Watts - BX5200 .W3 1813 v.9

IaCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS. 351 24. Ye daughters of Israel, weep over Saul, who clothed you in scarlet with other delights, who put on ornaments of gold upon your apparel. 25. How are the mighty fallen in the midst of the battle ! O Jonathan, thou wert slain in thy high places ! 26. I am distressed for thee, my brother Jonathan; very pleasant hast thou been unto me; thy love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women. 27. How are the mighty fallen, and the weapons of war perished !" Paraphrased thus : I UNHAPPY day ! distressing sight! Israel, the land of heav'n's de- light, How is thy strength, thy beauty fled! On the high places of the fight Behold thy princes fall'n, thy sons of victory dead 2 Ne'er be it told in Gath,nor known Among the streets of Askelon: How wilt Philistia's youth rejoice And triumph in our shame, And girls with weak unhallowed voice Chant the dishonours of the Hebrew name! 3 Mountains of Gilboa, let no dew Nor fruitful show'rs descend on you: Curse on your fields thro' all the year, No fiow'ry blessings there appear, Nor golden ranks of harvest stand To grace the altar, or to feed the land. 'Twas in those inauspicious fields Judean heroes lost their shields : 'Twas there (ah base reproach and scandal of the day!) Thy shield, O Saul, was cast away, As tho' the prophets's horn had never shed It sacred odours on thy head. 4 The sword of Saul had ne're till now Awoke to war in vain, Nor Jonathan withdrawn his bow, Without an army slain. Where truth and honour mark'd their way, Not eagles swifter to their prey, Nor lions strong or bold as they, 5 Graceful in arms and great in war Were Jonathan and Saul. Pleasant in life, and manlyfair; Nor death divides the royal pair, And thousands share their fall. Daughters of Israel, melt your eyes To softer tears and swell your sighs, Disrob'd, disgrac'd your monarch .;es, On the bleak mountains pale and 'cold Ile made rich scarlet your array ; Bright were your looks, your bosoms gay. With gems of regal gift, and interwo- ven gold. How are the princes sunk in death ! Fall'n on this shameful ground 1 There my own Jonathan resign'd his breath : On the high places where he stood, He lost his honóurs and his blood ; Oh execrable arm that gave the mor- tal wound ! 7 My Jonathan, my better part, My brother, (and that dearer name) my frien d, I feel the mortal wound that reach'd thy heart, And here my comforts end. How pleasant was thy love to me! Amazing passion, strong and free ; No dangers could thy steady soul re- -move: Not the soft virgin loves to that degree, Nor man to that degree does the soft virgin love. To naine my joys, awakes my pain ; The dying friend runs cold through every vein. My Jonathan, my dying friend, How thick my Woes arise I Where will my sorrows end ? S Unhappy day ! distressing sight ! Israel the land of heaven's delight,. How are thy princes fall's, thy sons of victory slain ! The broken bow, the shiver'd speár With all the sully'd pomp of war, In rude confusion spread, Promiscuous lie among the dead, A lamentable rout o'er all the inglo- rious plain.

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