THE
DEATH
OF
AMNON
.
A
POEM
.
THE
DEATH
OF
AMNON
.
CANTO
THE
FIRST
.
The
Royal
youth
I
sing
,
whose
sister's
charms
Inspir'd
his
heart
with
love
;
a
latent
love
That
prey'd
upon
his
health
;
he
droop'd
;
so
droops
A
beauteous
flow'r
,
when
in
the
stalk
some
vile
Opprobrious
insect
'
bides
.
In
conscious
pain
He
pass'd
the
hapless
hours
,
while
in
his
breast
Th'
aspiring
passion
,
yet
by
virtue
sway'd
,
It's
proper
limits
knew
.
I
love
,
said
he
,
Whom
do
I
love
?
my
sister
—
ah
;
my
sister
;
Can
I
my
misplac'd
passion
gratify
,
And
bring
disgrace
on
her
?
No
,
sweetest
maid
,
I
am
thy
brother
;
'tis
a
brother's
part
Thy
honour
to
protect
and
not
destroy
.
When
Shechem
burning
with
untam'd
desire
Dishonour'd
Dinah
,
how
her
brethren
rag'd
!
Each
took
his
sword
,
the
princely
ravisher
,
And
every
citizen
a
victim
fell
To
their
just
fury
.
I'm
an
Isra'lite
;
Shall
I
forego
this
high
prerogative
,
And
plunge
myself
and
sister
into
ruin
?
An
act
that
ev'n
an
heathen
would
degrade
.
No
;
sooner
shall
my
passion
unreveal'd
Lie
cank'ring
in
my
bosom
,
till
it
taints
My
very
blood
,
and
stops
my
panting
breath
.
Better
my
lov'd
companions
pass
my
grave
,
And
shed
a
tear
to
think
I
died
so
young
,
Than
shun
me
living
as
a
vile
reproach
To
nature
,
royalty
,
and
Israel
.
Already
I
perceive
my
strength
to
fail
,
The
ruddy
bloom
of
health
forsakes
my
cheeks
;
Perhaps
death's
not
far
off
.
—
O
welcome
guest
,
Hasten
thy
tardy
steps
,
why
linger'st
thou
,
Or
wait'st
on
those
,
who
wish
thee
far
away
?
O
thou
,
that
hast
the
pow'rs
of
life
and
death
,
Take
hence
my
life
,
and
end
my
wretchedness
.
A
spacious
land
I
see
on
ev'ry
side
Bless'd
with
fertility
;
the
cultur'd
vales
Yield
plenteous
crops
;
the
rising
hills
are
rich
,
With
verdant
pasture
mantled
,
crown'd
with
trees
;
My
father's
kingdom
this
.
—
What
is't
to
me
?
It
fires
not
my
ambition
,
all
I
ask
Is
one
small
spot
of
earth
to
lay
me
down
Beneath
the
turf
,
forgetting
and
forgot
,
A
small
request
,
and
yet
though
small
,
denied
.
Methinks
I
feel
my
strength
renew'd
;
'tis
so
;
Struggling
with
life
I
sigh
for
death
in
vain
.
Again
my
passions
rise
,
again
rebel
;
I
still
must
live
and
live
in
misery
.
But
I've
a
thought
,
that
stings
me
yet
more
deep
;
Doubtless
some
happy
rival
will
be
crown'd
With
Tamar's
love
;
O
tort'ring
thought
,
must
I
Behold
her
deck'd
in
bridal
robes
to
bless
A
rival
;
'tis
too
much
;
—
I
cannot
bear
E'en
to
suppose
it
,
I'll
from
court
retire
;
My
gay
companions
now
are
irksome
grown
,
And
all
my
pleasures
are
transform'd
to
pains
.
My
sister's
cheering
smiles
,
that
once
convey'd
Soft
raptures
to
my
heart
,
awake
such
pangs
,
As
I
can
scarce
endure
.
Again
I
feel
My
spirits
sink
;
Oh
!
welcome
fading
sickness
!
I'll
cherish
thee
and
aid
thee
with
my
sighs
,
To
still
this
heart
,
that
now
rebellious
beats
Against
my
reason's
strongest
argument
.
Though
Tamar's
beauty
prompts
my
warmest
wish
,
Her
fairer
virtues
keep
me
still
in
awe
,
Forbidding
my
aspir'ing
love
to
soar
.
With
sweet
simplicity
she
smiles
,
secure
In
innocence
,
commanding
my
respect
,
And
this
command
I
must
—
I
will
obey
;
But
fly
her
presence
,
lest
some
hapless
smile
Inflame
my
soul
,
and
I
in
passions
phrensy
Should
act
against
my
final
resolution
To
bear
my
griefs
untold
,
and
secret
pine
Till
sadd'ning
sorrow
sinks
me
to
the
grave
.
Thus
,
to
himself
complaining
,
he
resolv'd
,
Nor
sought
a
confidant
to
share
his
grief
.
A
friend
he
had
,
the
son
of
Shimeah
,
Nam'd
Jonadab
;
a
man
by
nature
subtle
,
Proud
and
ambitious
;
yet
would
meanly
stoop
To
the
most
base
and
most
ignoble
acts
,
To
serve
his
private
ends
.
The
artless
youth
Oft
to
his
plausibilities
gave
ear
,
Not
e'en
suspecting
,
that
beneath
the
cloak
Of
formal
flatt'ries
self-int'rest
hides
It's
serpent
head
.
Yet
still
the
youth
from
him
His
wayward
passion
labour'd
to
conceal
,
By
forcing
smiles
to
veil
his
grief
;
nor
knew
,
How
little
they
resemble
those
,
that
spring
From
gentle
impulses
of
hearts
at
ease
.
For
Jonadab
,
with
penetrating
eye
,
Quickly
discern'd
the
grief
,
he
strove
to
hide
.
What
cause
,
said
he
,
can
Amnon
have
to
mourn
?
A
King's
son
now
,
—
a
King
in
time
may
be
.
Was
it
in
probability
,
that
I
Should
be
a
King
,
the
very
contemplation
Would
shut
my
soul
to
sorrow
.
Oh
!
the
thought
Swells
my
imagination
.
Did
but
Amnon
Aspire
as
much
to
greatness
,
I
could
plot
Surprizing
stratagems
.
But
he
poor
Prince
Has
long
imbib'd
such
close
contracted
notions
,
As
bar
his
path
to
honour
.
Like
a
maid
.
He
talks
of
virtue
,
weeps
at
others
woes
,
Yet
talks
of
greatness
too
;
'tis
in
the
soul
,
He
says
,
all
greatness
dwells
;
'tis
not
the
crown
,
That
makes
his
father
great
,
but
'tis
his
virtues
;
And
those
alone
he
wishes
to
inherit
,
Thereby
to
gain
dominion
o'er
himself
,
And
reign
unenvi'd
;
but
perchance
there
now
Springs
in
his
soul
some
change
of
sentiment
;
And
he
his
principles
,
so
long
retain'd
,
Loth
to
renounce
,
may
want
a
friend
to
prompt
,
And
urge
him
to
the
attainment
of
his
will
.
Then
who
so
fit
for
such
a
talk
as
I
?
I'm
great
in
his
esteem
,
have
free
access
To
him
at
all
times
;
but
,
if
now
I'm
slack
,
Perhaps
I
may
be
rivall'd
in
his
favour
By
some
more
forward
to
promote
his
wish
.
I'll
to
him
straight
,
in
these
cool
ev'ning
hours
Into
his
private
garden
he
retires
,
Sighs
to
the
winds
,
and
to
the
moon
complains
.
