Saul
Lines:30Movement:Romanticism
Thou whose spell can raise the dead, Bid the Prophet's form appear. "Samuel, raise thy buried head! King, behold the phantom Seer!"Earth yawned; he stood the centre of a cloud:Light changed its hue, retiring from his shroud.Death stood all glassy in his fixéd eye;His hand was withered, and his veins were dry;His foot, in bony whiteness, glittered there,Shrunken and sinewless, and ghastly bare;From lips that moved not and unbreathing frame,Like caverned 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 Saul!"