Encamp'd in yonder field, defies Philistia.

Jesse, David.

JESSH.

Blest be the gracious Power who gave my age
To boast a son like thee! Thou art the staff
Which props my bending years, and makes me bear
The heavy burden of declining age

With fond complacence. How unlike thy fate,
O venerable Eli! But two sons,

But only two, to gild the dim remains
Of life's departing day, and bless thy age,

And both were curses to thee! Witness, Heaven!

In all the cruel catalogue of pains

Humanity turns o'er, if there be one
So terrible to human tenderness
As an unnatural child!

Oh, my son ! Of all the graces which adorn thy youth, I, with a father's fondness, must commend Thy tried humility. For though the Seer Pour'd on thy chosen head the sacred oil, In sign of future greatness, in sure pledge Of highest dignity, yet here thou dwell'st Content with toil, and careless of repose; And (harder still for an ingenious mind) Content to be obscure; content to watch, With careful eye, thine humble father's flock! O earthly emblem of celestial things! So Israel's shepherd watches o'er his fold: The weak ones in his fostering bosom bears; And gently leads, in his sustaining hand, The feeble ones with young.

And wisely hast thou done. Thrice happy realm,
Who shall submit one day to his command
Who can so well obey! Obedience leads
To certain honours. Not the towering wing
Of eagle-plumed ambition mounts so surely
To fortune's highest summit as obedience.

[A distant Sound of Trumpets.
But why that sudden ardour, O my son?
That trumpet's sound (though so remote its voice
We hardly catch the echo as it dies)
Has roused the mantling crimson in thy cheek,
Kindled the martial spirit in thine eye;
And my young shepherd feels an hero's fire!

DAVID.

Thou hast not told the posture of the war; And much my beating bosom pants to hear.

JESSE.

Uncertain is the fortune of the field.
I tremble for thy brothers, thus exposed
To constant peril; nor for them alone
Does the quick feeling agonize my heart.
I feel for all!-I mourn that lingering war
Still hangs his banner o'er my native land,
Beloved Jerusalem! O war! what art thou?
At once the proof and scourge of man's fallen state!
After the brightest conquest, what appears
Of all thy glories? for the vanquish'd chains!
For the proud victor, what? Alas to reign
C'er desolated nations! a drear waste,

By one man's crime, by one man's lust of power,
Unpeopled! Ravaged fields assume the place
Of smiling harvests, and uncultured plains
Succeed the fertile vineyard; barren waste
Deforms the spot once rich with luscious figs
And the fat olive.--Devastation reigns.
Here, rifled temples are the cavern'd dens
Of savage beasts, or haunts of birds obscene;
There populous cities blacken in the sun;
And in the general wreck, proud palaces
Lie undistinguished, save by the dun smoke
Of recent conflagration. When the song
Of dear-bought joy, with many a triumpn swell'd,
Salutes the victor's ear, and soothes his pride,
How is the grateful harmony profaned
With the sad dissonance of virgins' cres,
Who mourn their brothers slain? of matrons hoar,
Who clasp their wither'd hands, and fondly ask,
With iteration shrill, their slaughter'd sons!

How is the laurel's verdur stain'd with blood, And soil'd with widows' tears?

DAVID.

Thrice mournful truth!
Yet when our country's sacred rights are menaced;
Her firm foundations shaken to their base;
When all we love, and all that we revere,
Our hearths and altars, children, parents, wives,
Our liberties and laws, the throne they guard,
Are scorn'd and trampled on-then, then, my
father,

'Tis then Religion's voice; then God himself
Commands us to defend his injured name,
And think the victory cheaply bought with life.
'Twere then inglorious weakness, mean self-love,
To lie inactive, when the stirring voice
Of the shrill trumpet wakes the patriot youth,
And, with heroic valour, bids them dare
The foul idolatrous bands, e'en to the death.

JESSE.

God and thy country claim the life they gave; No other cause can sanctify resentment.

DAVID.

Sure virtuous friendship is a noble cause!
Oh, were the princely Jonathan in danger,
How would I die, well pleased, in his defence!
When, 'twas long since, then but a stripling boy,
I made short sojourn in his father's palace
(At first to soothe his troubled mind with song,
The gracious bounties of the gallant prince,
His armour-bearer next), I well remember
How would he sit, attentive to my strain,
While to my harp I sung the harmless joys
Which crown a shepherd's life! How would he cry,
Bless'd youth far happier in thy native worth,
Far richer in the talent Heaven has lent thee,
Than if a crown hung o'er thy anxious brow.
The jealous monarch mark'd our growing friend-
ship;

And as my favour grew with those about him,
His royal bounty lessen'd, till at length,
For Bethlehem's safer shades, I left the court.
Nor would these alter'd features now be known,
Grown into manly strength; nor this changed form,
Enlarged with age, and clad in russet weed.

JESSE.

