THE EISTEDDFOD COMMITTEE

AND THE

"DEATH OF SAUL."

Being restricted by the Wrexham Eisteddfod Committee to 200 lines, I was obliged to lop away from the bulk of the following poem just sufficient for their requirements. I have always declaimed, from a physical point of view, against the pernicious influence of light-lacing, and this being so, it was not likely I could go at once and mentally encase my delicate muse, for a permanency, in a straight waistcoat, at the behest of any committee in the world. What would she have thought of me? If, therefore, the committee, or any member of it, should by chance observe that the "Death of Saul," as I now produce it, is of a more comprehensive character than the "Death of Saul" for which they were good enough to award me the first prize, they will see the poem without the temporary stays in which I was necessitated to encase it in order to make it acceptable to them and their restrictive tastes. To squeeze a poem of nearly 400 lines into the dimensions of one of 200, is, in my opinion, an achievement worthy of a prize in itself; and

as half of the original had a gold medal awarded to it, the whole of it, I should think, ought to be worth two. I trust Eisteddfod committees, when they contemplate putting the curb upon us poor poets, will think of the Wrexham National Eisteddfod, and how half the "Death of Saul" took a first prize.

TO THE PUBLIC.

Let the bright sun of Approbation shine In warmth upon the humble rhymester's line, And, like the lark that flutters tow'rds the light, He spreads his pinions for a loftier flight. The chilling frowns of critics may retard, But cannot kill, the ardour of the Bard, For, gaining wisdom by experience taught, As grass grows strong from wounds by mowers wrought, Success will come the Poet's fears to assuage, Crowning his hopes with Poesy's perfect page.

PREFACE.

The verses which make up this volume have been written at intervals, and under the most varied and chequered circumstances, extending over a period of five-and-twenty years. If, therefore, they bear upon their surface variety of sentiment and incongruity of feeling, that fact will explain it. I am fully aware that some of the pieces are unequal in merit from a purely artistic point of view, but I have felt that my audience will be varied in its composition, and hence the introduction of variety. The tone, however, of the whole work, I believe to be healthy; and where honest maxims, combined with homely metaphor, are found to take the place of high constructive art, they will, I know, be excused by votaries of the latter, for the sake of those whose hearts and instincts are much more sensitive to homely appeals than to the charms of mere artistic effect. The pieces have all been written, together with many other effusions, at such leisure moments as have been accorded to one who, during the whole time of their composition,

has had to apply himself, almost without cessation, to the performance of newspaper press duties; and those who know anything about such things need not be told that a taste for versification is, to a press-man, as a rule, what poverty is to most people—a very inconvenient and by no means a profitable companion. In my own case, however, the inconvenience has been a pleasure, and I have no reason to find fault as to profit. From the fitful excitement of journalistic duties I have turned to "making poetry," as Spenser defines the art, as a jaded spirit looks for rest, and have always felt refreshed after it. My only hope in connection with the poetry I have thus made is, that those who may incline to read what I have written will take as much pleasure in reading as I have taken in writing it, and that the result to myself will be a justification for having published the work, to be found only in that public appreciation which I hope to obtain,

SWANSEA.——J. C. MANNING.

CONTENTS.

To the Public Preface Dedication The Wrexham Eisteddfod and the "Death of Saul" Historical Note DEATH OF SAUL Episode the First Episode the Second Episode the Third Episode the Fourth Palm Sunday in Wales Elegy on the late Crawshay Bailey, Esq. Nash Vaughan Edwardes Vaughan; a Monody Monody on the Death of Mrs. Nicholl Carne Elegiac Stanzas on the Death of Mrs. Grenfell In Dreams Mewn Cof Anwyl: on the Death of John Johnes, Esq., of Dolaucothy Elegiac In Memoriam To Clara E.H.R. A.R. Venus and Astery To a Royal Mourner Beautiful Wales Gwalia Deg The Welsh Language: to Caradawc, of Abergavenny Englyn i'r Iath Gymraeg A Foolish Bird I'd Choose to be a Nightingale: to Mary (Llandovery) True Philanthropy: to J. D. Llewellyn, Esq., Penllergare Disraeli Down in the Dark: the Ferndale Explosion DAISY MAY:—Part the First Part the Second Part the Third Lines, accompanying a Purse Forsaken Christmas is Coming Heart Links The Oak to the Ivy Epigram on a Welshwoman's Hat Shadows in the Fire The Belfry Old Beautiful Barbara Song of the Silken Shroud A University for Wales Griefs Untold I Will

