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Farewell to others, but never we part,
Thou whose spell can raise the dead,
Bid the prophet's form appear.
"Samuel, raise thy buried head!
"King, behold the phantom seer!"
Earth yawn'd; he stood the centre of a cloud:
Light changed its hue, retiring from his shroud.
Death stood all glassy in his fixed eye;
His hand was withered, and his veins were dry;
His foot, in bony whiteness, glittered there,
Shrunken and sinewless, and ghastly bare:
From lips that moved not and unbreathing frame,
Like cavern'd winds, the hollow accents came.
Saul saw, and fell to earth, as falls the oak,
At once, and blasted by the thunder-stroke.
"Why is my sleep disquieted?
"Who is he that calls the dead?
"Is it thou, Oh King? Behold
"Bloodless are these limbs, and cold:
"Such are mine: and such shall be
"Thine, to-morrow, when with me:
"Ere the coming day is done,
"Such shall thou be, such thy son.
"Fare thee well, but for a day;
"Then we mix our mouldering clay.
"Thou, thy race, lie pile and low,
"Pierced by shafts of many a bow;
"And the falchion by thy side,
"To thy heart, thy hand shall guide:
"Crownless, breathless, headless fall,
"Son and sire, the house of Saul!"
"ALL IS VANITY, SAITH THE
Fame, wisdom, love, and power were mine,
My goblets blush'd from every vine,
I sunn'd my heart in beauty's eyes,
All earth can give, or mortal prize,
I strive to number o'er what days
Which all that life or earth displays
There rose no day, there roll'd no hour
Of pleasure unembittered; And not a trapping deck'd my power
That gall'd not while it glittered.
The serpent of the field, by art
But that which coils around the heart,
It will not list to wisdom's lore,
But there it stings for evermore