For am not I a Philistine?

What strength may be compar'd to mine?

"Chuse ye a man of greatest might: And if he conquer me in fight, Then we will all servants be, King of Israel, unto thee.

But if I prove the victor, then Shall Saul and all his armed men Bend low beneath Philistian yoke."

Day by day these words he spoke, Singly traversing the ground.

But not an Israelite was found To combat man to man with him, Who such prodigious force of limb Display'd. Like to a weaver's beam The pond'rous spear he held did seem.

In height six cubits he did pa.s.s, And he was arm'd all o'er in bra.s.s.

Him we will leave awhile--and speak Of one, the soft down on whose cheek Of tender youth the tokens bare.

Ruddy he was and very fair.

David, the son of Jesse he, Small-siz'd, yet beautiful to see.

Three brothers had he in the band Of warriors under Saul's command; Himself at home did private keep In Bethlem's plains his father's sheep.

Jesse said to this his son: "David, to thy brothers run, Where in the camp they now abide, And learn what of them may betide.

These presents for their captains take, And of their fare inquiries make."

With joy the youth his sire obey'd.-- David was no whit dismay'd When he arrived at the place Where he beheld the strength and face Of dread Goliath, and could hear The challenge. Of the people near Unmov'd he ask'd, what should be done To him who slew that boasting one, Whose words such mischiefs did forebode To th' armies of the living G.o.d?

"The king," they unto David say, "Most amply will that man repay, He and his father's house shall be Evermore in Israel free.

With mighty wealth Saul will endow That man: and he has made a vow; Whoever takes Goliath's life, Shall have Saul's daughter for his wife."

His eldest brother, who had heard His question, was to anger stirr'd Against the youth: for (as he thought) Things out of his young reach he sought.

Said he, "What mov'd thee to come here, To question warlike men? say, where And in whose care are those few sheep, That in the wilderness you keep?

I know thy thoughts, how proud thou art: In the naughtiness of thy heart, Hoping a battle thou mayst see, Thou comest hither down to me."

Then answer'd Jesse's youngest son In these words: "What have I done?

Is there not cause?" Some there which heard, And at the manner of his word Admir'd, report this to the king.

By his command they David bring Into his presence. Fearless then, Before the king and his chief men, He shews his confident design To combat with the Philistine.

Saul with wonder heard the youth, And thus address'd him: "Of a truth, No pow'r thy untried sinew hath To cope with this great man of Gath."

Lowly David bow'd his head, And with firm voice the stripling said: "Thy servant kept his father's sheep.-- Rushing from a mountain steep There came a lion, and a bear, The firstlings of my flock to tear.

Thy servant hath that lion kill'd, And kill'd that bear, when from the field Two young lambs by force they seiz'd.

The Lord was mercifully pleas'd Me to deliver from the paw Of the fierce bear, and cruel jaw Of the strong lion. I shall slay Th' unrighteous Philistine this day, If G.o.d deliver him also To me." He ceas'd. The king said, "Go: Thy G.o.d, the G.o.d of Israel, be In the battle still with thee."

David departs, unarmed, save A staff in hand he chanc'd to have.

Nothing to the fight he took, Save five smooth stones from out a brook; These in his shepherd's scrip he plac'd, That was fasten'd round his waist.

With staff and sling alone he meets The armed giant, who him greets With nought but scorn. Looking askance On the fair ruddy countenance Of his young enemy--"Am I A dog, that thou com'st here to try Thy strength upon me with a staff--?"

Goliath said with scornful laugh.

"Thou com'st with sword, with spear, with shield, Yet thou to me this day must yield.

The Lord of Hosts is on my side, Whose armies boastful thou'st defied.

All nations of the earth shall hear He saveth not with shield and spear."

Thus David spake, and nigher went, Then chusing from his scrip, he sent Out of his slender sling a stone.-- The giant utter'd fearful moan.

The stone though small had pierced deep Into his forehead, endless sleep Giving Goliath--and thus died Of Philistines the strength and pride.

DAVID IN THE CAVE OF ADULLAM

(_Text of 1818_)

David and his three captains bold Kept ambush once within a hold.

It was in Adullam's cave, Nigh which no water they could have, Nor spring, nor running brook was near To quench the thirst that parch'd them there.

Then David, king of Israel, Strait bethought him of a well, Which stood beside the city gate, At Bethlem; where, before his state Of kingly dignity, he had Oft drunk his fill, a shepherd lad; But now his fierce Philistine foe Encamp'd before it he does know.

Yet ne'er the less, with heat opprest, Those three bold captains he addrest, And wish'd that one to him would bring Some water from his native spring.

His valiant captains instantly To execute his will did fly.

The mighty Three the ranks broke through Of armed foes, and water drew For David, their beloved king, At his own sweet native spring.

Back through their armed foes they haste, With the hard earn'd treasure graced.

But when the good king David found What they had done, he on the ground The water pour'd. "Because," said he, "That it was at the jeopardy Of your three lives this thing ye did, That I should drink it, G.o.d forbid."

THREE POEMS NOT IN _POETRY FOR CHILDREN_

SUMMER FRIENDS

The Swallow is a summer bird; He in our chimneys, when the weather Is fine and warm, may then be heard Chirping his notes for weeks together.

Come there but one cold wintry day, Away will fly our guest the Swallow: And much like him we find the way Which many a gay young friend will follow.

In dreary days of snow and frost Closer to Man will cling the Sparrow: Old friends, although in life we're crost, Their hearts to us will never narrow.

Give me the bird--'give me the friend-- Will sing in frost--will love in sorrow-- Whate'er mischance to-day may send, Will greet me with his sight to-morrow.

A BIRTH-DAY THOUGHT

Can I, all gracious Providence!

Can I deserve thy care: Ah! no; I've not the least pretence To bounties which I share.

Have I not been defended still From dangers and from death; Been safe preserv'd from ev'ry ill E'er since thou gav'st me breath?

I live once more to see the day That brought me first to light; Oh! teach my willing heart the way To take thy mercies right!

Tho' dazzling splendour, pomp, and show, My fortune has denied, Yet more than grandeur can bestow, Content hath well supplied.

I envy no one's birth or fame, Their t.i.tles, train, or dress; Nor has my pride e'er stretched its aim Beyond what I possess.

I ask and wish not to appear More beauteous, rich, or gay: Lord, make me wiser every year, And better every day.

THE BOY, THE MOTHER, AND THE b.u.t.tERFLY

[1827]

Young William held the b.u.t.terfly in chase, And it was pretty to observe the race Betwixt the Fly and Child, who nigh had caught him But for a merry jest his Mother taught him.

"My valiant Huntsman, fie!" she said, "for shame, You are too big a match for so small game, To catch the Hare, or nimble Squirrel try, Remember, William, He is BUT A FLY."

Not always is Humanity imprest By serious schooling; a light word or jest Will sometimes leave a moral sting behind When graver lessons vanish out of mind.