And my brother Jonathan!
If I believe it will not miracle
Alone bring joy again unto my pain?
[The wailing again without, and deeper groans.]
O Israel, the Infinite has touched
Thy glory and it changes to a shroud!
Thy splendor is as vintage overspilt.
For Saul upon the mountains low is lying,
And Jonathan beside him, beautiful
Beyond the mar of battle, and of death.