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Oh, our manhood's prime vigor! No spirit feels waste,Not a muscle is stopped in its playing nor sinew unbraced. 70Oh, the wild joys of living! the leaping from rock up to rock,The strong rending of boughs from the fir-tree, the cool silver shockOf the plunge in a pool's living water, the hunt of the bear,And the sultriness showing the lion is couched in his lair.And the meal, the rich dates yellowed over with gold dust 75divine,And the locust-flesh steeped in the pitcher, the full draft of wine,And the sleep in the dried river-channel where bulrushes tellThat the water was wont to go warbling so softly and well.How good is man's life, the mere living! how fit to employAll the heart and the soul and the senses forever in joy! 80Hast thou loved the white locks of thy father, whose sword thou didstguardWhen he trusted thee forth with the armies, for glorious reward?Didst thou see the thin hands of thy mother, held up as men sungThe low song of the nearly-departed, and hear her faint tongueJoining in while it could to the witness, 'Let one more 85attest,I have lived, seen God's hand through a lifetime, and all was forbest'?Then they sung through their tears in strong triumph, not much, butthe rest.And thy brothers, the help and the contest, the working whence grewSuch result as, from seething grape-bundles, the spirit strainedtrue;And the friends of thy boyhood--that boyhood of wonder and 90hope,Present promise and wealth of the future beyond the eye's scope--Till lo, thou art grown to a monarch; a people is thine;And all gifts, which the world offers singly, on one head combine!On one head, all the beauty and strength, love and rage (like thethroeThat, a-work in the rock, helps its labor and lets the gold 95go)High ambition and deeds which surpass it, fame crowning them--allBrought to blaze on the head of one creature--King Saul!" X And lo, with that leap of my spirit--heart, hand, harp, and voice,Each lifting Saul's name out of sorrow, each bidding rejoiceSaul's fame in the light it was made for--as when, dare I 100say,The Lord's army, in rapture of service, strains through its array,And upsoareth the cherubim-chariot--"Saul!" cried I, and stopped,And waited the thing that should follow. Then Saul, who hung proppedBy the tent's cross-support in the center, was struck by his name.Have ye seen when Spring's arrowy summons goes right to the 105aim,And some mountain, the last to withstand her, that held (he alone,While the vale laughed in freedom and flowers) on a broad bust ofstoneA year's snow bound about for a breastplate--leaves grasp of thesheet?Fold on fold all at once it crowds thunderously down to his feet,And there fronts you, stark, black, but alive yet, your 110mountain of old,With his rents, the successive bequeathings of ages untold--Yea, each harm got in fighting your battles, each furrow and scarOf his head thrust 'twixt you and the tempest--all hail, there theyare!--Now again to be softened with verdure, again hold the nestOf the dove, tempt the goat and its young to the green on his 115crestFor their food in the ardors of summer. One long shudder thrilledAll the tent till the very air tingled, then sank and was stilledAt the King's self left standing before me, released and aware.What was gone, what remained? All to traverse, 'twixt hope anddespair;Death was past, life not come: so he waited. Awhile his 120right handHeld the brow, held the eyes left too vacant forthwith to remandTo their place what new objects should enter: 'twas Saul as before.I looked up and dared gaze at those eyes, nor was hurt any moreThan by slow pallid sunsets in autumn, ye watch from the shore,At their sad level gaze o'er the ocean--a sun's slow decline 125Over hills which, resolved in stern silence, o'erlap and entwineBase with base to knit strength more intensely: so, arm folded armO'er the chest whose slow heavings subsided.
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