But
I
must
him
approach
with
seeming
awe
,
As
fearful
to
disturb
his
solitude
,
And
with
a
gentle
flow
of
soothing
words
Insinuate
myself
into
his
soul
,
Then
guide
him
as
I
please
.
The
love-sick
youth
Beneath
the
thickest
solitary
shade
Was
wand'ring
,
lost
in
melancholy
mood
,
So
deep
in
thought
,
he
ne'er
perceiv'd
th'
approach
Of
Jonadab
,
till
startled
by
his
voice
;
Then
smil'd
,
as
usual
,
as
his
friend
drew
near
,
Who
thus
the
Royal
youth
address'd
—
Oh
!
why
Dost
thou
,
a
King's
son
,
pine
in
discontent
?
Can
there
be
ought
,
that's
unattainable
To
crown
thy
soul
with
peace
?
Thy
father's
kind
,
Too
fond
and
too
indulgent
to
refuse
A
son's
request
,
be
what
it
will
methinks
.
But
why
from
me
conceal
thy
griefs
?
am
I
A
friend
,
unworthy
of
thy
confidence
?
Have
I
e'er
been
unfaithful
to
my
trust
?
Or
has
some
jealous
whisperer
impos'd
Upon
my
Royal
friend's
credulity
,
To
vilify
his
faithful
Jonadab
?
Half
lost
in
thought
,
the
Prince
made
no
reply
.
And
Jonadab
a
while
suspended
stood
;
But
,
recollecting
,
took
his
hand
and
said
;
Why
weeps
my
Prince
?
what
sorrow
wounds
thy
heart
?
I
love
,
says
Amnon
;
and
his
hand
withdrew
To
wipe
his
tears
,
and
turn'd
from
Jonadab
:
Then
seems
returning
,
then
he
onward
goes
In
pensive
sadness
.
Jonadab
pursues
,
Resolv'd
to
urge
his
full
confession
,
lest
Some
other
should
be
made
his
confidant
,
And
he
discarded
,
lose
the
Prince's
favour
.
Amnon
return'd
,
as
ready
to
confess
As
he
to
hear
,
and
thus
his
speech
began
.
O
friend
,
I
love
—
I
love
thee
as
my
friend
,
And
such
thou
art
,
the
sharer
of
my
joys
;
All
my
delights
were
doubled
,
shar'd
with
thee
.
But
now
a
strange
dilemma
has
befall'n
me
;
I
would
not
speak
it
to
an
ear
but
thine
;
I
love
my
sister
Tamar
;
tell
it
not
,
My
reason
almost
fails
to
be
my
guide
.
This
passion
,
Oh
!
this
wild
rebellious
passion
,
If
cherish'd
,
fast
it
grows
as
noisome
weeds
,
And
,
if
suppress'd
,
still
strengthens
in
the
stalk
.
So
let
it
strengthen
,
till
,
too
strong
for
me
,
I
sink
beneath
its
weight
.
But
Jonadab
,
Ne'er
let
the
secret
pass
thy
lips
,
for
I
So
much
respect
and
honour
her
I
love
,
That
for
the
richest
diadem
on
earth
I
would
not
give
her
pain
;
her
heart's
so
prone
To
pity
,
it
would
burst
in
grief
for
me
,
Did
she
but
know
the
half
I
feel
for
her
.
Then
Jonadab
,
with
seeming
kind
affection
,
And
tears
of
sympathy
reply'd
;
kind
Prince
,
Distrust
me
not
,
thy
confidence
I
claim
;
Thou
know'st
the
feelings
of
my
friendly
heart
Admit
no
rest
,
if
Amnon
is
unhappy
;
Shall
David's
meanest
subjects
smile
secure
Beneath
his
prudent
equitable
sway
,
Their
least
complaints
regarded
?
and
his
son
Repine
without
redress
?
It
must
not
be
.
Amnon
reply'd
,
I
cannot
thee
distrust
,
And
if
thou
know'st
a
way
to
ease
my
heart
,
Discover
it
my
friend
,
for
I
despair
.
Dispel
those
useless
tears
,
says
Jonadab
:
Think
not
to
drown
it
in
those
briny
floods
;
Love
is
a
flame
those
waters
cannot
quench
;
Nor
is
there
any
cure
short
of
enjoyment
.
Then
there's
no
hope
for
me
,
the
Prince
reply'd
,
Till
the
kind
earth
receive
me
;
for
can
I
?
I
cannot
—
Oh
!
I
cannot
injure
her
.
Droop
not
,
my
gentle
friend
,
says
Jonadab
;
This
tim'rous
tenderness
but
ill
becomes
A
Royal
Prince
,
the
hope
of
Israel
,
The
son
of
David
;
think
but
who
thou
art
,
The
eldest
son
of
Israel's
mighty
King
;
Whose
dreaded
name
thro'
all
the
nations
round
Strikes
terror
to
his
enemies
,
and
fills
The
grateful
hearts
of
all
his
friends
with
joy
;
Whose
tongues
with
pleasure
tell
his
mighty
deeds
,
And
virgins
celebrate
his
fame
in
songs
;
While
Amnon
thus
effeminately
weeps
,
Like
some
fair
captive
maid
,
snatch'd
from
the
arms
Of
her
fond
lover
.
O
my
Royal
friend
,
Better
ten
thousand
injur'd
virgins
mourn
,
Than
David's
son
thus
live
inglorious
.
There
is
a
sort
of
viand
she
prepares
,
Unparallel'd
,
of
which
none
other
knows
The
just
proportion
of
ingredients
us'd
.
A
sickness
feign'd
might
veil
the
deep
design
,
And
put
her
in
thy
power
;
by
this
excuse
That
thou
canst
take
nought
else
;
nor
fear
but
she
Will
keep
the
secret
,
to
preserve
her
fame
.
After
a
little
pause
the
youth
reply'd
,
It
shall
be
so
;
—
but
yet
I
doubt
—
I
fear
—
If
I
—
I'll
think
no
more
of
consequences
,
I
am
determin'd
—
yes
,
it
shall
be
so
.
To-morrow
be
it
done
,
said
Jonadab
.
Amnon
reply'd
—
to-morrow
is
the
day
.
So
parted
they
that
night
;
and
Jonadab
,
In
conscious
pride
of
self-sufficiency
,
Thus
to
himself
his
Royal
friend
derides
.
Poor
thing
,
how
easily
he's
wrought
upon
?
In
time
the
kingdom
will
be
his
,
and
I
,
In
fact
,
shall
reign
,
though
he
the
title
bears
.
That
time
might
be
anticipated
,
but
Amnon
wants
courage
for
so
bold
a
stroke
.
He's
unambitious
,
nor
has
resolution
To
seize
a
tempting
crown
within
his
reach
;
But
should
it
gently
fall
upon
his
head
,
Perhaps
he'll
wear
it
,
if
some
bolder
hand
Don't
snatch
it
off
.
But
this
Amour
may
prove
A
clew
to
guide
to
greater
enterprizes
.
When
these
precise
ones
once
extend
beyond
The
bounds
their
narrow
minds
have
circumscrib'd
,
From
step
to
step
insensibly
they
go
,
Till
so
familiariz'd
by
custom
,
they
With
calmness
will
transact
the
very
things
,
Which
but
to
mention
,
ere
they
launch'd
so
far
,
They'd
shudder
at
.
But
I
must
wait
th'
event
.
So
saying
,
he
retir'd
to
take
repose
,
The
common
blessing
graciously
diffus'd
Through
Nature
,
to
refresh
her
wearied
sons
;
That
with
new
strength
and
vigour
they
may
hail
The
rising
day
,
rejoicing
in
the
light
.
