III.  OLD AND NEW TESTAMENT STUDIES

DAVID’S LAMENT OVER SAUL AND JONATHAN

  Israel’s beauty is slain
    Here on Gilboa’s high places,
  How are the mighty fallen
    And tears upon all our faces.

  Tell it not now in Gath
    Or in Askelon’s city name it,
  Lest Philistia’s daughters rejoice
    And with songs of triumph proclaim it.

  Let there be no more dew,
    Gilboa, upon thy mountains! 
  Over thy fields of offerings fair,
    Holden be all heaven’s fountains.

  For there the shield of the mighty,
    Even Saul’s shield, to-day,
  As though he was ne’er the Anointed of God,
    Is vilely cast away.

  Till the foe in his blood lay stricken
    Or cloven through and through,
  The bow of Jonathan turned not back,
    The sword of Saul still slew.

  Lovely were they in their lives,
    In death undivided they lay,
  They were swifter than mountain eagles,
    Stronger than lions at bay.

  Weep, ye daughters of Israel,
    Weep over Saul your King,
  Who clothed you with scarlet and decked you with gold
    And filled you with every good thing.

  How are the mighty fallen,
    And all their boasts in vain! 
  There on Gilboa’s high places,
    O Jonathan, thou wast slain.

  Alas! my brother Jonathan,
    I am sore distressed for thee;
  For thou hast been very pleasant,
    Very pleasant to me.

  Beyond the love of woman
    Was the love that for me you bore. 
  How are the mighty fallen
    And perished the weapons of war!

THE FIERY FURNACE

  Bound into the furnace blazing
    They have cast the Children Three;
  But oh! miracle amazing,
    They arise, unscathed and free;
  While through paths of fire, to guide them,
    Paths no other foot has trod—­
  Lo!  A Fourth is seen beside them,
    Shining like the Son of God.

  Ah! not ours their saintly measure,
    Yet ’tis still our heart’s desire,
  That Thou wouldst of Thy good pleasure,
    Teach us, too, to walk the fire—­
  Living lives of stern denial,
    Trusty toiler, helpmeet tried,
  Till grown fit for fiery trial,
    With our Saviour at our side.

RUTH AND NAOMI

  When Judges ruled the tribes of Israel,
  A cruel famine on the people fell,
  Till even Bethlehem, the “House of Bread,”
  For meat and drink at last was sore bestead.

  Then when they called upon Jehovah’s name,
  This answer to their heart’s petition came: 
  “Send forth your strong into the land where Lot
  The might of Moab and his race begot—­

  “Your kinsfolk they:  there still the streams run quick,
  Still grass and corn are laughing high and thick.” 
  Therefore adventuring forth, the bold and strong
  Their famished flocks and herds drove each along,