THE waters slept. Night’s silvery veil hung low On Jordan’s bosom, and the eddies curled Their glassy rings beneath it, like the still, Unbroken beating of the sleeper’s pulse. The reeds bent down the stream: the willow leaves With a soft cheek upon the lulling tide, Forgot the lifting winds; and the long stems Whose flowers the water, like a gentle nurse Bears on its bosom, quietly gave way, And leaned, in graceful attitude, to rest. How strikingly the course of nature tells By its light heed of human suffering, That it was fashioned for a happier world. King David’s limbs were weary. He had fled From far Jerusalem: and now he stood With his faint people, for a little space, Upon the shore of Jordan. The light wind Of morn was stirring, and he bared his brow, To its refreshing breath; for he had worn The mourner’s covering, and had not felt That he could see his people until now. They gathered round him on the fresh green bank And spoke their kindly words: and as the sun Rose up in heaven, he knelt among them there, And bowed his head upon his hands to pray. Oh! when the heart is full,――when bitter thoughts Come crowding thickly up for utterance, And the poor common words of courtesy, Are such a very mockery――how much The bursting heart may pour itself in prayer! He prayed for Israel: and his voice went up Strongly and fervently. He prayed for those, Whose love had been his shield: and his deep tones Grew tremulous. But, oh! for Absalom,―― For his estranged, misguided Absalom.―― The proud bright being who had burst away In all his princely beauty, to defy The heart that cherished him――for him he poured In agony that would not be controlled Strong supplication, and forgave him there, Before his God, for his deep sinfulness. * * * * * The pall was settled. He who slept beneath Was straightened for the grave: and as the folds Sank to the still proportions, they betrayed The matchless symmetry of Absalom.