CANTO
II
.
From
Ammon's
wasted
cities
,
with
the
crown
Of
Hanun
,
their
proud
contumacious
King
,
Whose
insolence
had
caus'd
his
overthrow
,
The
conquering
King
of
Israel
return'd
In
glorious
triumph
to
Jerusalem
;
There
from
exhausting
toils
of
bloody
war
In
safety
to
repose
his
wearied
soul
,
And
taste
the
sweets
of
calm
domestic
bliss
.
But
ere
the
tumults
of
triumphal
joy
Subsided
,
and
the
sacred
rites
perform'd
Of
general
praises
with
the
harp
and
song
,
The
King's
long-wish'd
tranquility's
disturb'd
By
the
sad
news
,
that
Amnon
,
his
dear
son
,
A
captive
now
to
dang'rous
sickness
lies
,
While
life
and
death
dispute
their
doubtful
right
.
The
pious
King
laid
down
his
harp
,
the
song
Unfinish'd
,
and
with
anxious
haste
repair'd
To
Amnon
,
whose
dissimulation
pass'd
Quite
unsuspected
.
How
could
he
suspect
A
fraud
of
such
sort
in
a
virtuous
son
?
Full
oft
a
partial
parent
overlooks
An
obvious
fault
,
or
by
affection
blind
Discerns
it
not
;
but
here
no
cause
appear'd
T'
awake
suspicion
,
for
his
languid
eyes
And
palid
cheeks
gave
signals
of
disease
.
While
thus
the
son
in
feeble
tone
complain'd
,
The
tender
father
stooping
low
to
hear
,
—
I'm
very
sick
,
and
whatsoever
food
My
servants
here
prepare
,
gives
me
disgust
.
My
sister
Tamar
,
with
superior
skill
,
Prepares
a
cake
delicious
to
my
taste
;
This
I
could
eat
methinks
from
her
kind
hand
,
Was
she
permitted
to
attend
me
here
.
The
King
with
fond
solicitude
retir'd
,
And
speedily
dispatch'd
a
messenger
To
Tamar
,
saying
,
'twas
his
royal
will
,
That
she
should
go
direct
to
Amnon's
house
,
And
there
administer
,
with
friendly
aid
,
Whate'er
his
sickly
appetite
demands
.
The
hour
had
pass'd
,
at
which
the
royal
maid
Came
from
her
closet
,
splendidly
attir'd
;
Her
hair
with
precious
sparkling
gems
beset
,
Faint
mimicks
of
her
more
illustrious
eyes
.
About
her
neck
a
shining
golden
chain
,
And
o'er
her
loosely
thrown
,
in
careless
folds
,
A
various
colour'd
robe
,
which
,
as
she
mov'd
,
Trail'd
on
the
ground
,
or
flutter'd
in
the
wind
.
Thus
all
the
virgin
daughters
of
the
King
In
splendid
raiment
shone
;
but
none
so
bright
In
beauty
,
as
the
daughter
of
Maacah
.
Soon
as
the
sun
had
drank
the
morning
dew
,
Into
her
garden
walk'd
the
lovely
fair
;
Not
like
a
proud
imperious
haughty
Queen
,
With
tossing
head
and
scornful
eyes
,
that
glar'd
Malignant
,
scattering
discontent
around
,
And
vain
in
fancied
greatness
.
Greater
she
In
inoffensive
modesty
,
and
bright
In
virtue
,
as
the
rays
that
gild
the
morn
,
Warming
the
flow'rs
to
ripeness
,
and
exhaling
Their
various
sweets
to
fill
the
garden
air
.
Pleas'd
with
the
grateful
smell
,
she
skips
about
From
flow'r
to
flow'r
,
and
cautiously
selects
The
sweetest
in
a
wreath
,
to
deck
that
breast
,
Which
never
yet
inflam'd
by
vicious
thought
,
Or
by
unreasonable
rebukes
depress'd
,
Had
felt
a
secret
pang
,
or
learn'd
to
sigh
.
But
oh
!
how
happy
for
the
mortal
race
,
That
from
their
eyes
the
future
is
obscur'd
;
Did
we
but
know
the
secret
ills
that
wait
In
darkness
to
surprize
us
,
what
would
be
Our
life
,
but
one
sad
scene
of
misery
?
All
present
pleasures
would
be
bitter
made
By
aggravating
thoughts
of
ills
to
come
.
But
blind
to
future
things
the
present
bless
.
When
peace
and
plenty
smile
auspiciously
,
The
heart
with
sense
of
Providence
impress'd
O'erflows
with
gratitude
,
and
conscious
joy
.
Such
joy
now
fill'd
the
royal
fair
one's
breast
,
Intent
on
the
formation
of
her
wreath
;
When
lo
!
her
handmaid
came
to
her
in
haste
,
With
tidings
,
that
a
message
had
arriv'd
Straight
from
the
King
,
declaring
his
desire
,
That
she
to
Amnon's
house
immediately
Would
go
,
and
dress
him
cakes
,
for
he
is
sick
.
The
King's
command
she
instantly
obey'd
;
Down
dropt
the
unfinish'd
wreath
;
she
skimm'dalong
O'er
the
parterres
,
nor
stay'd
to
find
the
path
.
Her
sweeping
garments
gently
brush'd
the
flow'rs
;
The
ripest
shedding
,
strew'd
the
way
she
went
With
variegated
fragments
.
So
the
breeze
Whisks
o'er
the
forest
,
and
some
shatt'ring
leaves
Fall
gently
rustling
thro'
the
shrubs
beneath
.
Then
,
gath'ring
up
her
robe
,
she
onward
sprang
,
And
sisterly
affection
urg'd
her
haste
.
Amnon
in
highest
expectation
lyes
Counting
the-slow-pac'd
moments
as
they
pass'd
;
Now
thinks
his
scheme's
discover'd
—
he's
betray'd
—
Or
some
curs'd
intervening
accident
Delays
,
perhaps
prevents
her
coming
.
Thus
Doubts
,
fears
,
and
wild
impatience
in
his
breast
Tumultuously
contended
,
till
she
came
,
With
all
the
feelings
of
a
tender
sister
;
But
not
a
thought
of
vile
licentious
love
Profan'd
her
breast
;
to
see
him
thus
she
wept
,
But
turning
,
wip'd
her
tears
,
suppress'd
her
grief
,
And
with
officious
haste
the
cakes
prepar'd
.
Wisdom
has
pow'r
,
like
the
meridian
fun
,
To
hide
all
other
brightness
in
its
glare
;
But
virgin
modesty
,
with
winning
smiles
,
Shines
a
perpetual
morning
.
So
she
shone
Serenely
mild
,
nor
knew
her
pow'r
to
please
.
But
oh
!
the
graceful
dignity
of
virtue
Unthinking
captivates
the
worthy
soul
,
The
feebly
good
with
emulation
fires
,
And
strikes
the
very
libertines
with
awe
.
So
Amnon
,
aw'd
to
see
her
lovely
form
,
Became
irresolute
;
and
recantation
Stagger'd
his
purpose
.
—
First
he
paus'd
;
then
thus
Expostulating
with
himself
he
lay
;
Oh
!
how
can
I
despoil
this
lovely
maid
,
This
fairest
of
the
fair
?
I
cannot
—
no
—
I'll
let
her
go
untouch'd
.
But
then
must
I
Still
pine
in
languishment
,
as
heretofore
;
And
Jonadab
will
at
my
weakness
laugh
.
