It is growing dark. At such a sunset I have been with Saul-- But saw it not. I only saw his eyes And the wild beauty of his roaming locks, And--Oh! there never was a man like Saul! Strong arm, and gentle heart and tender ways To win a woman’s very soul, were his. When he would take my hand and look on me, And whisper “Rizpah”--Ah! those days are gone! Why should I weep? was I not loved by Saul? And Saul was king of all the Land of God. “God save the king!” But, hush! what noise was that? Oh heaven! to think a mother’s eyes should look On such a sight! Away! vile carrion-beast! Those are the sons of Saul,--poor Rizpah’s sons. O my dead darlings! O my only joy! O sweet twin treasure of my lonely life, Since that most mournful day upon Gilboa, Torn from me thus! I have no tears to shed. O God! my heart is broken! Let me die! * * * * * Gilboa! David wrote a song on it, And had it put in _Jasher_--“Weep for Saul.” Armoni used to sing it to his harp. Poor blackened lips!······ ······I wonder if they dream, My pretty children······ ······Come, Mephibosheth, Here is your father; say “God save the king!” The Gibeonites! Ah! that was long ago. Why should they die for what they never did? No; David never would consent to that! * * * * * Whose son is he, this youth? Dost know him, Abner? Ha, ha! they shout again “God save the king.” * * * * * Was I asleep? I came not here to sleep. O poor old eyes, sorrow has made you weak. My sons! No, nought has touched them. O, how cold! Cold, cold! O stars of God, have pity on me, Poor lonely woman! O my sons, Saul’s sons! Kind stars, watch with me; let no evil beast Rend that dear flesh. O God of Israel, Pardon my sins! My heart is broken! NATALIE. I. Such a pretty, siren face Thine was, Natalie! Such a merry, winning grace Drew my heart to thee, In those distant, happy days When thy heart was free. II. Fearless then we gathered joy, Not a care had we, Happier girl and happier boy Well there could not be; In our bliss was no alloy, Playmate, Natalie. III. Time is cruel. Thou and I Parted, Natalie! And thy kissed lips said “Good bye! Surely write to me.” Thou wast then too young to sigh, Little Natalie! IV. One day, after years had flown, Something came to me, ’Twas a portrait of my own Playmate, Natalie,-- Natalie,--but not my own, Never mine to be! V.