Dawn and Death Castles in the Air The Withered Rose Wrecks of Life Eleanor New Year's Bells The Vase and the Weed A Riddle To a Fly Burned by a Gaslight To a Friend Retribution The Three Graces The Last Rose of Summer The Starling and the Goose The Heroes of Alma A Kind Word, a Smile, or a Kiss Dear Mother, I'm Thinking of Thee The Heron and the Weather-Vane The Three Mirrors The Two Clocks Sacrifical: on the Execution of Two Greek Sailors at Swansea Wales to "Punch" Welcome! Change False as Fair Heads and Hearts Fall of Sebastopol To Lord Derby Unrequited The Household Spirit Had I a Heart A Bridal Simile Song I would my Love Death in Life Song of the Strike Nature's Heroes: the Rhondda Valley Disaster Elegy on the Death of a Little Child Magdalene Love Walks with Humanity Yet The Two Trees Stanzas Verses, written after Reading a Biography of His Grace the Duke of Beaufort A Simile The Two Sparrows Floating Away A Floral Fable Ring Down the Curtain The Telegraph Post Breaking on the Shore Hurrah! for the Rifle Corps Be Careful when you Find a Friend Brotherly Love England and France

Against the Stream Wrecked in Sight of Home Sonnet Sebastopol is Won Hold Your Tongue My Mother's Portrait Never More Lines on the Death of the Rev. Canon Jenkins, Vicar of Aberdare Filial Ingratitude The Vine and the Sunflower POETIC PROVERBS: I.—Danger in Surety II.—A Wise Son III.—Hope Deferred IV.—Virtue's Crown V.—Sorrow in Mirth Christmas Anticipations Golden Tresses Hope for the Best Gone Before Henry Bath: Died October 14th, 1864 Song of the Worker The Brooklet's Ambition St. Valentine's Eve Lost Lilybell Gone Life Dreams Aeolus and Aurora; or, the Music of the Gods Sonnet Sleeping in the Snow With the Rain Ode, on the Death of a Friend Lines: to a Young Lady who had jilted her Lover Vicarious Martyrs: to a Hen-pecked Schoolmaster Stanzas: on seeing Lady Noel Byron To Louisa The Orator and the Cask The Maid of the War Impromptu: on being asked by a Lady to write a Verse in her Album Mary: a Monody On the Marriage of Miss Nicholl Carne Impromptu: on the Death of Mr. Thomas Kneath, a well-known Teacher of Navigation, at Swansea EXTRACTS FROM UNPUBLISHED MANUSCRIPT:

Humility Oppressed Upward Strivings Truthfulness Love's Influence Value of Adversity Misguiding Appearances Virgin Purity Man's Destiny Love's Incongruities Retribution Love's Mutability A Mother's Advice Sunrise in the Country Faith in Love Unrequited Affection The Poet's Troubles Echoes from the City Love's Wiles Hazard in Love A Mother's Love "The Shadow of the Cross" Curates and Colliers: on reading in a Comic Paper absurd comparisons between the wages of Curates and Colliers Wanted—a Wife: a Voice from the Ladies Sympathy A Fragment Law versus Theology: on an Eminent County Court Judge The Broken Model Impromptu: on an Inveterate Spouter A Character Couplet Pause: on the hesitation of the Czar to Force a Passage of the Danube, June, 1877 The Test of the Stick Note: concerning Iuan Wyllt, an Eisteddfod at Neath, and a First Prize Poem

TO THE

MOST HONOURABLE THE MARQUESS OF BUTE:

WITH A GRATEFUL SENSE OF HIS LORDSHIP'S GENEROUS AND

OTHERWISE DISINTERESTED DESIRE,

IN ACCEPTING THE DEDICATION OF THE WORK,

TO ALONE FURTHER THE VIEWS AND ENCOURAGE THE LITERARY

ASPIRATIONS OF THE WRITER,

THIS VOLUME,

BY HIS LORDSHIP'S PERMISSION,

IS DEDICATED,

WITH EVERY SENTIMENT OF RESPECTFUL ADMIRATION OF HIS

TALENT AND WORTH,

BY HIS LORDSHIP'S OBLIGED AND OBEDIENT SERVANT,

THE AUTHOR.

DEATH OF SAUL.

PRIZE POEM.

WREXHAM NATIONAL EISTEDDFOD, 1876.

"The Vicar of Wrexham delivered his award on the 28 poems in English or Welsh, on 'The Death of Saul' ('Marwolaeth Saul'). The prize 5 pounds 5s. was given by Dr. Williams, Chairman of the Committee, and a gold medal was given by the Committee. The Vicar said the best composition was an English poem, signed 'David.' It was written in a style well adapted to the subject, in language dignified and sonorous, with not a little of the rhythmic cadence of Paradise Lost. It was real poetry; suggestive, and at times deeply impressive—the poetry of thought and culture, not of mere figure and fancy, and it was well calculated to do honour to its author, and to the National Eisteddfod of Wales. 'David' was among his fellow-competitors as Saul was amongst his brethren, higher than any of them from his shoulders upwards, and to him he awarded the prize which his poem well deserved."

HISTORICAL NOTE.