At
last
some
wine
he
snatch'd
,
and
eager
drank
To
drown
his
scruples
,
and
to
fire
his
soul
.
Such
aid
the
most
abandoned
oft
require
,
When
unsuspecting
innocence
at
once
Tempts
and
forbids
,
more
pow'rfully
forbids
,
Than
the
persuasive
eloquence
of
speech
.
But
the
defence
,
which
innocence
can
boast
With
tears
and
mild
intreaties
,
is
but
weak
,
When
love
and
wine
unite
their
frantick
pow'rs
,
And
leaving
virtue
fainting
in
the
rear
,
Rush
on
impetuous
.
—
Hapless
Tamar
thus
To
lawless
outrage
falls
th'
unwilling
prey
.
CANTO
III
.
Heav'n
gave
to
man
superior
strength
,
that
he
The
weaker
sex
might
succour
and
defend
;
But
he
that
dares
pervert
this
giv'n
blessing
,
To
ruin
and
destroy
their
innocence
,
Shall
feel
pursuing
vengeance
,
nor
escape
Her
rod
uplifted
,
nor
avert
the
stroke
.
Conviction's
sword
shall
pierce
him
,
and
remorse
With
all
the
tortures
of
the
mind
assail
,
Till
he
a
victim
falls
to
grim
despair
;
Except
repentance
timely
to
his
aid
Come
with
her
tears
,
to
sooth
,
to
mitigate
;
While
her
attendant
hope
extends
a
ray
,
To
point
where
mercy
spreads
her
healing
wings
,
Nor
e'en
with
this
is
vengeance
satisfied
,
She'll
still
pursue
with
some
external
ills
,
Exhausted
health
and
spirits
;
—
drooping
—
drear
,
An
outcast
of
society
he
roams
,
Alike
discarded
by
his
friends
and
foes
;
Perhaps
assassination
proves
his
end
.
The
hapless
Amnon
from
his
couch
arose
,
Inflam'd
with
hatred
more
than
once
with
love
.
Frantick
with
keen
remorse
and
conscious
guilt
,
He
rav'd
—
he
stamp'd
—
when
to
him
Jonadab
Came
to
congratulate
him
;
but
the
Prince
Shot
from
his
eyes
a
keen
malignant
glance
,
That
spoke
displeasure
,
and
with
threat'ning
hand
Upheld
,
thus
in
an
angry
tone
began
:
Hence
from
my
sight
,
thou
basest
,
worst
of
fiends
,
Nor
ever
dare
approach
my
presence
more
.
Struck
with
this
strange
reception
,
Jonadab
Step'd
back
,
and
bowing
with
respectful
awe
,
Said
,
—
O
my
Prince
,
why
am
I
thus
discarded
?
I
still
remain
thy
well
affected
friend
,
Ready
to
—
prompt
me
,
(
interrupts
the
Prince
)
To
do
some
greater
crime
than
I
have
done
.
Curse
on
thy
instigations
;
to
my
heart
,
My
inexperienc'd
heart
thou
drilld'st
a
way
T'
infuse
licentiousness
;
and
thou
a
friend
?
Ere
thou
presum'st
to
take
that
sacred
name
,
Abandon
thy
base
principles
,
and
learn
'Tis
virtue
only
constitutes
a
friend
.
He
paus'd
—
th'
astonish'd
Jonadab
approach'd
Nearer
to
Amnon
;
beg'd
him
to
resume
His
wonted
calmness
,
but
to
hear
him
speak
.
I'll
hear
no
more
of
thee
,
reply'd
the
Prince
;
I'm
lost
,
I'm
irrecoverably
lost
:
What
were
the
pains
I
felt
to
those
I
feel
?
An
hell
within
me
burns
,
and
deep
remorse
,
That
never
dying
worm
,
now
gnaws
my
soul
;
And
thou
,
my
instigator
.
Villain
,
flee
,
Lest
this
my
crime
I
complicate
with
murder
.
Then
Jonadab
withdrew
chagrin'd
,
and
full
Of
ran'crous
malice
;
mutt'ring
as
he
went
,
Shall
murder
crown
thy
crime
young
man
?
—
it
shall
;
But
thou
the
murder'd
,
—
not
the
murderer
.
I'll
hence
to
Absalom
,
the
brother
kind
Of
this
fair
injur'd
maid
;
he
doubtless
will
Avenge
her
wrongs
,
and
shew
himself
a
brother
.
He
has
a
noble
,
calm
,
undaunted
spirit
;
Deliberately
resolute
,
and
fit
For
such
an
enterprize
;
and
Jonadab
Shall
not
be
slack
to
aggravate
the
crime
,
And
urge
him
on
,
or
aid
him
,
if
requir'd
.
But
I
must
veil
my
real
sentiments
With
counterfeited
sorrow
,
and
observe
Each
secret
movement
of
his
varying
soul
,
And
sympathise
with
him
.
Young
Absalom
Returning
from
the
fields
,
where
he
had
been
To
view
his
teeming
flocks
,
jocund
and
gay
,
In
all
the
sprightliness
of
youth
and
beauty
,
Upon
his
slow-pac'd
mule
rode
gently
on
In
careless
attitude
,
and
smil'd
to
see
All
nature
smile
around
;
when
Jonadab
,
With
solitary
gait
,
approach'd
,
then
turn'd
Aside
,
as
if
to
shun
the
Royal
youth
;
Which
Absalom
perceiving
,
stopp'd
his
mule
,
And
leaning
on
his
neck
,
with
courteous
air
Thus
Jonadab
in
gentlest
tone
address'd
:
What
mean
those
solemn
looks
,
that
down-cast
eye
?
Now
peace
and
plenty
bless
our
happy
land
:
Joy
should
methinks
extend
its
cheering
ray
To
ev'ry
individual
;
but
thou
Look'st
half
dejected
,
wand'ring
in
the
fields
At
this
late
hour
;
the
day
is
in
decline
;
The
shepherds
to
their
folds
have
led
their
flocks
,
And
to
their
peaceful
homes
are
hast'ning
.
Come
,
Return
with
me
,
my
friend
,
nor
farther
go
;
If
ought
distress
thee
,
hide
it
not
from
me
,
I
have
an
heart
to
feel
for
the
distress'd
;
An
hand
too
ever
ready
to
revenge
The
wrongs
impos'd
by
violence
and
injustice
Smile
and
be
happy
,
said
the
Royal
youth
;
And
rising
from
his
leaning
posture
,
look'd
So
gracefully
endearing
and
so
kind
,
That
Jonadab
thus
ventur'd
to
begin
:
—
'Tis
not
for
me
to
smile
,
most
noble
Prince
,
While
inconsolable
and
unredress'd
,
Dishonour'd
Tamar
weeps
in
bitter
woe
,
Dishonour'd
,
and
by
whom
?
says
Absalom
,
Name
but
the
villain
,
vengeance
on
his
head
Shall
instant
fall
;
this
hand
shall
strike
the
blow
.
Earth
,
canst
thou
bear
the
wretch's
feet
to
touch
Thy
surface
,
and
not
groan
?
Whoe'er
he
be
,
The
miscreant
shall
not
see
to-morrow
'
sun
.
Too
hasty
,
Prince
,
says
Jonadab
;
be
calm
;
Recall
the
fatal
sentence
;
tis
too
much
To
raise
thine
hand
against
a
brother's
life
,
Thine
elder
brother
—
Brother
,
said
the
Prince
,
And
is
it
possible
my
brother
thus
Sould
be
deprav'd
?
my
brother
Amnon
too
?
