David was a shepherd lad, beautiful as you, Sang within a shadowed tent to sooth a king's unrest. Oh, the bashful years in which he made the songs and hoarded them, By the other shepherd lads all unguessed. David's song is in a book, for stupid folk to bow before, Folk who think it wisdom, which is only lovely song. You are kin to him, you see beauty in a little moon, In branches bent to lash you with each faint gray thong. David, when he found his songs -- did he use to practice them For a little shepherd maid who marveled at each line? When he left his humble task, and drew the king from weariness -- She who heard the songs first, was her pride like mine? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FIRST FRUIT by ISAAC ROSENBERG FLANNAN ISLE by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON ODE ON THE PLEASURE ARISING FROM VICISSITUDE by THOMAS GRAY BETSY'S BATTLE FLAG by MINNA IRVING THE DOOMED MAN by JOSEPH ADDISON ALEXANDER A REMEMBERED FACE by EDMUND JOHN ARMSTRONG SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 18. A PORTRAIT by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |