A Celtic Psaltery Part 20

Israel's beauty is slain Here on Gilboa's high places, How are the mighty fallen And tears upon all our faces.

Tell it not now in Gath Or in Askelon's city name it, Lest Philistia's daughters rejoice And with songs of triumph proclaim it.

Let there be no more dew, Gilboa, upon thy mountains!

Over thy fields of offerings fair, Holden be all heaven's fountains.

For there the s.h.i.+eld of the mighty, Even Saul's s.h.i.+eld, to-day, As though he was ne'er the Anointed of G.o.d, Is vilely cast away.

Till the foe in his blood lay stricken Or cloven through and through, The bow of Jonathan turned not back, The sword of Saul still slew.

Lovely were they in their lives, In death undivided they lay, They were swifter than mountain eagles, Stronger than lions at bay.

Weep, ye daughters of Israel, Weep over Saul your King, Who clothed you with scarlet and decked you with gold And filled you with every good thing.

How are the mighty fallen, And all their boasts in vain!

There on Gilboa's high places, O Jonathan, thou wast slain.

Alas! my brother Jonathan, I am sore distressed for thee; For thou hast been very pleasant, Very pleasant to me.

Beyond the love of woman Was the love that for me you bore.

How are the mighty fallen And perished the weapons of war!

THE FIERY FURNACE

Bound into the furnace blazing They have cast the Children Three; But oh! miracle amazing, They arise, unscathed and free; While through paths of fire, to guide them, Paths no other foot has trod-- Lo! A Fourth is seen beside them, s.h.i.+ning like the Son of G.o.d.

Ah! not ours their saintly measure, Yet 'tis still our heart's desire, That Thou wouldst of Thy good pleasure, Teach us, too, to walk the fire-- Living lives of stern denial, Trusty toiler, helpmeet tried, Till grown fit for fiery trial, With our Saviour at our side.

RUTH AND NAOMI

When Judges ruled the tribes of Israel, A cruel famine on the people fell, Till even Bethlehem, the "House of Bread,"

For meat and drink at last was sore bestead.

Then when they called upon Jehovah's name, This answer to their heart's pet.i.tion came: "Send forth your strong into the land where Lot The might of Moab and his race begot--

"Your kinsfolk they: there still the streams run quick, Still gra.s.s and corn are laughing high and thick."

Therefore adventuring forth, the bold and strong Their famished flocks and herds drove each along,

Till Moab's high-set plain and warm, wide valleys Wherefrom clear-watered Arnon westward sallies, Rejoiced they reached: there welcome found and there Release from want, of wealth a goodly share.

With these Elimelech and his precious ones, His wife Naomi and his two brave sons, Mahlon and Chilion, Jordan's shrunken tide Crossed, and at Hesbon stayed and occupied.

And there they prospered for a blessed time Until Elimelech in his lordly prime, Hasting those cattle-spoilers to pursue, The ambuscading sons of Anak slew.

Then Chilion and Mahlon, by the voice Of their good mother guided, made their choice Amongst the maids of Moab for their wives: And so, a ten years' s.p.a.ce lived joyful lives.

Till pestilence o'ertook the brothers; naught Of wives' or mothers' care availed them aught, But, blessing both, their sight was quenched in gloom; Three widows wept o'er their untimely tomb.

Then when their days of mourning now were o'er, Fresh tidings came from Jordan's further sh.o.r.e: "Judaea's years of famine now are pa.s.sed, And joyous plenty crowns her fields at last."

Naomi then outspake: "Dear daughters lone, Yea, dearer for their sakes who now are gone Than if indeed ye were my very own Born children, hearken to Naomi's voice Who of all Moabs' maids made you her choice!

"Good wives and fond, as ever cherished Husband, were ye unto my two sons dead, Diligent weavers of their household wool, True joy-mates when their cup of bliss was full, Kind comforters in sorrow or in pain.

Alloy was none, but one to mar life's golden chain.

"No child, dear Orpah, loving Ruth, have ye To suckle or to dance upon your knee, No other sons have I your hearts to woo-- Grandchildren can be none from me to you.

Therefore, my daughters, O, consider well Since you are young, and fair and so excel In every homecraft, were it not more wise No longer to refuse to turn your eyes Towards the suitors brave who, now your days Of mourning are accomplished, fix their gaze Upon your goings? Verily now 'twere right That you should each a n.o.ble Moabite Espouse, till, with another's love accost, Your childless grief in motherhood be lost.

And I, why should I tarry longer here To be a burden on you year by year?

Kinsfolk and friends have I at Bethlehem Where plenty reigns; I will go back to them--"

Then much they both besought her to remain, And yet her purpose neither could restrain; Therefore her goods to gather she began Against the pa.s.sing of the caravan.

But Ruth and Orpah each prepared also Beside her unto Bethlehem to go.

And now the three stand ready, full of tears To quit the haunts of happy married years, The tombs that hid their lost ones. Staunchly then Naomi spoke her purpose once again: "Daughters, turn back, each to her mother's house To take the rest that there her work allows, And in due course a second husband find, Nor be unto the future foolish--blind!

Yet take a blessing from the heart of hearts Of your Naomi ere she hence departs."

She blessed them, and with voices lifted up In loud lament the dregs of sorrow's cup They drained together. Orpah, weeping, turned And slowly went, but Ruth with eyes that yearned Into Naomi's, cried aloud in pain: "Thus to forsake thee, urge me not again, Nor to return from following after thee!

For where thou goest, I will surely go.

And where thou lodgest, will I lodge also!

Thy people shall be my people evermore, And thy G.o.d only will I now adore!

And where thou diest, I will buried be!

So may Jehovah strike me with his thunder, If aught but only death our lives shall sunder."

Ruth's lips have sealed that solemn covenant, Then with Naomi hand in hand she went.

But as they slept that night there came to each The selfsame vision, though they ne'er had speech Thereon, till Obed's birth, Ruth's only son And David's grandsire; for they each saw one With Mahlon's aspect seated in the skies, And on his knees a babe with Ruth's own eyes, And by the infant's side one with a face Ruddy and bold, a form of Kingly grace, And in his hand a harp wherefrom he drew Marvellous music while his songs thereto Held hosts of angels hearkening in the blue.

Then figures floated o'er him faint and far Up to a Child who rode upon a star, And in the Heavenly wonder of his face, They read the Ransom of the Human Race.

THE LILIES OF THE FIELD AND THE FOWLS OF THE AIR

"Consider the lilies!" He spake as yet spake no man: "Consider the lilies, the lilies of the leas, They toil not, they spin not, like you, tired man and woman, Yet Solomon in his glory was not robed like one of these.

"Consider the lilies! Sure, if your Heavenly Father So clothe the meadow gra.s.ses that here flower free of scathe And to-morrow light the oven, now, say, shall he not rather Still of His goodness clothe you, O ye of little faith?