The design followed out in the succeeding poem has been to touch upon the leading historical incidents of Saul's career that lead up to and explain his tragic death on Mount Gilboa. With him, nearly 3,000 years ago, commenced the Monarchical government of the Israelites, who had previously been governed by a Theocracy. The Prophet Samuel, who anointed Saul, was the last of the High Priests or Judges under this Theocracy, which existed for 800 years, and died out with the acceptance of Saul, by the Israelites, as "King of all the tribes of Israel." The incidents touched upon range from the proclamation of Saul as King, by Samuel (1095 B.C.), to the fall of the hapless Monarch at the battle of Gilboa, 40 years afterwards.

Death of Saul

As through the waves the freighted argosy Securely plunges, when the lode star's light Her path makes clear, and as, when angry clouds Obscure the guide that leads her on her way, She strikes the hidden rock and all is lost, So he of whom I sing—favoured of God, By disobedience dimmed the light divine That shone with bright effulgence like the sun, And sank in sorrow, where he might have soared Up to the loftiest peak of earthly joy In sweet foretaste of heavenly joys to come. Called from his flocks and herds in humble strait And made to rule a nation; high in Heaven The great Jehovah lighting up the way; On earth an upright Judge and Prophet wise Sent by the Lord to bend his steps aright; Sons dutiful and true; no speck to mar The noble grandeur of a proud career; Yet, from the rays that flickered o'er his path, Sent for his good, he wove the lightning shaft That seared his heart, e'en as the stalwart oak, Soaring in pride of pow'r, falls 'neath the flash, And lies a prostrate wreck. Like one of old, Who, wrestling with the orb whose far-off light

Gave beauty to his waxen wings, upsoared Where angels dared not go, came to his doom, And fell a molten mass; so, tempting Heaven, Saul died the death of disobedient Pride And self-willed Folly—curses of mankind! Sins against God which wrought the Fall, and sent, As tempests moan along the listening night, A wail of mournful sadness drifting down The annals of the world: unearthly strains! Cries of eternal souls that know no rest.

Episode the First.

THE ISRAELITES DEMAND A KING, AND SAUL IS GIVEN TO RULE OVER THEM.

"God save the King!" the Israelites exclaimed, (a) When, by the aged Prophet summoned forth To Mizpeh, all the tribes by lot declared That Saul should be their ruler. Since they left The land of Egypt and its galling stripes, Till then, the only living God had been Their King and Governor; and Samuel old, The last of Israel's Judges, when he brought The man they chose to be their future King, And said: "Behold the ruler of your choice!" Told them of loving mercies they for years Had from the great Jehovah's hand received, And mourned in sorrowing tones that God their Judge Should be by them rejected: and they cried "A King! give us a King—for thou art old (b) "And in those ways thou all thy life hast walked "Walk not thy sons: lucre their idol is— "And Judgment is perverted by the bribes "They take to stifle justice: give us, then, "A King to judge us. Other nations boast "Of such a chief—a King, give us a King!" So Saul became the crowned of Israel— The first great King of their united tribes.

Episode the Second.

SAUL DISAPPOINTS THE EXPECTATIONS OF JEHOVAH, AND IS VISITED WITH THE ALMIGHTY'S DISPLEASURE.

Brave is the heart that beats with yearning throb Tow'rds highest hopes, when, wandering in the vale, Some snowy Alp gleams forth with flashing crown Of golden glory in the morning light. Brave is the heart that lovingly expands And longs the far-off splendour to embrace. Thus yearned the heart of Saul, when from his flocks The Prophet led him forth, and, pointing up Tow'rds Israel's crown, exclaimed: "See what the Lord Hath done for thee!" But Saul upon the throne Grew sorely dazed. Though brave the heart, the brain Swam in an ecstasy of wildering light— A helmless boat upon a troubled sea. Men nursed in gloom can rarely brook the sun; And many a life to sombre paths inured The sunshine of Prosperity hath quenched, As dewdrops glistening on the lowly sward Like priceless jewels ere the morning breaks, Melt into space when light and heat abound, As though they ne'er had been. Relentless fate! This ruthless law the world's wide ways hath fringed With wreckage of a host of peerless lives; And Saul is numbered 'mongst the broken drift. Saul, though the Lord's anointed, saw not God:

But—curse of life! ingratitude prevailed. His faith waxed weak as days of trial came: And when, deserted by his teeming hosts At Gilgal, he the Prophet's priestly right In faithless haste assumed, the Prophet cried "The Lord hath said no son of thine shall reign O'er Israel!" (c) Yet, heedless of the voice Of warning which a patient God vouchsafed, With disobedience lurking in his heart, He strove to shield the King of Amalek— He whom the Lord commanded him to kill— Seizing his flocks and herds for selfish gain Beneath the garb of sacrificial faith— Sin so distasteful to the Lord that Saul Sat in the dark displeasure of his God. (d) And out from this displeasure, like the dawn From dusky night, the youthful David sprang— The Lord's anointed, yea, the Lord's beloved: Sweet Bard of Bethlehem! whose harp divine, Tuned to the throbbings of a guileless heart, Soothed the dark spirit of the sinful King, And woke his life to light and hope again, (e) But ah! the sling and stone his envy roused, And envy hate begat. 'Tis ever so: The honest fealty of a noble soul