O
virtue
,
where
dost
thou
reside
,
if
not
In
Amnon
?
but
if
he's
thus
lost
to
shame
,
It
cancels
all
the
duty
that
I
owe
him
;
Henceforth
shall
intercourse
between
us
cease
,
Till
I
have
form'd
a
scheme
to
be
reveng'd
;
Amnon
shall
die
,
and
die
by
Absalom
.
Go
Jonadab
,
go
home
,
and
secret
keep
This
purpose
of
my
soul
;
—
I'll
be
thy
friend
,
Said
Absalom
.
—
Then
,
onward
as
he
pass'd
,
Thus
Jonadab
congratulates
himself
:
Oh
!
happy
I
,
no
sooner
have
I
lost
The
favour
of
one
Prince
,
but
I
have
gain'd
Another
;
Absalom
is
more
aspiring
;
Not
cool
and
passive
,
like
the
silly
Amnon
,
But
pants
to
rule
;
he
has
a
kingly
spirit
.
Once
in
his
garden
,
as
I
lay
conceal'd
,
I
heard
him
in
soliloquy
,
"
Oh
!
to
reign
—
To
wield
a
sceptre
and
establish
laws
;
Oh
!
did
the
people
seek
to
me
for
judgment
,
And
Princes
wait
for
my
decisive
voice
,
Ere
they
the
cause
determin'd
;
could
I
hear
The
loud
applauding
multitude
exclaim
,
Long
live
King
Absalom
.
"
—
He's
fit
to
rule
.
When
Amnon
is
dispatch'd
,
perhaps
he
may
Assume
the
kingdom
—
Be
it
so
,
and
I
Will
be
his
ready
agent
,
if
he
please
,
To
aid
his
plots
,
or
form
them
.
Oh
!
how
sweet
The
counsel
that
is
fram'd
to
please
our
wills
,
How
readily
adopted
;
how
despis'd
That
which
is
adverse
,
be
it
e'er
so
good
.
But
dear
,
dear
self
stands
first
in
the
account
Of
friends
,
and
that's
the
friend
I'll
ever
serve
:
Whether
to
Amnon
or
to
Absalom
I
pay
external
homage
.
If
to
me
This
Absalom
proves
too
imperious
,
I'll
aid
the
King
,
and
keep
myself
secure
.
Ay
—
that's
the
centre
to
which
I
must
point
All
schemes
and
plots
;
then
smiling
as
he
went
,
With
eager
pace
he
hasten'd
to
his
home
.
Grief
and
revenge
now
labour'd
in
the
breast
Of
Absalom
;
but
artfully
he
hides
The
struggling
passions
;
a
composure
feign'd
,
Sits
on
his
countenance
with
placid
ease
;
And
he
in
seeming
gaiety
rode
home
.
His
servants
there
in
readiness
attend
,
Each
anxious
to
receive
the
first
command
;
Nor
fear
unjust
reproofs
,
nor
angry
frowns
,
Th'
unwelcome
greetings
of
imperious
Lords
.
Too
oft
do
masters
,
void
of
judgment
,
check
,
By
froward
peevishness
and
discontent
,
The
many
little
assiduities
,
Which
otherwise
a
servant's
zeal
would
mark
,
Nor
make
distinction
between
good
and
bad
;
But
Absalom
,
with
nicest
judgment
,
scans
Their
merits
and
defects
;
he
in
reproof
Is
slowly
cautious
,
and
exactly
just
;
No
clam'rous
oaths
re-eccho
thro'
his
hall
,
Nor
mutt'ring
servants
whisper
imprecations
;
Tho'
affable
and
courteous
,
yet
he
ne'er
To
low
familiarity
descends
;
But
with
great
dignity
is
nobly
kind
,
Reigns
in
their
hearts
,
and
by
enliv'ning
smiles
Encourag'd
,
they
spontaneously
attend
,
And
love
completes
their
servitude
with
joy
,
So
now
,
as
always
at
their
lord's
approach
,
A
secret
transport
thrill'd
thro'
ev'ry
heart
.
The
gate
one
open'd
,
one
receiv'd
the
mule
,
Whilst
he
dismounting
with
a
sprightly
bound
,
Tripp'd
lightly
o'er
the
pavement
;
and
those
eyes
Which
ever
spread
serenity
around
,
Sparkled
with
seeming
pleasure
till
he
came
,
Ent'ring
his
mansion
,
to
where
Tamar
sat
In
the
most
striking
attitude
of
woe
;
Her
head
,
bestrew'd
with
ashes
and
reclin'd
,
One
trembling
hand
supported
;
th'
other
hid
Among
the
fragments
of
her
robe
,
which
she
In
the
first
agonies
of
her
grief
had
torn
.
He
stopp'd
,
turn'd
pale
;
then
in
his
changing
face
Resentment
flush'd
,
and
sorrow
swell'd
his
heart
,
Which
lab'ring
to
suppress
he
trembling
stood
;
But
like
a
torrent
,
which
breaks
down
a
bank
New
rais'd
to
stop
its
course
,
so
burst
his
grief
Thro'
all
his
feign'd
composure
.
In
his
arms
He
clasp'd
the
grieving
fair
,
and
mutual
tears
Proclaim'd
the
anguish
of
their
burden'd
hearts
,
But
tho'
his
sorrow
thus
had
burst
its
bounds
,
Revenge
in
ambush
lurk'd
,
while
thus
the
Prince
With
soothing
words
his
sister
thus
address'd
,
—
I
know
the
sad
occasion
of
thy
woe
;
But
he's
thy
brother
;
silent
bear
thy
wrongs
,
Nor
by
immod'rate
grief
enhance
the
ill
Which
cannot
be
redress'd
.
No
blame
is
thine
;
My
sister
still
in
heart
is
undesil'd
.
Tamar
attempts
reply
;
but
from
their
springs
In
swifter
currents
flow'd
the
briny
pearls
;
At
length
the
pow'r
of
speech
return'd
,
the
fair
Heav'd
a
deep
sigh
,
and
thus
her
moan
began
,
—
O
injury
unparallel'd
!
O
deed
More
cruel
than
the
murd'rers
deadly
blow
!
He
takes
our
life
,
'twas
lent
but
for
a
time
;
Perhaps
some
years
—
perhaps
a
day
—
an
hour
:
But
he
that
robs
a
woman
of
her
honour
,
Robs
her
of
more
than
life
;
—
a
brother
too
Still
aggravates
the
guilt
.
—
O
purity
,
Thou
first
of
female
charms
,
to
thee
we
owe
Our
dignity
;
which
,
if
in
meekness
clad
,
Gives
us
insuperable
pow'r
;
but
,
if
Of
this
depriv'd
,
our
most
presumpt'ous
claim
Is
cool
compassion
.
O
dejected
state
!
That
humble
homage
we
receive
from
men
,
In
such
proportion
as
our
virtue
fails
,
Diminishes
.
Th'
inestimable
gem
,
More
precious
than
fine
gold
or
rubies
,
—
far
Outvies
the
dazzling
rays
of
beaut'ous
forms
,
Which
like
gay
meteors
but
excite
our
gaze
,
Then
fade
away
.
But
this
pre-eminence
No
more
I
boast
;
now
stamp'd
with
infamy
,
That
due
respect
,
that
def'rence
ever
paid
To
my
exalted
state
shall
hence
be
chang'd
To
scorn
:
tho'
by
the
dignity
of
birth
Protected
from
low
insult
,
can
I
'scape
The
meaning
leer
,
the
vain
contemptuous
smile
,
Or
,
the
more
humbling
pity
of
the
proud
?
