It was the last, deep struggle. Abraham held
His loved, his beautiful, his only son,
And lifted up his arm, and called on God—
And lo! God’s Angel stayed him; and he fell
Upon his face and wept.
ABSALOM.
The waters slept. Night’s silvery veil hung low
On Jordan’s bosom, and the eddies curled
Their glassy rings beneath it, like the still
Unbroken beating of the sleeper’s pulse.