To all that's brave, and true, and good in life, Will meet malicious hindrance. So the King This brave young bard and warrior of the Lord In ruthless persecution sought to kill. Twice, with a true nobility of heart Which to the noble heart alone belongs, The slayer of Goliath stayed his hand When Saul lay at his mercy. "Take thy life; "Thou art the Lord's anointed, sinful, though, "And faithless to the truth as shifting sand!" Thus David spake, and went his weary way, An exile from the land he loved so well. So Saul had steeled his heart and set his face Against the living God, and thus he lay Beneath the great Jehovah's awful ban.

Episode the Third

SAUL, DESERTED BY THE ALMIGHTY, CONSULTS THE WITCH OF ENDOR, AND HIS FALL IS FORETOLD BY THE SPIRIT OF THE DEAD PROPHET.

As o'er the earth a darkling cloud appears, And grows in blackness till the scathing shaft Comes forth with swelling thunder, so the cloud, Black unto bursting with the wrath divine, Hung o'er the head of Israel's erring King. The light of heavenly faith from him was gone, And life was full of dreary, dark despair. Outstretched along the plains of Shunem lay The army of the heathen Philistines—(f) A countless horde, at whose relentless head Achish, the King of Gath, with stern acclaim Breathed war against the Israelitish host. Heedless of help from God, the wretched Saul Had called his tribes together, and they swarmed Along the plains of Gilboa, whence they saw The mighty army of their heathen foe Lie like a drowsy panther in its lair With limbs all wakeful for the hungry leap. "Enquire me of the Lord!" the King had said, Communing with the doubtings of his heart. But answer came not. Dreams were dumb and dark— Unfathomed mysteries. No Urim spake; And Prophets wore the silence of the grave. So Saul, the King, disheartened and disguised,

Went forth at night.(g) The rival armies lay Sleeping beneath the darksome dome of Heaven, And all was still, save when the ghostly wind Swept o'er the plains with melancholy moan. That night the shadowy shape of one long dead Stood face-to-face with Saul, in lonely cave, The Witch of Endor's haunt. Ah, me—the fall! To degradation deep that man hath slid Who 'gainst the Lord in stiff-necked folly strives Choosing the path of cabalistic wiles— The dark and turbid garniture of toads, And philters rank of necromantic knaves— Who spurns the hand which, by the light of Heaven, Points clear and straight along the spacious road Which angel feet have trod. Ah, me—the fall! And sad the fate of him who shuns the truth: Who, like the lonely Saul, eschews the light, And leagues with darkness—listening for the voice Of angels in abodes where devils dwell. So the dead Prophet and the erring King, By Heaven's own will, not by the witch's craft, Confront each other in the dark retreat. The dreamy shadow speaks: "Wherefore," it saith, "Dost thou disquiet me!" (h) And from the earth

Came the sepulchral tones, which, floating up, Joined the weird meanings of the hollow wind, And swept in ghostly cadences away Like exiled souls in pain. And Saul replied; "I'm sore distressed: Alas! the living God "Averts His face and answers me no more; "What"—and the pleading voice, in trembling tones That might have won a stony heart to tears, Asks of the shadowy shape—"What shall I do!" And hollow voices seem to echo back The anguish-freighted words—"What shall I do!" 'Twas hell's own mockery! The blistering heat— Like burning blast, hot and invisible— That scorched the heart of Saul, was but the breath Of Satan, gloating o'er the moral death Of him who, chosen of Jehovah, lay A victim to those foul Satanic wiles Which the sworn enemy of God had planned In inmost hate. "I cannot scale the height "Of Him 'gainst whom eternal enmity "I've sworn," it seemed to say: "but—soothing thought! "Deep in the hearts of mortals He hath named "To do His bidding, will I thrust my darts, "And through their wounds, as His ambassadors, "The spirit bruise of Him who sent them—thus!"

And then again, as though his breaking heart Were cleft with red-hot blade, the voice of Saul Is heard in mortal anguish breathing out The soul-subduing tones—"What shall I do?" Dead silence intervenes; and then again The spirit of the Prophet slowly speaks: "To-morrow thou and thine," it faintly said, "Shalt be with me; and Israel's mighty host "Shall be the captives of the heathen foe!" The fateful answer smites the listener low, And utter darkness falls upon his life.

Episode the Fourth.

BATTLE OF GILBOA AND THE DEATH OF SAUL.