Such
moving
strains
in
Absalom
call'd
forth
All
the
fond
raptures
of
fraternal
love
;
Who
thus
consol'd
her
grief
,
—
thou
ne'er
shalt
be
Abandon'd
to
the
scorn
of
taunting
dames
,
Who
triumph
in
the
downfal
of
the
fair
.
My
home
be
ever
thine
;
in
me
behold
Thy
guardian
,
brother
,
friend
,
companion
kind
.
'T
shall
be
my
earliest
and
my
latest
care
,
With
chearful
converse
to
enliv'n
thy
hours
;
All
thou
canst
with
,
which
I
have
pow'r
to
grant
,
Expect
from
me
.
His
sister
gave
her
hand
,
An
earnest
of
conformity
—
he
press'd
The
giv'n
pledge
;
her
grateful
heart
reply'd
,
—
O
brother
,
always
kind
,
now
doubly
so
,
To
ope
thy
friendly
arms
in
this
distress
,
And
take
me
to
protection
:
I
accept
Thy
offer'd
boon
.
Farewell
,
ye
courtly
scenes
;
No
more
shall
Tamar
shine
in
your
resorts
;
But
here
recluse
and
tranquil
ever
'
bide
;
Regaling
in
that
never-cloying
feast
,
Th'
internal
calm
of
an
untainted
mind
.
This
none
can
ravish
from
me
;
this
is
life
.
That
God
which
rais'd
my
father
to
the
throne
,
And
still
protects
him
with
his
pow'rful
arm
,
Shall
be
my
all
in
all
.
To
him
I'll
pray
Incessant
,
and
the
great
Jehovah's
name
Shall
fire
my
theme
,
and
fill
my
heav'nly
song
.
CANTO
IV
.
Now
solemn
evening
drew
her
silent
veil
O'er
smiling
nature
,
and
the
pious
King
In
supplication
spent
the
sacred
hour
With
special
fervour
,
making
intercession
To
the
great
sole
dispenser
of
all
good
To
bless
his
son
,
and
soon
restore
his
health
.
He
scarce
had
ended
prayer
,
when
tidings
came
That
Jonadab
beg'd
audience
.
—
The
King
Eager
to
learn
,
thus
instantly
reply'd
,
Go
send
him
hither
;
welcome
to
my
soul
Is
Jonadab
,
my
Amnon's
social
friend
;
He
doubtless
comes
to
bring
me
news
of
him
.
He
enters
.
—
Thus
the
King
,
—
O
Jonadab
,
How
does
thy
friend
,
my
son
,
my
Amnon
now
?
Amnon
is
well
,
O
King
,
says
Jonadab
.
Is
well
!
return'd
the
astonish'd
King
,
is
well
!
'Tis
but
few
hours
since
I
myself
him
saw
,
And
saw
him
sick
,
—
and
say'st
thou
now
he's
well
;
Thou
know'st
it
not
,
which
much
I
wonder
at
,
Because
I
know
he
loves
thee
;
go
now
to
him
,
Go
act
a
friendly
part
,
go
comfort
him
,
I
tell
thee
he
is
sick
.
—
Says
Jonadab
,
I
can
inform
thee
of
the
whole
device
Of
his
pretended
sickness
.
Then
the
King
,
—
Say'st
thou
pretended
sickness
?
If
there
is
Dissimulation
in
my
son
,
declare
it
;
I'll
hear
thee
;
—
but
take
heed
thou
slander
not
,
Nor
censure
him
unjustly
,
on
thy
life
.
Amnon
has
not
been
sick
,
says
Jonadab
;
'Twas
but
a
feint
to
lure
his
sister
there
To
his
embraces
,
and
he
has
succeeded
.
What
do
I
hear
?
reply'd
the
King
;
my
son
Defil'd
my
daughter
!
Rising
as
he
spoke
,
With
indignation
flashing
from
his
eyes
;
Forth
from
his
house
he
rush'd
with
hasty
steps
To
Amnon
,
who
was
unprepar'd
to
see
This
unexpected
visitant
:
The
youth
Already
self-convicted
,
now
abash'd
,
Ne'er
ventur'd
once
to
raise
his
down-cast
eyes
,
But
speechless
and
confounded
stood
to
hear
His
sharp
rebuke
;
when
thus
the
King
began
:
—
O
son
,
thou
shameful
troubler
of
my
house
;
What
hast
thou
done
?
Where
are
thy
princely
virtues
Inculcated
so
long
?
Now
blasted
all
.
My
elder-born
,
my
first
,
my
greatest
joy
,
Thus
to
debase
thyself
,
thou
that
should'st
be
The
first
in
virtue
,
as
the
first
in
birth
.
How
can
a
Prince
,
himself
debas'd
with
crimes
,
Aspire
to
judge
and
punish
wicked
men
?
In
which
of
all
my
sons
can
I
confide
,
Now
Amnon
fails
,
whom
I
have
faultless
deem'd
?
Thou
bitter
herb
,
—
thou
blemish
of
my
honour
;
How
can
I
brook
this
foul
disgrace
?
Must
I
For
ever
bear
confusion
in
my
face
,
And
blush
for
thee
,
thou
worse
than
enemy
?
Amnon
,
no
longer
able
to
support
Such
just
reproof
,
in
silence
turn'd
away
,
And
bursting
into
tears
withdrew
.
—
The
King
Return'd
with
anger
burning
in
his
breast
,
Mingled
with
sorrow
for
his
daughter's
wrongs
;
My
daugher
!
Oh
!
my
daughter
!
he
exclaim'd
,
I
would
avenge
thy
wrongs
;
but
oh
!
if
I
Avenge
my
daughter
,
I
destroy
my
son
.
Then
,
all
a
father's
tenderness
prevail'd
,
He
wept
,
—
his
wrath
subsided
and
he
paus'd
,
His
own
past
failings
rising
in
his
mind
;
His
guilty
love
for
Bathsheba
—
he
sigh'd
Her
murder'd
husband
;
shudd'ring
at
the
thought
,
He
saw
no
way
to
sooth
the
present
ills
But
suff'ring
and
forbearance
.
—
Then
the
King
,
As
if
the
stroke
came
from
the
hand
of
Heav'n
,
Fell
prostrate
to
the
earth
,
submitting
thus
:
Righteous
art
thou
,
O
Lord
,
and
all
thy
judgments
just
,
Amnon
mean
while
,
with
piercing
grief
oppress'd
,
Doubled
by
th'
fore
displeasure
of
the
King
,
Sat
down
and
wept
,
while
tears
supply'd
their
streams
.
Then
rising
,
walk'd
about
with
restless
steps
,
And
thus
in
bitter
agonies
complain'd
:
What
am
I
now
,
and
where
?
Of
late
I
pin'd
In
hopeless
love
,
yet
then
I
had
some
stay
,
An
heart-felt
innocence
,
that
could
support
And
cheer
the
drooping
spirits
.
But
alas
!
Virtue
has
left
me
now
,
and
I'm
expos'd
;
Expos'd
to
what
?
to
what
,
alas
!
I
know
not
;
'Tis
Hell
itself
bursts
in
upon
my
soul
,
And
pours
forth
all
its
torments
.
—
Terrors
!
Death
!
O
irrecoverable
innocence
!
Where
art
thou
gone
?
for
ever
banish'd
hence
.
Arise
ye
thickest
mists
,
ye
darkest
clouds
O'er-cast
those
twinkling
stars
.
O
sable
night
,
Wrap
me
in
deepest
shades
,
nor
let
a
beam
Of
penetrating
light
expose
me
more
;
Darkness
is
fitted
to
the
guilty
mind
That
shrinks
and
starts
at
ev'ry
glimmering
ray
.
