AY, this is he -- the bold and gentle boy, That in lone pastures by the mountain's side Guarded his fold, and through the midnight sky Saw on the blast the "God of battles" ride; Beheld his bannered armies on the height, And heard their clarion sound through all the stormy night. The valiant boy that o'er the twilight wold Tracked the dark lion and ensanguined bear; Following their bloody footsteps from the fold Far down the gorges to their lonely lair; This the stout heart, that from the lion's jaw Back o'er the shuddering waste the bleeding victim bore. Though his fair locks lie all unshorn and bare To the bold toying of the mountain wind, A conscious glory haunts the o'ershadowing air, And waits with glittering coil his brows to bind, While his proud temples bend superbly down, As if they felt e'en now the burden of a crown. Though a stern sorrow slumbers in his eyes, As if his prophet glance foresaw the day When the dark waters o'er his soul should rise, And friends and lovers wander far away; Yet the graced impress of that floral mouth Breathes of love's golden dream and the voluptuous South. Peerless in beauty as the prophet star, That in the dewy trances of the dawn Floats o'er the solitary hills afar, And brings sweet tidings of the lingering morn; Or weary at the day-god's loitering wain, Strikes on the harp of light a soft prelusive strain. So his wild harp with psaltery and shawm Awoke the nations in thick darkness furled, While mystic winds from Gilead's groves of balm Wafted its sweet hosannas through the world; So when the day-spring from on high he sang, With joy the ancient hills and lonely valleys rang. Ay, this is he -- the minstrel, prophet, king, Before whose arm princes and warriors sank; Who dwelt beneath Jehovah's mighty wing, And from the "river of his pleasures" drank; Or through the rent pavilions of the storm Beheld the cloud of fire that veiled his awful form. And now he stands as when in Elah's vale, Where warriors set the battle in array, He met the Titan in his ponderous mail, Whose haughty challenge many a Summer's day Rang through the border hills, while all the host Of faithless Israel heard and trembled at his boast. Till the slight stripling from the mountain fold Stood, all unarm'd, amid their sounding shields, And in his youth's first bloom, devoutly bold, Dared the grim champion of a thousand fields; So stands he now, as in Jehovah's might Glorying, he met the foe and won the immortal fight. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SAPPHIC SUICIDE NOTE by JAMES GALVIN REALITY REQUIRES by WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA THE COUNTESS CATHLEEN by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS AMERICA: SONNET 2 by SYDNEY THOMPSON DOBELL THE PHANTOM KISS by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR COMPANY COMMANDER by GUILLAUME APOLLINAIRE |