I have employment for thee, my loved son, Will please thy active spirit. Go, my boy, Haste to the field of war, to yonder camp, Where, in the vale of Elah, mighty Sauf Commands the hosts of Israel. Greet thy brothers; Observe their deeds, note their demeanour well, And mark, if on their actions Wisdom waits. Bear to them too (for well the waste of war Will make it needful) such plain healthful viands As furnish out our frugal shepherd's meal. And to the valiant captain of their host Present such rural gifts as suit our fortune; Heap'd on the board within my tent thou'lt find them.

Their high achievements bring. 'Tis in this view
That virtue is her proper recompense:
Wealth, as its natural consequence, will flow
From industry; toil with success is crown'd:
From splendid actions high renown will spring:
Such is the usual course of human things;
For Wisdom Infinite permits, that thus
Effects to causes be proportionate,
And natural ends by natural means achieved.
But in the future estimate which Heaven
Will make of things terrestrial, know, my son,
That no inferior blessing is reserved,

For the mild passive virtues : meek Content,
Heroic Self-denial, nobler far

Than all the achievements noisy Fame reports,
When her shrill trump proclaims the proud success
Which desolates the nations. But, on earth,
These are not always prosperous-mark the cause:
Eternal Justice keeps them for the bliss
Of final recompense, for the dread day
Of general retribution. O my son !
The ostentatious virtues which still press
For notice and for praise; the brilliant deeds
Which live but in the eye of observation,
These have their meed at once. But there's a joy,
To the fond votaries of fame unknown,
To hear the still small voice of Conscience speak
Its whispering plaudit to the silent soul.

Heaven notes the sigh afflicted Goodness heaves,
Hears the low plaint by human ear unheard,
And from the cheek of patient sorrow wipes
The tear, by mortal eye unseen or scorn'd.

DAVID.

As Hermon's dews their grateful freshness shed,
And cheer the herbage and the flowers anew,
So do thy words a quickening balm infuse,
And grateful sink in my delighted soul.

JESSE.

Go then, my child! and may the gracious God Who bless'd our fathers, bless my much-loved son'

DAVID.

Farewell, my father!-and of this be sure, That not one precept from thy honour'd lips Shall fall by me unnoticed; not one grace, One venerable virtue, which adorns Thy daily life, but I, with watchful care And due observance, will in mine transplant it. [Exit David.

JESSE.

He's gone! and still my aching eyes pursue,
And strain their orbs still longer to behold him.
Oh! who can tell when I may next embrace him?
Who can declare the counsels of the Lord ?
Or when the moment, pre-ordain'd by Heaven
To fill his great design, may come? This son,
This blessing of my age, is set apart
For high exploits; the chosen instrument
Of all-disposing Heaven for mighty deeds.
Still I recall the day, and to my mind
The scene is ever present, when the Seer,
Illustrious Samuel, to the humble shades
Of Bethlehem came, pretending sacrifice,
To screen his errand from the jealous king.
He sanctified us first, me and my sons;
For sanctity increased should still precede
Increase of dignity. When he declared
He came, commission'd from on High, to find,
Among the sons of Jesse, Israel's king,
Astonishment entranced my wondering soul!
Yet was it not a wild tumultuous bliss;
Such rash delight as promised honours yield
To light vain minds: no, 'twas a doubtful joy,
Chastised by timorous Virtue, lest a gift
So spiendid and so dangerous might destroy
Him it was meant to raise. My eldest born,
Eliab, tall of stature, I presented;

But God, who judges not by outward form,
But tries the heart, forbade the holy prophet
To choose my eldest born. For Saul, he said,
Gave proof that fair proportion, and the grace
Of limb or feature, ill repaid the want
Of virtue. All my other sons alike
By Samuel were rejected; till, at last,
On my young boy, on David's chosen head,
The prophet pour'd the consecrated oil.
Yet ne'er did pride elate him, ne'er did scorn
For his rejected elders swell his heart.
Not in such gentle charity to him

His haughtier brothers live: but all he pardons.

More suited to thy ignorance and years
The care of those, than here to wander idly:
Why cam'st thou hither?

DAVID.

Is there not a cause?
Why that displeasure kindling in thine eye,
My angry brother? why those taunts unkind?
Not idly bent on sport; not to delight
Mine eve with all this gay parade of war;
To gratify a roving appetite,

Or fondly to indulge a curious ear
With any tale of rumour, am I come;
But to approve myself a loving brother.
I bring the blessing of your aged sire,

With gifts of such plain cates and rural viands
As suit his frugal fortune. Tell me now,
Where the bold captain of your host encamps?

Than twice three cubits. On his towering head
A helm of burnish'd brass the giant wears,
So ponderous, it would crush the stoutest man
In all our hosts. A coat of mailed armour
Guards his capacious trunk; compared with which
The amplest oak, that spreads his rugged arms
In Bashan's groves, were small. About his neck
A shining corslet hangs. On his vast thigh
The plaited cuirass, firmly jointed, stands.
But who shall tell the wonders of his spear,
And hope to gain belief! Of massive iron

Its temper'd frame; not less than the broad beam
To which the busy weaver hangs his loom :
Not to be wielded by a mortal hand
Save by his own. An armour-bearer walks
Before this mighty champion, in his hand
Bearing the giant's shield. Thrice every morn
His herald sounds the trumpet of defiance!
Offering at once to end the long-drawn war
In single combat, 'gainst that hardy foe
Who dares encounter him.