But
oh
!
it
is
not
in
the
pow'r
of
darkness
To
hide
the
hated
self
from
self
;
within
A
sacred
light
perpetually
shines
,
Exposingev'ry
failure
to
the
sense
,
That
vainly
struggles
to
compose
the
mind
,
And
hush
her
sad
inquietudes
to
peace
.
But
peace
,
the
guest
of
innocence
alone
,
Takes
an
eternal
leave
when
guilt
intrudes
,
And
now
has
took
eternal
leave
of
me
.
Ah
!
wretched
me
!
Oh
!
curse
on
vicious
friends
!
Had
Jonadab
advis'd
me
virtuously
,
I'd
still
been
innocent
,
and
Tamar
pure
;
My
father
still
had
smil'd
on
me
with
joy
,
Nor
had
I
trembled
at
his
chiding
frowns
;
Absalom
would
have
call'd
me
brother
still
,
But
now
he'll
own
me
not
.
—
This
slight
is
just
,
And
this
the
least
part
of
my
punishment
;
For
inward
guilt
has
yet
severer
pangs
.
So
wander'd
he
,
complaining
half
the
night
,
Then
sought
for
rest
in
sleep
,
but
sought
in
vain
:
Terrific
dreams
invade
his
wish'd
repose
.
He
sleeps
,
starts
,
wakes
;
—
then
sleeps
and
starts
again
;
And
rises
soon
,
but
not
to
meet
the
morn
With
joy
as
heretofore
;
but
to
bewail
The
loss
of
that
sweet
calm
that
ever
dwells
Within
the
guiltless
breast
;
and
in
the
world
Dwells
no
one
more
entitled
to
the
bliss
That
waits
on
virtue
,
than
was
Amnon
once
:
He
therefore
more
severely
feels
the
loss
For
having
tasted
in
its
first
degree
Its
sov'reign
blessedness
.
—
Who'd
then
forsake
The
peaceful
path
of
virtue
to
pursue
Alluring
vice
through
folly's
labyrinth
,
Grasping
at
shadows
of
felicity
,
'Till
overtaken
by
her
evil
train
Of
shame
,
remorse
,
confusion
,
and
despair
?
Such
evils
now
the
hapless
Amnon
haunt
,
While
in
th'
avenging
hand
of
Absalom
Death
lurking
lies
.
—
Th'
ambitious
Prince
,
resolv'd
At
once
t'
avenge
his
sister
,
and
remove
An
obstacle
betwixt
him
and
the
crown
,
With
unremitting
vigilance
attends
The
silent
shades
and
unfrequented
paths
Where
Amnon
used
to
walk
,
and
meditate
,
Hoping
to
meet
defenceless
and
alone
The
destin'd
youth
,
and
steal
away
his
life
.
But
Amnon
now
as
cautiously
avoids
His
dreaded
presence
;
not
with
dread
of
death
;
Such
fear
ne'er
fill'd
his
unsuspicious
breast
;
But
conscious
guilt
,
that
daunter
of
the
soul
,
That
few
can
brave
,
deter'd
the
timid
youth
.
Two
years
within
the
breast
of
Absalom
Revenge
in
ambush
lurk'd
,
while
in
his
face
The
mildest
gentleness
and
sweetness
play'd
:
Thus
secrèt
burns
the
subterraneous
fire
,
While
on
earth's
teeming
surface
gaily
smiles
The
verdant
herbage
strew'd
with
various
flowers
,
Till
,
bursting
from
beneath
,
the
sulph'rous
fumes
O'erturn
the
mountains
,
and
the
crumbling
mould
Buries
the
blooming
beauties
that
it
bore
:
So
he
unable
longer
to
contain
The
hidden
rancour
burning
in
his
breast
Determin'd
by
some
bold
and
desp'rate
stroke
T'
effect
his
purpose
;
and
with
Jonadab
Consulted
,
who
thus
readily
advis'd
:
—
Assume
the
friend
,
—
entice
him
to
thine
house
;
The
cred'lous
youth
will
ne'er
suspect
a
fraud
.
Now
is
the
time
,
now
comes
the
yearly
feast
When
shepherds
fleece
their
flocks
:
make
him
thy
guest
With
all
thy
brothers
:
when
with
mirth
and
wine
His
heart's
elate
,
how
easy
will
it
be
To
give
the
final
blow
.
With
lowring
brow
Revengeful
Absalom
the
rash
advice
Adopted
,
and
a
sullen
gloom
o'ercast
His
lively
features
.
Stern
as
that
grim
Lord
That
through
the
forest
takes
his
fearless
way
,
With
high
deportment
Absalom
retir'd
.
CANTO
V.
Returning
summer
now
came
smiling
on
,
Exciting
ev'ry
peaceful
breast
to
mirth
;
But
Amnon
meets
with
tears
the
fatal
season
:
This
sad
remembrancer
of
his
past
crime
Awoke
his
grief
,
and
from
his
couch
he
rose
Ere
yet
th'
approaching
day
began
to
dawn
,
While
the
full
moon
reign'd
mistress
of
the
night
.
Sleep
on
,
ye
sons
of
innocence
and
ease
,
(
The
restless
Amnon
with
a
sigh
exclaim'd
,
As
from
his
window
high
he
cast
a
look
Over
the
silent
streets
,
for
not
a
voice
Disturb'd
the
solemn
hour
)
sleep
on
—
sleep
on
:
So
was
I
wont
to
sleep
away
the
night
,
Rise
with
the
morn
,
and
in
the
day
rejoice
:
But
now
in
morn
or
night
,
or
sleep
or
'
wake
,
I
feel
no
joy
.
Oh
that
I
could
forget
I
once
was
happy
!
Oh
that
this
one
step
,
One
erring
step
,
should
kill
my
peace
for
ever
.
O
moon
,
I
blush
beneath
thy
silver
beams
;
I've
ost
beheld
thee
with
exulting
heart
,
But
now
I
shrink
at
ev'ry
thing
that's
pure
:
A
modest
virgin
,
innocent
and
fair
,
Strikes
terror
to
my
soul
:
to
me
she
seems
Exalted
high
above
my
fallen
state
:
If
such
an
one
I
venture
to
approach
,
I
instantly
recoil
,
and
justly
pay
A
secret
adoration
to
the
breast
Of
innocence
;
for
Oh
!
what
parity
Can
there
subsist
'twixt
innocence
and
guilt
?
The
world's
reproaches
and
censorious
sneers
Harrow
the
heart
and
aggravate
the
sense
:
But
yet
that
aggravation
poiz'd
against
The
pangs
of
guilt
,
is
of
but
little
weight
:
The
world
offended
may
again
be
won
,
Or
all
its
vain
reproaches
set
at
nought
,
When
the
heart
,
firmly
steel'd
with
innocence
,
Shrinks
not
,
but
rises
with
true
nobleness
,
Superior
to
the
grov'ling
sons
of
vice
,
And
smiles
at
pow'rless
envy
.
—
But
alas
!
To
me
returns
,
whether
of
day
or
night
,
Aid
sharp
reflection
and
new
point
its
spears
.
Now
waking
birds
in
chearful
concert
join
.
Their
ev'ry
note
proclaims
them
innocent
.
