Poems on Miscellaneous Subjects (Harper, 1857)/Rizpah, the daughter of Ai
RIZPAH, THE DAUGHTER OF AI.
Tidings! sad tidings for the daughter of Ai,They are bearing her prince and loved away,Destruction falls like a mournful pallOn the fallen house of ill-fated Saul.
And Rizpah hears that her loved must die,But she hears it all with a tearless eye;And clasping her hand with grief and dreadShe meekly bows her queenly head.
The blood has left her blanching cheek,Her quivering lips refuse to speak,Oh! grief like hers has learned no tone—A world of grief is all its own.
But the deed is done, and the hand is stay'dThat havoc among the brethren made,And Rizpah takes her lowly seatTo watch the princely dead at her feet.
The jackall crept out with a stealthy tread,To batten and feast on the noble dead;The vulture bore down with a heavy wingTo dip his beak in life's stagnant spring.
The hyena heard the jackall's howl,And he bounded forth with a sullen growl,When Rizpah's shriek rose on the airLike a tone from the caverns of despair.
She sprang from her sad and lowly seat,For a moment her heart forgot to beat,And the blood rushed up to her marble cheekAnd a flash to her eye so sad and meek.
The vulture paused in his downward flight,As she raised her form to its queenly height,The hyena's eye had a horrid glareAs he turned again to his desert lair.
The jackall slunk back with a quickened tread,From his cowardly search of Rizpah's dead;Unsated he turned from the noble prey,Subdued by a glance of the daughter of Ai.
Oh grief! that a mother's heart should know,Such a weary weight of consuming wo,For seldom if ever earth has knownSuch love as the daughter of Aihath known.