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Thy name, our charging hosts along,
Shall be the battle-word!
Thy fall, the theme of choral song
From virgin voices pour'd!
To weep would do thy glory wrong;
SONG OF SAUL BEFORE HIS LAST BATTLE.
ARRIORS and chiefs! should the shaft or the sword
Heed not the corse, though a king's, in your path:
Thou who art bearing my buckler and bow,
Mine be the doom which they dared not to meet.
Farewell to others, but never we part,
HOU whose spell can raise the dead,
King, behold the phantom seer!"
Earth yawn'd; he stood the centre of a cloud:
His hand was wither'd, and his veins were dry;
Who is he that calls the dead?