The
fun
arises
and
the
world
awakes
;
The
Prince
retires
with
melancholy
steps
Into
his
garden
,
where
recluse
and
still
Beneath
the
arching
boughs
of
shady
trees
,
With
head
declin'd
and
arms
lock'd
round
his
breast
,
He
sigh'd
the
heavy
slow-pac'd
hours
away
;
'Till
interrupted
by
a
messenger
,
Who
,
with
due
deference
approaching
near
,
Thus
spake
:
O
Prince
,
I
come
from
Absalom
,
His
sheep
he
shears
to-morrow
,
and
intreats
Thee
,
with
thy
Royal
brothers
,
to
partake
The
feast
,
and
spend
with
him
the
day
in
mirth
.
Surprize
and
pleasure
rush'd
into
his
heart
At
such
an
unexpected
invitation
,
Which
he
accepted
,
nor
did
hesitate
One
moment
to
resolve
;
for
Amnon
still
Was
unsuspicious
as
an
infant
child
,
That
fearless
trusts
itself
to
ev'ry
arm
That
opens
to
recieve
it
.
With
quick
step
He
paces
to
and
fro
;
his
bosom
glows
,
And
thus
anticipates
th'
expected
bliss
.
O
joyful
day
when
I
again
shall
meet
My
dear
offended
brother
,
whom
so
long
I've
cautiously
avoided
:
his
good
will
Greatly
exceeds
my
most
advent'rous
hope
:
Forgetful
of
my
faults
,
he
kindly
now
Invites
me
to
his
house
,
without
reproach
Or
intimation
of
my
late
misdeeds
.
Yes
,
my
good
brother
,
I
will
be
thy
guest
—
My
grateful
heart
o'erflows
;
I
now
could
fall
Down
at
thy
feet
,
and
from
thy
hand
receive
The
death
I
do
deserve
.
Thus
Amnon
still
,
In
humble
strain
and
true
repentant
heart
,
Pour'd
forth
his
soul
in
such
foliloquies
All
day
and
night
,
till
in
the
morning
fair
,
The
foremost
of
the
princely
cavalcade
,
He
gladly
hasted
to
the
fatal
feast
.
Now
Absalom
with
secret
pleasure
sees
The
long
wisth'd
day
arrive
,
and
in
the
morn
Assiduously
in
comely
dress
array'd
His
lovely
person
,
lovely
in
extreme
:
Not
in
all
Israel's
num'rous
tribes
was
found
His
peer
in
beauty
;
for
from
head
to
foot
No
blemish
,
no
deformity
was
seen
,
But
well
proportion'd
limbs
,
and
features
fair
,
With
ev'ry
natural
,
ev'ry
borrow'd
grace
That
gives
to
beauty
power
.
The
conscious
Prince
Omitted
no
external
ornament
That
might
,
if
possible
,
such
gifts
improve
:
But
looking
at
his
spotless
hands
,
he
said
,
—
Must
these
be
dy'd
in
blood
?
a
brother's
blood
?
No
,
I
have
servants
,
they
shall
give
the
blow
.
Then
to
and
fro
he
through
his
chamber
stalk'd
,
Revolving
in
his
mind
the
consequence
Of
op'ning
his
design
.
He
paus'd
,
he
thought
His
servants
might
refuse
—
or
worse
,
betray
.
At
length
he
says
,
—
I'm
wrong
to
censure
them
;
Great
proofs
I've
had
of
their
sidelity
;
I'll
trust
them
now
.
Then
call'd
he
those
he
lov'd
:
They
came
.
He
says
,
You
have
done
all
things
well
According
to
my
order
for
this
feast
,
But
on
your
cares
I
can
so
well
depend
,
That
whatsoever
is
given
to
your
charge
I
think
no
more
of
,
for
I've
always
found
You
true
and
faithful
;
therefore
I
make
choice
Of
you
for
my
accomplices
this
day
:
'Tis
not
intended
for
a
day
of
mirth
,
As
it
appears
,
and
must
as
yet
appear
Till
I've
fulfill'd
the
purpose
of
my
soul
.
Our
guests
must
sumptuously
be
entertain'd
:
But
when
they
have
partook
the
rich
repast
,
And
wine
exhilerates
and
mirth
prevails
,
Be
you
prepar'd
,
and
when
I
give
the
word
,
Pierce
Amnon
to
the
heart
,
for
he
must
die
.
His
servants
tremble
at
the
dire
command
.
Why
tremble
ye
?
said
Absalom
,
fear
not
,
'Tis
I
command
you
—
all
the
deed
is
mine
;
Ye
are
but
instruments
within
my
grasp
,
And
of
his
blood
are
spotless
:
if
there's
guilt
In
taking
vengeance
for
the
atrocious
crime
,
Let
all
that
guilt
be
mine
:
since
justice
sleeps
In
his
fond
father's
hand
,
'tis
right
that
I
Assume
the
pow'r
,
and
on
his
impious
head
Hurl
vengeance
.
But
observe
,
it
next
behoves
Us
to
evade
the
storm
that
will
ensue
:
In
Geshur
we
shall
find
a
safe
retreat
:
My
fleetest
horses
for
the
flight
prepare
:
Soon
as
the
wound
is
given
,
we'll
mount
and
flee
;
Swift
as
the
sweeping
winds
we'll
o'er
the
hills
,
And
leave
the
King
to
bury
him
,
and
mourn
.
His
servants
,
more
by
love
than
duty
bound
,
All
bow'd
obedient
to
his
sov'reign
will
.
Now
came
the
Royal
guests
,
and
Amnon
first
Dismounting
from
his
mule
,
with
conscious
blush
And
fault'ring
voice
thus
ventur'd
to
address
Th'
offended
brother
:
—
O
my
Absalom
,
Forgive
,
he
said
—
and
interrupting
tears
Pleading
more
pow'rfully
than
eloquence
,
Stagger'd
the
purpose
of
Maacah's
son
,
And
in
his
feeling
soul
a
conflict
rais'd
Betwixt
his
brother's
life
and
sister's
fame
:
He
silent
paus'd
;
but
in
his
breast
revenge
Was
too
deep
rooted
by
a
two
year's
growth
For
one
soft
moment
to
eradicate
:
He
therefore
wip'd
away
a
piteous
tear
,
And
made
to
Amnon
this
compos'd
reply
:
I
did
not
send
for
thee
to
weep
and
mourn
;
To-day
I
have
a
feast
;
this
prosp'rous
year
Increasing
flocks
increase
the
shepherds
joy
:
Rejoice
with
me
,
my
brother
,
and
be
glad
.
Then
did
he
warmly
press
his
hand
,
and
point
The
chiefest
place
.
The
Prince
shed
tears
of
joy
,
Then
fat
him
down
,
forgot
his
grief
and
smil'd
.
Wine
in
profusion
sparkled
in
the
bowls
,
Inspiring
social
mirth
;
they
freely
quaff'd
;
But
Absalom
th'
emolient
draught
evades
,
Lest
it
relax
his
stern
determination
;
But
quick
replenishes
the
sinking
bowls
,
Pressing
on
all
the
intoxicating
cup
,
'Till
mirth
predominates
,
and
ev'ry
heart
Expands
with
social
freedom
;
Absalom
Then
gives
the
fatal
word
;
his
servants
plunge
The
destin'd
dart
,
and
from
the
Prince's
side
Gush'd
forth
life's
reeking
stream
—
he
fell
—
uprose
In
consternation
those
whom
vengeance
spar'd
,
Each
trembling
for
his
life
;
confus'd
they
fled
:
Mingling
with
gore
,
the
wine
in
currents
flow'd
;
While
,
rolling
in
the
flood
,
the
murder'd
Prince
Alone
,
in
all
the
agonies
of
woe
,
Groan'd
out
his
soul
,
and
clos'd
his
eyes
in
death
.
FINIS
.