Where is David, the Next King of Israel?

    Where is David? . . .    O God's people,
    Saul has passed, the good and great.
    Mourn for Saul the first-anointed -
    Head and shoulders o'er the state.

    He was found among the Prophets:
    Judge and monarch, merged in one.
    But the wars of Saul are ended
    And the works of Saul are done.

    Where is David, ruddy shepherd,
    God's boy-king for Israel?
    Mystic, ardent, dowered with beauty,
    Singing where still waters dwell?

    Prophet, find that destined minstrel
    Wandering on the range to-day,
    Driving sheep and crooning softly
    Psalms that cannot pass away.

    "David waits," the prophet answers,
    "In a black notorious den,
    In a cave upon the border
    With four hundred outlaw men.

    "He is fair, and loved of women,
    Mighty-hearted, born to sing:
    Thieving, weeping, erring, praying,
    Radiant royal rebel-king.

    "He will come with harp and psaltry,
    Quell his troop of convict swine,
    Quell his mad-dog roaring rascals,
    Witching them with words divine -

            "They will ram the walls of Zion!
            They will win us Salem hill,
            All for David, Shepherd David -
            Singing like a mountain rill!"

Vachel Lindsay

Vachel Lindsay was an American poet known for his innovative performances of his poetry, which combined spoken word with music and theatrics. Born in Springfield, Illinois, Lindsay's work often revolved around American history and culture, reflecting his progressive social views. He played a significant role in the early 20th-century American poetry scene, influencing contemporaries and later poets with his dynamic style and passionate delivery.

Vachel Lindsay

To Reformers in Despair

Vachel Lindsay, Simple Poetry

How a Little Girl Sang

Vachel Lindsay, Simple Poetry

The King of Yellow Butterflies (A Poem Game.)

Vachel Lindsay, Simple Poetry

Lincoln

Vachel Lindsay, Simple Poetry

English

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At the Fords of Jordan

The parting of King David and Barzillai the Gileadite after the revolt of Absolam.

A little way farther to guide thee I go
Where the footing is firm and the waters are low;
Then we part, O my King, thou once more to thy throne,
I to dwell, in the house of my fathers, alone.

Yet think not, O David, one pang of regret
Would tempt the recall of the youth I have set
In thy presence; the strong-armed, the true-hearted one,
Last gift of my loyalty, even my son.

Ere my hand to the husbandmans toil had been trained,
Or my foot to the slow-moving flocks had been chained,
I, too, would have marched in the long line of spears,
With the youthful, the courtly, the brave for my peers.

The days when I dreamt but of battle! The lamp
Which all night I kep...

Mary Hannay Foott

David's Lamentation Over Saul And Jonathan.

The beauty of Israel is slain on thy mountains,
The mighty are low, and how great is their fall,
But tell not our grief in Gath, by the fountains,
And publish it not within Askelon's wall,
Lest the Philistines' daughters shall mock at our sorrow,
And triumph in gladness o'er us in our pain,
And sound all their timbrels and harps on the morrow,
While here we are sore, in lamenting our slain.

Oh! Gilboa's mountains, from now and forever,
Let moisture, which falleth as rain, or as dew,
Come down on thy parch'd, burning summits, oh, never,
For the shield of the mighty is cast upon you.
From the blood of the slain, from the fat of the highest,
The bow of fair Jonathan never did quail,
And the sword of his father, in danger the highest,
Went forth to brave deeds, l...

Thomas Frederick Young

Davids Lament for Jonathan

Thou wast hard pressed, yet God concealed this thing
From me; and thou wast wounded very sore,
And beaten down, O son of Israels king,
Like wheat on threshing-flour.

Thou, that from courtly and from wise for friend
Didst choose me, and in spite of ban and sneer,
Rebuke and ridicule, until the end
Didst ever hold me dear!

All night thy body on the mountain lay:
At morn the heathen nailed thee to their wall.
Surely their deaf gods hear the songs to-day
Oer the slain House of Saul!

Oh! if that witch were here thy father sought,
Methinks I een could call thee from thy place,
To shift thy mangled image from my thought,
Seeing thy souls calm face.

I sorrowed for the words the prophet spoke,
That set me rival to thy fathers line;

Mary Hannay Foott

King David

King David was a sorrowful man:
No cause for his sorrow had he;
And he called for the music of a hundred harps,
To ease his melancholy.

They played till they all fell silent:
Played-and play sweet did they;
But the sorrow that haunted the heart of King David
They could not charm away.

He rose; and in his garden
Walked by the moon alone,
A nightingale hidden in a cypress-tree
Jargoned on and on.

King David lifted his sad eyes
Into the dark-boughed tree-
''Tell me, thou little bird that singest,
Who taught my grief to thee?'

But the bird in no wise heeded
And the king in the cool of the moon
Hearkened to the nightingale's sorrowfulness,
Till all his own was gone.

Walter De La Mare

How Samson Bore Away the Gates of Gaza

(A Negro Sermon.)



Once, in a night as black as ink,
She drove him out when he would not drink.
Round the house there were men in wait
Asleep in rows by the Gaza gate.
But the Holy Spirit was in this man.
Like a gentle wind he crept and ran.
("It is midnight," said the big town clock.)

He lifted the gates up, post and lock.
The hole in the wall was high and wide
When he bore away old Gaza's pride
Into the deep of the night: -
The bold Jack Johnson Israelite, -
Samson -
The Judge,
The Nazarite.

The air was black, like the smoke of a dragon.
Samson's heart was as big as a wagon.
He sang like a shining golden fountain.
He sweated up to the top of the mountain.
He threw down the gates with a noise like judgment.

Vachel Lindsay

Goliath And David

(FOR D.C.T., KILLED AT FRICOURT, MARCH, 1916)


Yet once an earlier David took
Smooth pebbles from the brook:
Out between the lines he went
To that one-sided tournament,
A shepherd boy who stood out fine
And young to fight a Philistine
Clad all in brazen mail. He swears
That he's killed lions, he's killed bears,
And those that scorn the God of Zion
Shall perish so like bear or lion.
But ... the historian of that fight
Had not the heart to tell it right.

Striding within javelin range,
Goliath marvels at this strange
Goodly-faced boy so proud of strength.
David's clear eye measures the length;
With hand thrust back, he cramps one knee,
Poises a moment thoughtfully,
And hurls with a long vengeful swing.
The pebble, humming from...

Robert von Ranke Graves