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JONATHAN'S

LAMENT

How nobly stands he with my father there. So slenderly, so stalwartly, his hair A blazing fire about his face. His grace, His saintly brow. How can I bear To lose him? How can I let him go? O David... this is the day when thou Canst prove the covenant we shared! How clear His eyes are as he goes to Saul, to hear The benedictions from his lips!

He truly sips

God's nectar. All that I am or could be Is for David . . . all! The King

Has raised his arms for silence...

Thus his words:

“David,” Saul begins, “From herds Of oxen in thy father's fields, thou came, And victors made of men whose shields Grew rusted for the want of fight.

Thy Right

And goodness has transfigured them. Now might They stand on Israel's plain. The slain

And captured Philistines are glorious proof!"

Why speaks he so, when well I know

The angry, jealous tumult in his breast?

No rest is David's lot while Saul yet breathes. Those wreaths of laurel are a false reward.

The sword

Of Saul is ever over David's head. O, better dead

I'd be than love one unattainable as he.

If glory does not claim him, then will Death.

His breath

Will fall no more upon my face as that one night. Why might I not have died before the light Of morning came! His name is coupled ever With my fate . . . It is too late

My heart is gone and cannot be retrieved. My soul has claimed its one and only mate, Its only love... O David, David, David!

JODY SHOTWELL

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