Anti-slavery bugle. [volume] (New-Lisbon, Ohio) 1845-1861, 1861-05-04
THE DEATH OF SOLOMON.

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performance Of devotional rites. The people look
ed upon him as the embodiment Of earthly wis
dom, and with their worship in the temple was
mingled q deep reverence for the king-a union
Of heavenly aspiration with earthly admiration.
King Solomon stood in his crown OF gold
Between the pillars, before the altar
10 the House Of the Lord. And the King was old
And his strength began to falter,
SO that he leaned on bis ebony staff,
Seel'd with the seal Of the Pentegragh.
All of the golden fretted work,
Without and within so rich and 30 rare,
As high as the nest of the building stork,
Those pillars Of cedar were
Wrought up to the brazen chapters
Of tho Sidonian a~riifcers.
And the King stood still as q carven King,
The carven cedarn beams below,
In his purple robe, with his signet ring,
And his beard as white as snow,
And his face to the Oracle, where the hymn
Dies under the wing of the Cherubim.
The wings fold over the Oracle,
And cover the heart and tho eyes Of God
The Spouse With pomegranate, lily, and bell,
Is glorious 10 her abode:
For with gold of Ophif and with scent Of myrrh,l
And with purple of Tyre, the King cloth'd her.
BY the soul OF each slumbrous instrument
Drawn soft through the musical misty air,
The stream of the people that came and went,
For worship aud praise, and prayer,
FlOw'd TO and fro, and up and down
And round the King in his golden crown.
But death came unawares and the legend goes
on to describe the nanues in which the wise
king met his fate, and the poet writes,
And it came to pass, rs the King stood there,
And loOk'd on the house be had built, with
pride,
That the Hand of tho Lord came unaware,
And touch'd him go that he died,
In his purple robe, with his signet ring,
And the crown wherewith they had crowned him
King.
But though oil Which constituted the wisdom
and greatness Of Solomau had left him, his sub
jects were unable to realize The destruction that
death had made,
And the etream of the people that came and went
To worship the Lord with prayer and praise,
Went softly ever, in wonderment,
For The King stood there always
And it was solemn and strange to behold
That dead King crowned with a crown of gold.
For he lean'd on his ebony staff upright;
And over his shoulder the purple robe:
And bic hair. and his beard. were both snow
white
And the fear of bin filed the globe,
So that none dared touch him, though he was
dead,
lie look'd so royal about the head.
SO also in death, rObed in the robes Of lite,
wearing the royal purple, and crowned with the
crown Of kingly power, year after year hath been
standing the dead Union even in the House of the
Lord. And though many have felt that it was
dead, that it retained only the form Of life, that
it's purple robe covered q corpse, yet they feared
it, and dared not touch aught that in death looked
so royalty. And it has been Of the Union as the
poet says of Solomon in the legend, although an
other King succr eded yet the form of the old King
remained as 10 life between the pillars and before
the affairs of the House of the Lord, and no one
dared take from him his crown.
ana Inc moons were changed ana the years
roll'd on,
And the new king reign'd in The old kings
stead
And men were married and buried anon
But the King stood stark and dead
Leaning upright on his ebony staff;
Preserved by the sign of the Pentegrapb.
And the stream of life, as il went and came,
Ever for worship and praise and prayer,
Was awed by the face. and the fear, and the fame
OF the dead King standing there
For his hair was so white, and his eyes 70 cold,
That they left him alone with his crown of gold.
But the Union has now fallen. The compare
lively insignificant question Of the mere theory Of
slavery extension-a very mouse in morals-has
destroyed the ebony staff that supported it in Its
life like position, and the golden crown ia now
lying on the floor Of the temple amid heap of.
dust.
So King Solomon stood up, dead in the House
OF the Lord, held there by the Pentegraph,
Until out from q pillar there ran a red mouse,
And gnaw'd through his ebony staff
Then fiat on his face, the King fell down
And they pick'd from the dust q golden crown.