DAVID.

Say, mighty Abner, What are the haughty terms of his defiance?

ABNER.

Proudly he stalks around the extremest bounds
Of Elah's vale. His herald sounds the note
Of offer'd battle. Then the furious giant,
With such a voice as from the troubled sky
In vollied thunder breaks, thus sends his challenge
"Why do you set your battle in array,
Ye men of Israel? Wherefore waste the lives
Of needless thousands? Why protract a war
Which may at once be ended? Are not you
Servants to Saul, your king? and am not 1,
With triumph let me speak it, a Philistine?
Choose out a man from all your armed hosts,
Of courage most approved, and I will meet him;
His single arm to mine. The event of this
Shall fix the fate of Israel and Philistia.
If victory favour him, then will we live
Your tributary slaves; but if my arm

Be crown'd with conquest, you shall then live ours
Give me a man, if your effeminate bands
A man can boast. Your armies I defy !"

DAVID.

What shall be done to him who shall subdue This vile idolater?

ABNER.

He shall receive

Such aniple bounties, such profuse rewards,
As might inflame the old, or warm the coward,
Were not the odds so desperate.

DAVID.

Say, what are they?

ABNER.

The royal Saul has promised that bold hero,
Who should encounter and subdue Goliath,
All dignity and favour; that his house
Shall be set free from tribute, and ennobled
With the first honours Israel has to give.
And for the gallant conqueror himself,
No less a recompense than the fair princess,
Our monarch's peerless daughter.

DAVID.

Beauteous Michal !
It is indeed a boon which kings might strive for.
And has none answer'd yet this bold defiance?
What! all this goodly host of Israelites !
God's own peculiar people! all afraid
To assert God's injured honour and their own?
Where is the king, who in his early youth [than ?
Wrought deeds of fame? Where princely Jona-
Not so the gallant youth Philistia fear'd
At Bozez and at Seneh; when the earth
Shook from her deep foundations, to behold
The wondrous carnage of his single hand
On the uncircumcised. When he exclaim'd,

With glorious confidence, "Shall numbers awe me?
God will protect his own: with him to save,
It boots not, friends, by many or by few."
This was a hero! Why does he delay

1 Samuel, xiv.

WHY was I made a king? what I have gain'd
In envied greatness and uneasy power,
I've lost in peace of mind, in virtue lost!
Why did deceitful transports fire my soul,
When Samuel plac'd upon my youthful brow
The crown of Israel? I had known content,
Nay happiness, if happiness unmix'd

To mortal man were known, had I still lived
Among the humble tents of Benjamin.
A shepherd's occupation was my joy,

And every guiltless day was crown'd with peace.,
But now, a sullen cloud for ever hangs
O'er the faint sunshine of my brightest hours,
Dark'ning the golden promise of the morn.
I ne'er shall taste the dear domestic joys
My meanest subjects know. True, I have sons,
Whose virtues would have charm'd a private man,
And drawn down blessings on their humble sire.
I love their virtues too; but 'tis a love
Which jealousy has poison'd. Jonathan
Is all a father's fondness could conceive
Of amiable and good-Of that no more!
He is too popular; the people dote
Upon the ingenious graces' of his youth.
Curs'd popularity! which makes a father
Detest the merit of a son he loves.
How did their fond idolatry, perforce,
Rescue his sentenced life, when doom'd by lot
To perish at Beth-aven, for the breach
Of strict injunction, that of all my bands
Not one that day should taste of food and live!
My subjects clamour at this tedious war;
Yet, of my num'rous armed chiefs, not one
Has courage to engage this man of Gath.
Oh for a champion bold enough to face
This giant-boaster, whose repeated threats
Strike through my inmost soul! There was a

time

Of that no more!-I am not what I was.
Should valiant Jonathan accept the challenge,
'Twould but increase his influence, raise his
fame,

And make the crown sit loosely on my brow.
Ill could my wounded spirit brook the voice
Of harsh comparison 'twixt sire and son.

Saul, Abner.

ABNER.

What meditation holds thee thus engaged,
O king! and keeps thine active spirit bound;

1 Samuel xiv.

When busy war far other cares demands Than ruminating thought and pale despair?

SAUL.

Abner, draw near. My weary soul sinks down
Beneath the heavy pressure of misfortune.
O for that spirit which inflamed my breast
With sudden fervour, when among the seers
And holy sages my prophetic voice
Was heard attentive, and the astonish'd throng,
Wondering, exclaim'd,-" Is Saul among the Pro
phets?"

Where's that bold arm which quell'd the Amalekite
And nobly spared fierce Agag and his flocks?
"Tis past! the light of Israel now is quench'd:
Shorn of his beams, my sun of glory sets!
Rise Moab, Edom, angry Ammon rise!
Come Gaza! Ashdod come! et Ekron boast,
And Askelon rejoice, for Saul is-nothing.