THOU whose spell can raise the dead, Bid the prophet's form appear. -- 'Samuel, raise thy buried head! King, behold the phantom seer!' -- Earth yawn'd; he stood the centre of a cloud: Light changed its hue, retiring from his shroud. Death stood all glassy in his fixed eye; His hand was wither'd, and his veins were dry; His foot, in bony whiteness, glitter'd there, Shrunken and sinewless, and ghastly bare; From lips that moved not and unbreathing frame, Like cavern'd winds, the hollow accents came. Saul saw, and fell to earth, as falls the oak, At once, and blasted by the thunder-stroke. 'Why is my sleep disquieted? Who is he that calls the dead? Is it thou, O King? Behold, Bloodless are these limbs, and cold: Such are mine; and such shall be Thine to-morrow, when with me: Ere the coming day is done, Such shalt thou be, such thy son. Fare thee well, but for a day, Then we mix our mouldering clay. Thou, thy race, lie pale and low, Pierced by shafts of many a bow; And the falchion by thy side To thy heart thy hand shall guide: Crownless, breathless, headless fall, Son and sire, the house of Sanl!' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MOTHER TO SON by JAMES LANGSTON HUGHES TO MR. THOMAS SOUTHERNE, ON HIS BIRTHDAY, 1742 by ALEXANDER POPE WALLS by WILLIAM HERVEY ALLEN JR. BY THE SALPETRIERE by THOMAS ASHE LILIES: 14. THE AWAKING by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) AN AUGUST VOICE by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE FAREWELL. TO THE BRETHREN OF ST. JAMES'S LODGE, TARBOLTON by ROBERT BURNS |